Title: Crimson Vows

There are men you fear… and then there’s Ezren. The scent of danger had always been my addiction, but tonight, it seemed determined to become my prison. Every look he cast at me burned hotter than any flame, and I knew that falling into his grasp would be both my greatest weakness… and my deadliest pleasure.

I had always known life was cruel, but nothing could have prepared me for this. My mother had died when I was little, leaving me to the care of my stepmother, Kyra—beautiful, charming, and utterly merciless. My father, once a powerful businessman, now clung desperately to the remnants of his failing empire. And in their pursuit of survival, I had become a bargaining chip.

Ethan. The man I was forced to marry. Handsome, influential, and impossibly cold, he accepted the arrangement without hesitation. His mansion was a world apart, opulent and suffocating, filled with shadows that seemed to move on their own. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, their light reflecting off polished marble floors, but no amount of luxury could hide the chill in the air, the tension that made my skin prickle.

The first evening was unbearable. Ethan’s attention was suffocating, yet electric. Every glance was measured, every touch deliberate. I could feel his eyes on me even when he was across the room, and I hated the way it made my heart race. Damien, his only friend, tried to lighten the atmosphere with forced jokes, but even he seemed cautious, as if walking a tightrope in a house full of ghosts and secrets.

Days passed, each one blending into the next, each one a test. And then the strange things started. Anonymous emails arrived late at night, filled with images that made my stomach twist with fear. Small accidents happened around the mansion—a toppled vase here, a faint scent of smoke there—nothing deadly, but enough to make the hairs on my arms stand on end. And always, there was a sense of being watched.

Ethan’s trust began to crack. His once-calm demeanor twisted into suspicion. One evening, after a minor incident I didn’t even notice, he cornered me in the library. “You’re hiding something,” he said, voice low, controlled, dangerous. I opened my mouth, but the words froze on my tongue. I didn’t understand what he thought I had done, and I didn’t know if I wanted to explain.

The next night, I found myself locked in the basement, alone, cold, hungry, thirsty. I pressed my hands against the rough stone walls, the darkness pressing in like a living thing. And yet, even in that terror, a strange thrill ran through me. Part of me was addicted to the danger, addicted to the heat of his gaze and the unpredictability of his moods.

But the fear didn’t stop there. I realized that the danger wasn’t just Ethan, or my father, or even my stepmother. It was something bigger, something unseen, something that moved in the dark and pulled strings we couldn’t even imagine. I could feel it in the hallways, in the way the wind whispered through the windows, in the distant laughter that didn’t belong to anyone living.

I didn’t know who I could trust. Damien was loyal, but even he had secrets. Kyra smiled like an angel but schemed like a serpent. And Ethan… Ethan was a puzzle I couldn’t solve, a storm I couldn’t escape.

Yet, despite it all, I couldn’t stop noticing the way his gaze lingered a moment too long, the subtle brush of his hand against mine in passing, the way he commanded the room—and me—with nothing but presence. Falling for him was a risk I knew I shouldn’t take. But risk had always been my addiction, and danger… well, danger was irresistible.

And so, I stayed. I watched. I waited. Every shadow, every whisper, every secret stretched out before me like a path I had no choice but to follow. In a house full of power, lies, and obsession, the only certainty was that nothing was ever what it seemed—and every vow, every promise, came with a price

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The morning light barely touched the edges of the mansion when I woke, still shivering from the night before. My body ached, and my mind replayed every second I had spent in the basement. The cold stone walls, the silence, the darkness pressing against me—it was as if the house itself was alive, whispering secrets I couldn’t yet understand.

When I finally emerged, Ethan was already in the study, the soft click of his shoes echoing against the marble floors. He didn’t speak, didn’t glance at me, but I felt the weight of his presence like a chain around my chest. I wanted to run, to escape, but the world outside these walls seemed smaller than the one inside the mansion.

Then the first email arrived. My phone buzzed on the side table, and the subject line was blank. My hands trembled as I opened it. Inside were photos of Damien’s children, Anastasia and Alexandre, playing in the garden—but the images had been taken at night. Their smiles were frozen in time, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I looked around. Nobody was there. Ethan didn’t say a word, but I could feel him watching, calculating. My mind screamed, Is he behind this? But the truth was, I had no idea who to trust.

Kyra appeared in the hallway, perfectly composed, every step deliberate. “Good morning, Lyra,” she said, her voice smooth, almost too sweet. “Did you sleep well?”

I wanted to answer, to demand the truth, but her smile alone made my words stick in my throat. There was something in her eyes—something that didn’t belong to anyone who genuinely cared.

The day unfolded like a careful performance. Meals were silent, conversations measured. Damien tried to joke, to ease the tension, but even he looked uneasy, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting the walls themselves to betray a secret.

That night, the emails came again—more images, more questions. And then, a note: “You’re closer than you think.” I couldn’t tell if it was a threat, a warning, or… a test. Ethan didn’t react outwardly, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the tight line of his lips.

