I took out my phone and quickly checked the time—it was past 12 a.m. He probably sneaked out when Elena was deep in her sleep. What a jerk, I muttered, my fingers brushing softly against my wet pussy, the heat of it making my skin tingle even in the cool night air. I could still feel his scent clinging to me—dark, expensive, intoxicating—and a little guilty smile crossed my cheek. I had done it. I had resisted him. My body had been bare, touching his, and yet I had pulled back.
I felt… powerful. But then—did I really?
What if he hadn't stepped back when I asked him to stop? Would I have been able to hold myself?
Brrrr,
I shook my head, shivering at the thought. "You all should leave me alone," I screamed at my twisted thoughts.
Then, for some reason, my mind jumped to Aaron. He was probably asleep by now,
The thought of Elena offering me work at the office flashed behind my eyes, a brief distraction, a reminder that life outside this room still existed. Maybe it's time I started confronting things instead of running, I thought, though the idea felt both terrifying and liberating.
I picked up my phone regardless, fingers trembling slightly as I typed:
"What do you think of someone confronting their fears instead of avoiding them?"
It ticked once. No response.
Last seen 11:13 p.m.
I sighed, letting my shoulders slump. I must be stupid trying to message my therapist at this hour.
Unprofessional. Completely
unprofessional.
My fingers traced the edge of the phone, the cool metal grounding me just a little.
What was I doing with my life? How can anyone be young, jobless, and sick in the head? I asked myself, the question echoed in the silent room.
My pulse thrummed like a warning drum, my nipples still sensitive from Victor's touch, the memory of his fingers and lips igniting a warmth I didn't want to feel but couldn't stop.
Sleep began to pull at me, slowly and inevitable. My eyelids drooped. The ache in my body remained, simmering beneath my skin.
I was awakened in the morning by someone rushing into my room like she owned it, shrugging my shoulders to shake me awake. "What—what?" I shouted, scrubbing my face half-asleep. "Can't I get a good nap for once?" I buried my face lazily in the sheets.
"You didn't even knock," I mumbled.
"Like you ever lock your door,"
she said, pacing the room with her hands on her hips.
My eyes snapped open fully, realizing it was Elena. "E-Elena?" I asked, confused, still half-lost in sleep.
"What are you doing here?" I asked again, checking the clock. Past eight. How long did my lazy ass sleep for? I wondered.
"Sorry, I didn't realize it was you," I finally said.
"Of course you didn't," she muttered, pacing again, worry pulling at her shoulders.
Did something happen? I asked, guilt tightening in my chest. Her husband had been here last night… but the look she had—fear—told me it had nothing to do with the house.
I quickly stood, arranging my lingerie, and ran cold water over my face, trying to wake fully.
"Elena, what happened? Why are you so stressed?" I asked this time extremely curious
"The news, Alyssa." She whispered biting her fingers
She dragged me out of the room and down to the parlor. Her hands fumbled with the remote on the table, and she hit start.
The television flickered to life.
The headline burned bright: The Downfall of the Ravenscrofts.
My pulse jumped. What could be wrong? Elena was clearly shaken.
She bit her lip and paced as the news anchor continued.
"Victor Ravenscroft is losing control," another headline added, followed by footage I didn't recognize—a video of Victor punching Aaron on the face.
I washed over with shock.
These fools… the press weren't even allowed at the party. Someone must have sold the video for a quick payout. I hissed at the thought,
The next segment cut to a news reporter outside the Ravenscroft estate, microphone in hand. "Sources tell us that security at the party was tight, but unauthorized video footage has surfaced, raising questions about the internal conflicts plaguing one of the city's most influential families. The feud, first rumored in whispers at high society gatherings, now plays out in living color for all to see. Social media is ablaze with speculation."
The screen shifted to a collage of tweets and posts, scrolling quickly:
#RavenscroftDrama—Victor and Aaron caught on video! WTF happened at the party?!
The empire is crumbling… Can Victor even handle this?
clenching the edge of the table. My stomach churned at the thought of how much could be revealed, how fast chaos was spreading.
Elena's pacing was frantic now. Her eyes darted to me as if seeking reassurance, but I had none to give. The room smelled faintly of coffee and last night's perfume, but neither comforted me. Everything felt wrong, like the world had tilted on its axis and I was left to scramble for balance.
I sank onto the couch, pressing my palms into my face. My head was spinning—not just from Victor, but from the news, the betrayal, the looming consequences.
