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My Bestowed

If only I was born with a golden spoon,my life would have been so much better,I won't be looked down on and no one would ever dare throw me scorns.Just a month ago,I was brought to the hospital.The hospital was my beginning.... "Question three” He leaned in as if this one mattered most. “What’s the real identity of the new cook at the house?” The room tightened.The men straightened imperceptibly.The seconds on his watch tracked off like a slowly cutting rope.I felt Sua’s face flash behind my eyes,the way she’d looked on the floor and i felt my father’s approval like a tongue along a wound. I knew what he wanted.The truth I’d kept at the back of my head and tried not to name. I swallowed. “You lie for her” Somewhere in the room,the sound of metal being cocked snapped like a verdict.I saw one of the men lift the gun.It was a small and discreet.I lunged forward uselessly, but hands pinned my arms to my sides again.My shout was swallowed by the room. The shot cut the air.I heard Sua’s scream which tore across the corridor and then she hit with a sound that made something inside me hollow out.Her body folded and slumped in a way that seemed to slow down,each motion was like a betrayal of hope. I dropped to my knees beside her,my hands fumbled at her collar,at the blood and the fabric,at any sign of life.There was none to find.Her face which was the face I loved,was still,featured slack in a way that made my stomach fold in on itself.I cupped her cheek and it was colder than it should have been.The breath I wanted to give her came out as a soundless,broken thing. Behind me,the men moved away.Dad's voice reached me. “Remember the game,son” He said.But his words were meant for a different future.I pressed my forehead to hers until my tears mixed with the dust and the awful, permanent stillness and the only thing I could think to ask the air was why. . . . READ FOR FULL DETAILS!!!
Treasure_Ojerinde · 40.1k Views

IN A TIGHT SPOT | Arlecchino x La Signora x Kafka x Fem Reader

Working as a maid for three of the most terrifying, gorgeous, high-powered women alive was never on my bingo card. Yet here I am, cleaning furniture that costs more than my entire bloodline while trying not to cry in the walk-in pantry. Every day I get judged by women who could step on me, ruin me financially, emotionally, spiritually, sexually, or all of the above. At once. With heels. Arlecchino is basically a human lie detector with murder-mystery detective energy and eyes that probably know my search history. Signora looks like she files taxes (or not, I dunno) in couture and eats diamonds for breakfast. Kafka is the therapist-slash-author who could destroy my mental health using only a paragraph, then gently pat my head about it. My daily routine goes something like this: cook, clean, garden, get stabbed a little, get kidnapped occasionally, recover, and then immediately get pulled into more nonsense that absolutely was not included in any job description I signed. It's like the universe said, "What if we threw one overstimulated disaster maid into a murder mansion and filmed it for fun?" They keep calling me the head maid, which is hilarious considering I am literally the only maid here. Somehow I'm still hanging on. Through the flirting, the near-death experiences, the emotional whiplash and the slow realization that I might be developing Stockholm Syndrome but make it cute. Also, surprise, the story is a romantic comedy fused with a psychological thriller and sprinkles of emotional devastation. You know, for flavor. And maybe... maybe I'm not just barely surviving anymore. Maybe this mansion is starting to feel like home. Haha. No. Absolutely not. Probably.
Jeggsve · 18.3k Views