His Sinful Desire

ERICA Time seemed to tick too fast tonight. My eyes remained glued to the wall clock that hung in my cramped living room. It was already close to midnight, and yet my father still wasn’t home. It wasn’t unusual for him to come home late, but not this late. He was usually back by eleven, or ten on good days. Where is that man, for goodness' sake!? Could he still be at the bar drinking? Had he passed out somewhere? Was he safe? Had he gotten himself into another street fight? An annoyed huff left my lips as I sharply got up from the couch, pacing around the living room to clear my thoughts. The approaching footsteps of my younger sister snapped me out of my disturbing thoughts, and I quickly turned to face her. "Erica, are you still awake?" my younger sister, Lilibeth, asked, concern in her eyes as she approached me. I nodded as she embraced me, hugging me tightly. “Yeah, can’t sleep. He’s not back yet.” "Do you think he will come back tonight?" Lilibeth asked as she pull

ERICAThe room was suffocatingly silent, save for the steady thrum of my racing heart in my ears. My breath hitched as the cool metal of the gun pressed firmly against my temple, sending shivers down my spine. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t move.He stood there, the man who held the gun to my head, towering over me. His presence filled the room, sucking out the air like a storm brewing right in front of me. His suit, dark, was tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders.His face was sharp, every angle chiseled to perfection, but it was his eyes that truly paralyzed me—dark, bottomless pools of rage and control, yet disturbingly calm, as if he had done this a thousand times before.Everything about him screamed power, control, violence."Oh, I must say, Thomas. I never knew you had such pretty daughters. First, I meet Lilibeth, and now I’m meeting Erica. Two beautiful girls." His voice was accented, smooth yet menacing.Who is this man? How does he know me

ERICA The train station was louder than I expected. People bustled about, bags slung over shoulders. My heart pounded, and I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. Every stranger with a cold expression made my stomach churn. My palms were slick with sweat, gripping Lilibeth’s hand tighter than I probably should. Lilibeth, beside me, trembled, her small fingers twisting in the hem of her sweater. Her eyes darted around, wide with fear. I knew she was scared—I could feel it radiating off her like heat. “We’ll be okay,” I whispered, pulling her close as we moved through the crowd. My voice was calm, even though every nerve in my body was screaming. “Once we get to Aunt Rosa’s, everything will be fine. We’ll be safe there. We can start over.” Lilibeth looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “But what about Dad? He’s all alone now. What if Raffael—” her voice wavered. I clenched my jaw, forcing down the bitterness. “Dad can take care of himself

ERICA The kitchen was filled with the sizzling aroma of bacon, eggs, and toast. I had only intended to prepare a simple breakfast, but the smell of everything cooking made it feel like much more. Every few moments, I glanced at the digital clock on the wall, racing against time to get breakfast ready as early as possible. Sometimes, it felt surreal—like a bad dream I could not wake up from. This was what my life had come to: a maid and a stripper. And Lilibeth, locked away in some villa, treated like a prisoner. Honestly, it felt like things couldn’t get any worse. Yesterday, Romano gave me a tour of the mansion, and I had to admit—it was even more luxurious than I had ever imagined. In the backyard, a large pool sparkled in the sunlight, surrounded by comfortable lounge chairs and palm trees. The backyard stretched far, with a fountain in the center and a perfectly manicured lawn that seemed to go on forever. Since I had only arrived last evening and had not fully settled in yet

ERICA With each step I took into the dimly lit room, my heart raced like a runaway train. The club was alive with flashing lights, loud music, and the scent of alcohol and sweat. The heavy bass vibrated through my chest, but it couldn’t drown out the anxiety roaring inside me. I felt naked, though I wasn’t fully bare—just barely covered in thin straps of lace that left very little to the imagination. My legs felt like jelly as I made my way to the center of the room, trying to ignore the way the men's eyes followed me, drinking in every inch of my exposed skin. I hated how I felt so vulnerable, so out of place. But I didn’t have a choice. Not when he had my life—and my sister’s—tied up in his hands. Swallowing my nerves, I took my place on the stage, gripping the pole as if it were the only thing keeping me standing. The music shifted into a sultry rhythm, and I forced myself to move. My hips swayed, my hands running over my body. A shiver ran down my spine as I spun around the po