In The Devil's keeping

In The Devil's keeping

shadow.writes1

5.0
Comment(s)
2
View
19
Chapters

At eighteen years old, Estelle is kicked out of the only place she knew as home. With nowhere left to go, she goes toward Club Paradise, a place that offers the basic amenities she lacks: food, clothes, shelter, and a well-paying job. *** The room was thick with smoke and muted chatter, but the moment Antonio D'Amico's eyes landed on her, the world narrowed to just her. Estelle froze, heart hammering, as if some unseen force had pulled her into his gaze. He didn't move at first, simply studied her with a cold, calculating intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine. One night with him shifts the course of her life forever. Something in him fractures; obsession blooms, dangerous, consuming and he decides to take her away, forever. *** What will happen to Estelle? Will her fortune finally turn around, or is she about to experience hell... and an unexpected, forbidden bond growing inside the darkness?

In The Devil's keeping Chapter 1 First Night

"ESTELLE!" The voice cuts through the hallway like a blade, shrill and unforgiving.

I wince as it echoes in my ears. Miss Russell storms toward me, her face twisted with a sneer. "You're eighteen today. That means I can finally get your freeloading ass out of this orphanage."

She looks at me like I'm something she's scraped off her shoe. And maybe, to her, I am.

I straighten up but say nothing. What's the point?

She thrusts a laminated paper into my hand. "Here's your notary certificate. Good luck out there - or don't. I don't care. Just get out."

She spins on her heel and walks away like she hadn't just booted me into the street with the weight of the world on my back.

I stand there frozen. My fingers close around the certificate. This is it. No more foster homes. No more pretending anyone's coming back for me. No more safety net. I'm officially a legal adult - and officially homeless.

I blink fast, fighting tears. Not here. Not now. I won't give her the satisfaction.

Back in the small room they used to call mine, I shove everything I own into a secondhand backpack: two shirts, a pair of jeans, deodorant, and a toothbrush. That's the sum total of my life. No goodbye, no well-wishes. Just me and the street.

The city is louder than I remember. Maybe it's always been this loud. Maybe I was just too numb to hear it before.

I drift without purpose, one foot in front of the other until I realize I'm in a park. Children laugh somewhere behind me. The sound makes something ache deep inside my ribs.

I collapse onto a bench. I haven't eaten since yesterday. I haven't had a plan since I woke up. I stare down at my sneakers. One's coming apart at the toe. I whisper to myself, What now, Estelle?

"Hey, beautiful."

I look up, startled. A girl, around my age, stands in front of me. She's striking - tall, glowing brown skin, emerald green eyes, and a crooked smile that says she's seen more than she lets on.

"You look like you need to make some money."

There it is. The hook.

She sits beside me like we're old friends. No name. No intro. Just straight to business. I should be suspicious. I should walk away. But I'm desperate. And desperation doesn't leave much room for dignity.

"I do," I admit quietly.

She leans in, handing me a glossy flier. Paradise.

"A club?" I ask.

Her smile sharpens. "It's the best brothel in the NYC red light district. Clients pay well. But they don't come gentle."

I stare at the flier. My hands tremble, but I don't drop it.

"You don't have to say yes," she says as she stands. "But if you show up, ask for Andrea."

Time slips by.

A kid's ball hits my leg. I hand it back with a small smile.

Then I feel it - a bulge in my back pocket. I pull it out. A note. $250 cash.

> "In case you decide to come (and I know you will). You'll need new clothes. Make yourself unforgettable."

Andrea.

I walk to the nearest thrift store and change in the dressing room. The girl in the mirror is cleaner now - tighter black romper, wiped-down shoes - but the same haunted eyes.

I throw my old clothes in the trash.

It's getting dark.

The building is unmissable. PARADISE glows in violent pink neon. The longer I look, the more it feels like it's mocking me.

I freeze.

My hand trembles as I reach for the door.

"Lost, kid?" a deep voice asks.

The bouncer's huge. Arms crossed, deadpan stare.

"I'm not a kid. I'm here to work."

He scoffs. "This place ain't for girls like you."

"I'm eighteen." I force my voice not to shake. "Let me speak to the manager."

He starts to protest, but a sleek black car rolls up. A tall man steps out. Mid-30s, olive skin, sharp features, a neatly trimmed beard - the kind of man who doesn't wait in line for anything.

"Boss," the bouncer nods. "I was just handling this one-"

Dante's eyes land on me.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Estelle."

"And what do you want, Estelle?"

"I want to work here."

His brow lifts. "You know what kind of place this is?"

I nod. "It's a brothel."

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "And you still want in?"

"Yes."

He studies me like a butcher eyeing livestock. "Fine. Come inside."

The club hits like a punch. Flashing lights. Bass vibrating through my spine. Perfume, sweat, and something darker in the air.

"Estelle!"

