SARAHI stared at her, confused and taken aback. “What do you mean, replacement for a ghost?” I managed to ask, my voice shaky.She smirked, taking a step closer to me. “Oh, you don’t know, do you?” She relished the moment, enjoying my discomfort. “Noelle was Marco’s… special friend, let’s say. She had everything—beauty, class, and sophistication. Everything you lack.”My heart pounded in my chest. I felt a mix of confusion and anger boiling up inside me. “Noelle? “Special friend?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “What are you talking about?”She chuckled, a cold, mocking sound. “You really are clueless, aren’t you? Noelle was the one who mattered, the one who—”“Isabella!” Marco’s voice cut through the air like a knife, sharp and unyielding.She spun around, her demeanor changing in an instant. She threw herself at Marco, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Marco, darling, I was just having a little chat with your… new addition,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness.Marco bar
The party dragged on, and I did my best to stay out of trouble. I found a quiet corner, keeping my head down and my eyes on the floor, making sure not to look in Daniel’s direction. I had already caused enough problems for myself tonight. The last thing I needed was Marco’s wrath extending to someone else. I stole a glance at Marco, but quickly looked away. His earlier threat of a new punishment played over and over in my head, an annoying thorn looming over my thoughts. What evil ideas does he have waiting for me this time? The very thought made my stomach churn, my mood souring with each passing minute that passed.Marcos people moved around me, mingling and laughing, their voices blending into a distant hum. It felt like I was in a bubble, separate from it all, the noise muffled by the weight of the anxiety I felt. I tried to focus on my tasks, refilling drinks and picking up empty glasses, anything to keep myself busy and out of Marcos sight. My hands worked fast, the routine mot
MARCO I sat in my study, the air thick with the remnants of the party. The soft glow of the desk lamp barely cut through the darkness, casting long shadows on the walls. I fumbled with the lighter, my fingers shaking as I tried to ignite the cigarette. The flame finally caught, and I took a deep drag, the smoke filling my lungs, slowly calming my racing mind. The party was supposed to be a clever ruse, a trap to draw out anyone from the Rossi family. Weeks of planning, careful invitations, and strategic conversations all leading up to tonight. I had hoped to see even a flicker of recognition, a fickle sign sign that one of them had taken the bait. But the night had been a complete disappointment. Not a single Rossi had shown their face. Not a single lead to follow, not a single crack in their facade. I sighed, the frustration boiling inside me. “Che disastro,” I muttered under my breath. This whole charade was starting to feel like a waste of time. As I exhaled a cloud of smoke
SARAH I stepped into the bathroom, the darkness wrapping aroundme as I tried to find the switch. I couldn’t see a thing, and in my rush, I stumbled, nearly losing my footing. “This night could not get any more annoying,” I hissed, catching myself on the sink. I fumbled for the light switch, finally flicking it on. The harsh light made me squint, but at least I could see now. I faced the sink and looked up at the mirror, my heart sinking at the sight before me. The woman staring back looked defeated, her eyes hollow and tired. I barely recognized myself. This wasn’t the life I wanted, and every day felt like a new kind of torture. I turned on the faucet and cupped my hands under the cold water, splashing it on my face. As I worked to remove the makeup, I couldn’t help but think about how much I hated this ritual. Makeup was such a drag. It felt like a mask I had to wear, hiding the real me underneath. And Marco, of course, insisted on it. He loved to control every aspect of my l
SARAH I sat on the desk as Marco instructed, my mind racing. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to find my voice, my words coming out in a shaky whisper. “Marco, I think you’re drunk. You don’t want to do this.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm on my neck. “Oh, I want this, Sarah,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “And you want it too. You know it.” I swallowed hard, trying to push down the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. Marco’s presence was overpowering, his hands gripping the desk on either side of me, trapping me in place. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity in his eyes. “I’m going to teach you a lot Sarah” he growled, his voice filled with possessive anger. “You need to learn who you belong to.” I tried to protest, to reason with him, but the words got stuck in my throat. My fear mixed with a strange, unwanted arousal, creating a confusing cocktail of emotions. I felt a tingle of anticipation and dread, my body betraying my m
SARAHMarco’s eyes bore into mine, a mixture of intensity and something I couldn’t quite place. He moved closer, his touch electric. I felt a shiver run down my spine as his fingers explored my skin. I wanted to resist, to push him away, but my body had other ideas. The wetness between my thighs was undeniable, and I hated myself for it.“This is just a one time thing,” I told myself, trying to maintain some form of control. “Just one time, and then it will never happen again.”Marco’s hand trailed down my side, his touch firm and possessive. He was in control, and he knew it. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continued to edge me closer and closer to the brink.“Do you like this, Sarah?” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell me you like it.”I glared at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me admit it. But my body betrayed me, a soft moan escaping my lips as he increased the pressure.“Stubborn as always,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his li
SARAHIt had been a week since Marco’s cruel stunt, and I did everything in my power to avoid him. Every time I heard his voice, a chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t even bear to look in his direction. Our last encounter was still painfully fresh in my mind, and the humiliation and anger I felt had not subsided.I had become an expert at timing my movements around the house. If I heard his footsteps coming down the hall, I found a reason to be somewhere else. If he entered a room, I made an excuse to leave. It was exhausting, but the alternative—facing him and risking another encounter like the last—was unbearable.“I can’t keep doing this,” I muttered to myself, trying to summon the courage to face him, but my resolve crumbled every time I thought of his mocking laughter. The memory of him edging me, leaving me on the brink, then walking away with that smirk on his face, still haunted me.I sat in the kitchen, pretending to read a magazine, but my mind was elsewhere. The maids bustl
SARAHI spent the next few days studying the guards’ patterns. Every moment was an opportunity to observe, to find the weak spots in their routines. I felt like I was going crazy, but I knew it was the only way out.Every morning, I positioned myself near a window with a clear view of the front gate. I noted the times they manned the gates, their shift changes, and when they seemed less vigilant. I had to be meticulous. I had to know every detail.“Alright, they switch shifts at 8 a.m.,” I muttered to myself, scribbling down notes. “The next shift comes at 4 p.m., and the night shift starts at midnight.” It felt like I was planning a heist, but instead of stealing something, I was trying to steal my freedom.I noticed that around noon., the guards gathered near the gate for a smoke break. They would chat and laugh, momentarily distracted. “This is good,” I thought. “A potential opening.” I couldn’t help but feel a small thrill of excitement.During meal times, the number of guards dec