Lashirah_Hash

She thought she was free.

Until a billionaire and his daughter saw her — and decided she was theirs.

One wanted a wife.
The other wanted a mother.
Neither asked if she agreed.

They watched her for two years. Followed her every move.
Until one day, they flew across the world and bought her future — with smiles, paperwork, and charm that smelled like roses but felt like chains.

Now, she sleeps in silk sheets she didn’t choose.
Wears clothes she didn’t buy.
Answers to a name she didn’t earn.

Every touch is a test.
Every night is a transaction.
And every whispered “I love you” is a warning.

She hides pills beneath her tongue.
She dreams of running.
But there is no escape — only a cage made of wealth, obsession, and unbearable intimacy.

Because he doesn’t just want her body.
He wants her compliance.
Her mind.
Her loyalty.
Her womb.

And when the daughter discovers the truth —
she doesn’t cry.
She accuses.

Now the doors are locked.
The smiles are gone.
And the only thing more terrifying than being watched…
is being needed.

This isn’t love.
This is possession with a wedding ring.
This is family, twisted into obsession.
This is what happens when a girl becomes the answer to someone else's madness.

THE WIFE,THE MOTHER,THE PRISONER

Her nightlight was on. Her music was low. Her silk bunny lay tucked under her arm, and her eyes were shut just enough to fool the maids.

But Lelo Ashborne hadn't slept in days.

The house was silent, but the air buzzed. Like it held its breath. Like the walls knew something wicked was happening behind the white doors.

Lelo slipped from her bed, toes touching the cold marble like a whisper. She didn't make a sound as she padded to the hallway. Not a creak. Not a single echo. Daddy said she moved like a ghost. And ghosts heard everything.

It was shut tight, but light spilled beneath it. Dim. Soft. Flickering.

She crouched down. Pressed one ear flat to the wood. And listened.

Another cry. Not pain. Not quite. But something close. A whisper too soft to be anger. A moan too raw to be comfort.

Just turned away and walked back to her room.

The bunny fell from her hand halfway down the hall, but she didn't notice.

Back in her room, she shut the door with a slow click. Climbed into bed. Pulled the sheets to her chin.

When morning came, she didn't greet Serene with her usual soft hugs or breakfast giggles.

And when Serene turned her back, Lelo whispered into her cereal:

> "You shouldn't have let him touch you."

THE LITTLE MONSTER'S EARS