Andrea pulls me into a hug before I can react. "I was half sure you'd chicken out," she yells over the music.

I don't respond. My eyes are locked on Dante as he disappears into the VIP section.

"Come on," Andrea says, dragging me by the wrist.

We end up in a sleek office. Black leather, tinted windows, the faint smell of whiskey and smoke.

"Alright," Dante says as he settles behind a desk. "We do paperwork before we play dress-up. Age of consent?"

"Eighteen," I reply.

He slides a contract toward me. "Read everything."

My eyes skim through:

Working hours: 8PM to 4AM

Mandatory testing

Weekly cuts

Zero liability clause

I stop at one line.

> "Management is not liable for emotional or physical harm inflicted during work hours."

"You can't be held accountable for what happens to me?" I ask.

Dante meets my gaze, dead serious. "I provide the space. I provide the clients. I keep the law off your back. But what happens between you and them? That's your fight."

Silence.

"You can still walk," he adds. "Last chance."

My fingers curl around the pen.

You've already walked through fire, Estelle. What's a little more heat?

I sign.

"Now," Dante says, his tone shifting. "Let's talk name, look, and costume. You're not Estelle in there. You're whatever fantasy they pay for."

He leans back in his chair and eyes me like I'm clay waiting to be molded.

My throat tightens.

This is it. No going back.

I straighten my shoulders.

"Make me unforgettable."

Continue Reading

You'll also like

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her

Katie Oettgen

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Roderic Penn

I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

The Mafia's Forgotten Obsession

The Mafia's Forgotten Obsession

Sophie Abou

"Don't die on me, Tom, I can't lose you for the second time. It will ruin me." Vivienne said desperately, holding his sweaty face in her hands. Tom hid his pain and smiled up at her. "There are too many filthy fantasies of you and I in my head that I'm yet to carry out. I won't forgive myself if I die, Vee." She couldn't look away... ~ For Eight years, Vivienne lost her light after the death of her teenage lover, Tristan Bennett. Forced to engage his cruel stepbrother based on based on family's agreement, she made the decision to flee on their wedding day. Now, hidden in a city where no one knows her name, she sort for a new job only for her to discover that her new billionaire boss was her lover who died eight years ago. He doesn't remember her. He bears another name. And he has another woman now? Not any ordinary woman-A dangerous mafia lord's daughter who happens to be obsessed with him. But Tristan, now known as Tom in his new mafia world wants to bail out, and he needs a contract marriage with a new woman to leave his obsessive girlfriend. Vivienne agreed to the marriage contract with every intention to help him get back his past memories. But what happens when all circumstances surrounding them threatens to sabotage her efforts? Tom's cruel stepbrother who wanted Vivienne than breath itself-His Mafia boss, and his obsessive girlfriend. Vivienne must risk danger and death to be with her lover again. But some problems are far too complicated with many secrets to solve, and Vivienne is about to find out.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
In The Devil's keeping In The Devil's keeping shadow.writes1 Mafia
“At eighteen years old, Estelle is kicked out of the only place she knew as home. With nowhere left to go, she goes toward Club Paradise, a place that offers the basic amenities she lacks: food, clothes, shelter, and a well-paying job. *** The room was thick with smoke and muted chatter, but the moment Antonio D'Amico's eyes landed on her, the world narrowed to just her. Estelle froze, heart hammering, as if some unseen force had pulled her into his gaze. He didn't move at first, simply studied her with a cold, calculating intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine. One night with him shifts the course of her life forever. Something in him fractures; obsession blooms, dangerous, consuming and he decides to take her away, forever. *** What will happen to Estelle? Will her fortune finally turn around, or is she about to experience hell... and an unexpected, forbidden bond growing inside the darkness?”
1

Chapter 1 First Night

29/12/2025

2

Chapter 2 Rules Of The Game

29/12/2025

3

Chapter 3 First Time

29/12/2025

4

Chapter 4 Luana's Entrance

29/12/2025

5

Chapter 5 Luana's Rise

29/12/2025

6

Chapter 6 Sold

29/12/2025

7

Chapter 7 Golden Cage

29/12/2025

8

Chapter 8 Broken Silence

29/12/2025

9

Chapter 9 The Devil's Own

29/12/2025

10

Chapter 10 The Devil's Control

29/12/2025

11

Chapter 11 The Devil's Claim

29/12/2025

12

Chapter 12 The Devil Bleeds Too

09/01/2026

13

Chapter 13 A Slip Of The Tongue

10/01/2026

14

Chapter 14 The Devil's Touch

17/01/2026

15

Chapter 15 His Fiery Touch

17/01/2026

16

Chapter 16 The Taste of Restraint

20/01/2026

17

Chapter 17 A Debt Paid In Blood

04/02/2026

18

Chapter 18 What Belongs To Me

06/02/2026

19

Chapter 19 Claimed Without Chains

28/02/2026