Elena's pacing slowed, but her breathing didn't. She pressed her fingers to her lips, biting down hard enough to leave a faint mark. Her eyes weren't on the television anymore. They were somewhere far away — spiraling.
"This is all my fault."
Her voice was small. Fragile in a way I had never heard before.
I turned to her quickly. "What?"
"If only I didn't drink too much." She bit her lips again, harder this time, like she was punishing herself. "I am so stupid, Lys. So stupid." Her eyes finally met mine, teary with panic. "How will the world see me now? What will people say?"
There it was.
Not fear of Victor.
Not fear of the business.
Fear of perception.
I stood up slowly, walking toward her. "Who cares what people say?" I said, trying to keep my tone light. "It's not that deep, Elena. People talk today, they forget tomorrow."
But my words fell flat.
They didn't reach her.
Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders stiffened like armor snapping back into place.
"You don't understand," she whispered. "This isn't just gossip. This is our reputation.
"It's okay to break every once in a while," I said softly. And I meant it. Maybe I was saying it for both of us.
She shook her head immediately.
"No. No." Her voice hardened. "Not me." She swallowed, blinking fast. "I don't break."
She bit her fingers, tilting her head.— not out of panic this time, but restraint — then turned sharply and walked toward the stairs.
Her back was straight again. Composed. Controlled.
As if the crack I just witnessed had never existed.
I watched her disappear down the hallway, the sound of her heels faint against the marble floor until her bedroom door clicked shut.
Silence settled over the house.
The television was still running — analysts dissecting Victor's expression frame by frame, debating body language like it was stock market movement.
I picked up the remote and turned it off.
The room felt too big. Too expensive. Too dramatic.
I exhaled and sank into the couch.
"Oh, big family," I muttered under my breath, leaning my head back against the cushions. "Big drama."
A humorless laugh escaped me.
"I mean… who cares?"
But even as I said it, I knew we all did.
And that was the problem.
I dragged my lazy ass up to my room, the noise from downstairs fading with every step. My head felt heavy, like I hadn't really slept at all. I brushed my teeth slowly, staring at nothing in particular, foam gathering at the corners of my mouth while my thoughts wandered where they shouldn't.
I stepped into the shower and let the water run over me before adjusting the temperature. It was warm—almost too warm—but I didn't move. I just stood there and let it pour over my head, down my shoulders, across my chest, sliding in thin streams along my stomach and thighs.
A fuzzy thought crossed my mind.
Has Victor seen the news yet?
I froze for a second.
Hope this doesn't affect him.
The water kept running, steady and patient, but my chest tightened. I sighed, tilting my face up toward the showerhead.
"What do you even care, Alyssa?" I whispered to myself.
After he practically called you desperate two nights ago… this is the last thing you should be thinking about. His feelings.
I pressed my palm against the cold tile wall and shut my eyes.
You should hate him.
That man only sees you as a sex toy, Alyssa.
The words sounded harsh in my head, but I forced myself to think them anyway. Maybe if I repeated them enough, they would become true. Maybe if I told myself he didn't matter, my heart would finally listen.
The water traced over my breasts, down my waist, over my hips. My skin still felt sensitive, like it remembered him even when I was trying not to. That annoyed me the most. My body betrayed me too easily.
I turned the shower off abruptly.
The silence that followed felt loud.
I reached for my towel and dried myself slowly, pressing the fabric against my skin, squeezing out the warmth the water had left behind. I stepped out, leaving damp footprints on the tiles, and walked toward the mirror.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Naked.
Still.
My hair slightly wet, clinging to my neck. Droplets of water resting on my collarbone. My chest rising and falling.
I looked at myself properly this time. Not as a guilty woman. Not as someone's mistake. Just… me.
I traced my eyes over my reflection. My shoulders. My curves. The softness of my stomach. The fullness of my hips. The way my body held both strength and vulnerability at the same time.
"You're too much of a woman to be just the other woman," I whispered to my reflection.
The words sounded brave.
Strong.
But they also felt fragile.
I lifted my chin slightly, trying to believe what I had just said. Trying to see myself the way I wanted to be seen. Not hidden. Not secret. Not something that only existed behind closed doors.
You deserve more.
I swallowed.
Trying to convince myself.
But oh well… that's a lie.
Even i didn't believe the words that just escaped my mouth.