The Billionaire's s*x Slave

Tears streamed down my face as I gripped the sharp knife, its crimson liquid dripping onto the floor. I knelt beside the man I loved, my heart sinking at the sight of him lying motionless. My desire to touch him was overwhelming, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The thought of kissing him filled me with disgust, and I despised him for what he had done to me. But as I loathed him, I loathed myself even more. I reached for the phone that was lying in the drawer and, despite my trembling hands, I managed to dial the number for the ambulance station. The call was answered on the first ring. “911, what is your emergency?” “Go to 2187 NYC Urban Calm, High town C. O Clark.” Without hesitation, I disconnected the call and made my way up to the second floor. Despite the presence of a bloodstain on my hand, I persisted with my packing. Once I was finished, I promptly washed my hands and hurried out of the house. I raced over to the primary gate and hailed a taxi. Before stepping inside, I took several glances at the mansion that had held such a significant place in my heart. It had been a source of inspiration, filling me with hope and a sense of belonging. As I was reading through a paper and browsing some photos, everything suddenly fell apart. It felt like a venomous serpent had coiled around me, and the antidote was unavailable, leaving me to suffer the intentional poisoning. As I sat in the taxi, tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t help but glance back at the house I had left behind, the same house I had once called my home. Despite the flood of emotions overwhelming me, I made the difficult decision to push everything aside and move on. “I’ll begin anew, but this time without you by my side.”