And as I lay in the cold, vast bedroom that was supposed to be mine, I realized that the mansion was no longer just a home. It was a labyrinth of secrets, a stage for obsessions, and I was trapped in the middle. Every glance, every gesture, every shadow could hide danger—or desire.

I had to survive. I had to understand. But most of all, I had to find out who was playing this game before it was too late—and whether Ethan was my captor, my protector, or something far more complicated.

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Chapter 2: Shadows in the Mansion

The morning light barely touched the edges of the mansion when I woke, still shivering from the night before. My body ached, and my mind replayed every second I had spent in the basement. The cold stone walls, the silence, the darkness pressing against me—it was as if the house itself was alive, whispering secrets I couldn’t yet understand.

When I finally emerged, Ethan was already in the study, the soft click of his shoes echoing against the marble floors. He didn’t speak, didn’t glance at me, but I felt the weight of his presence like a chain around my chest. I wanted to run, to escape, but the world outside these walls seemed smaller than the one inside the mansion.

Then the first email arrived. My phone buzzed on the side table, and the subject line was blank. My hands trembled as I opened it. Inside were photos of Damien’s children, Anastasia and Alexandre, playing in the garden—but the images had been taken at night. Their smiles were frozen in time, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I looked around. Nobody was there. Ethan didn’t say a word, but I could feel him watching, calculating. My mind screamed, Is he behind this? But the truth was, I had no idea who to trust.

Kyra appeared in the hallway, perfectly composed, every step deliberate. “Good morning, Lyra,” she said, her voice smooth, almost too sweet. “Did you sleep well?”

I wanted to answer, to demand the truth, but her smile alone made my words stick in my throat. There was something in her eyes—something that didn’t belong to anyone who genuinely cared.

The day unfolded like a careful performance. Meals were silent, conversations measured. Damien tried to joke, to ease the tension, but even he looked uneasy, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting the walls themselves to betray a secret.

That night, the emails came again—more images, more questions. And then, a note: “You’re closer than you think.” I couldn’t tell if it was a threat, a warning, or… a test. Ethan didn’t react outwardly, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the tight line of his lips.

And as I lay in the cold, vast bedroom that was supposed to be mine, I realized that the mansion was no longer just a home. It was a labyrinth of secrets, a stage for obsessions, and I was trapped in the middle. Every glance, every gesture, every shadow could hide danger—or desire.

I had to survive. I had to understand. But most of all, I had to find out who was playing this game before it was too late—and whether Ethan was my captor, my protector, or something far more complicated.

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What do you think will happen to Lyra? tell me in the comments.

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THANK YOU ❤️

Thank you for reading my story, I hope you enjoyed it.

Chapter 3: The Puppet Master

The mansion felt colder than ever that evening. Shadows stretched across the marble floors, twisting unnaturally in the flickering candlelight. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching—not just Ethan, not just Kyra, but something darker, unseen.

Then the emails arrived again. This time, the subject line read: “Do you see now?” The attachments were worse than before. Photos of the mansion interiors, Damien’s family, even the garden—but all taken from angles no one could possibly access without permission. And the last image… me, asleep in my own room, the photograph perfectly framed. My blood ran cold.

I didn’t notice Ethan enter at first. He leaned against the doorway, expression unreadable, and I instinctively stiffened.

“You’ve received them again,” he said, his voice low, controlled. “Who sent them?”

“I… I don’t know,” I whispered. My hands shook as I showed him the images.

He didn’t touch me, didn’t even look at me fully. Instead, his eyes narrowed, scanning the files like a predator calculating its next strike. “Someone’s playing a dangerous game. And I intend to find out who.”

Kyra appeared behind him, serene as ever. “Perhaps it’s nothing,” she suggested, her tone sugar-coated. “Just the worries of a new bride adjusting to a new life…” But the gleam in her eyes betrayed amusement. She knew more than she let on.

That night, I stayed awake, heart pounding, thinking about the photos. And then I remembered the name whispered to me in the halls of the mansion, half-heard through the cold air: Mathéo.

He wasn’t just a shadow behind the emails. He was a force, moving pieces, manipulating events. Damien had mentioned him once in passing, calling him a “dangerous player in the wrong circles,” but I had brushed it off. Now, I realized he wasn’t a rumor. He was real—and he was coming closer.

The following morning, a package arrived at the mansion, unmarked and heavy. Inside, a note in bold, precise handwriting: “You can’t hide forever. I see everything.” Alongside it… another photo, this time of Ethan. Standing alone in the study, unaware that someone was watching him.

I felt a chill. Mathéo wasn’t just targeting me. He was testing, threatening, infiltrating every corner of our lives. And the terrifying part? There was no way to know what he would do next, or who he would strike first.

Ethan finally spoke, his voice a mixture of anger and concern. “Lyra… stay close. No one is safe until we find him.”

And I realized then: the game had changed. I wasn’t just trapped in a mansion. I was trapped in Mathéo’s web, and every secret, every betrayal, every desire could be turned against me… or against Ethan.

The lines between predator and prey blurred, and I understood the cruel truth: in this house of power, obsession, and lies, the real enemy was someone no one expected—and everyone feared.

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THANK YOU ❤️