The cursed billionnaire slave

The air in the Obsidian Palace felt thick, like it was alive with some old, heavy magic that weighed on Celestine's shoulders. She'd heard her name whispered in half-remembered stories-Celestine, a shadow of something grander-yet here she was, stuck in a life that didn't belong to her, held tight by chains that weren't just metal but something deeper, crueler. She woke that morning, same as always, in a room draped in dark silk, the only light coming from strange glowing orbs that floated like they had a mind of their own.

Even trapped like this, she carried herself with a quiet dignity, a grace that didn't bend under the pain she lived with. Her eyes used to shine with life, bright with hope and possibility. Now they flickered with something softer, fainter-memories of a time she could almost touch but never quite hold. Every day, those memories grew louder, pushing at her like they wouldn't let her rest. They were scraps of a past where she wasn't just a slave, where her spirit roamed free under a sky full of magic. Her body might be caught in this curse-tied to seduction, to serving-but her soul kept clawing for what it once had. In the quiet, when she was alone, her mind wandered to the man who ran this sprawling, cursed place. Lucien, they called him, a billionaire whose name people spoke with a mix of awe and fear. He was tall, dark, wrapped in a kind of mystery that pulled you in and pushed you away all at once. He had his own ghosts-old curses and secrets that tangled up with hers somehow. He filled a room just by stepping into it, like the magic humming through the palace walls came from him. But every now and then, she'd catch a quick, soft smile on his face, a hint of someone he could've been if life had gone another way. Celestine stood up from the silky bed, the chains on her wrists catching the light-thin, golden, glowing like they were alive. They weren't just there to hold her; they were a mark of something older, something she couldn't shake. Whatever curse had her in its grip was tied to time itself, promising a chance to start over, to be reborn, maybe even to fix what went wrong. Dawn slipped through the tall windows, spilling faint light across the cold marble floor. Shadows stretched and twisted like they were reaching for something. Her bare feet tapped out a rhythm with each step-grief, yearning, and a stubborn flicker of hope all mixed together. Today would test her, same as every day. But today felt different. Something in the air shifted, like the magic around her was waking up, hinting at a change she'd been waiting for without even knowing it. Beyond her room, the palace buzzed with its own quiet life. Servants shuffled through the halls, their faces blank, their steps hushed, bound by spells of their own. Whispers floated around-talk of Lucien's latest orders, strange visitors from far-off places. No one knew what went on behind the locked doors of his private rooms, but everyone could feel it: something big was coming, something that could tip the whole place into chaos. Down in the grand hall, a banquet was in full swing-fancy and rotting all at once. Chandeliers made of shimmering crystal lit up tables piled with food that seemed too rich for a place this broken. Celestine moved through it all like a shadow, surrounded by glittering nobles and masked strangers. She was beautiful, regal even, but she was still a prisoner here, watched by eyes she couldn't see. As night crept in, Lucien stepped out of the dark. His eyes-deep, almost black-locked onto hers from across the room. For a second, everything else fell away. That look said more than words ever could: they both knew pain, both carried fates they didn't choose. The noise of the party faded, and it was just them, tied together by something bigger than either of them could name. But even in that moment, trouble was brewing. Whatever connected them wasn't going to come easy-it never did in a place like this. Over by the wall, another woman watched them. Marielle-sharp-edged and dangerous, with a beauty that could cut you if you got too close. She was part of this mess too, pulled in by her own scars and secrets. She stood there, powerful but fragile underneath it all, chasing something she wouldn't admit out loud. Redemption, maybe, or just a way out. Right then, Celestine felt it all crash together-every life she'd lived, every one she might still have. The magic, the spells, her own heartbeat-they all pointed to one thing: this curse wasn't forever. Deep down, something in her was ready to break free, to take back what was stolen. Later that night, as the party hit its peak and the palace seemed to hum with secrets, Celestine slipped away to a quiet corner of the hall. Behind a tapestry stitched with old protective symbols, she found a battered leather book. Its pages were rough, covered in faded writing and symbols she didn't fully understand. But when she touched it, it felt alive, buzzing with something she knew. Memories hit her hard-flashes of another life, full of victory and heartbreak. This book, whatever it was, held pieces of who she'd been. It could break her chains. Hope flared up, but it came with a weight. The road ahead wouldn't be easy-danger, betrayal, choices she didn't want to make. And there was Lucien, right in the middle of it, his own story knotted up with the magic that ruled this place. His eyes met hers again, sharp with purpose and heavy with regret. That look promised they were in this together, for better or worse. As the night wound down, Celestine gripped the book tight, Lucien's gaze still burning in her chest. She stepped out into the dark, ready to face whatever came next. The chains didn't own her anymore-not really. Something ancient was waking up inside her, whispering that every ending was just the start of something new. With the book in her hands and a fire in her gut, she was done waiting. Whatever it took, she'd fight for her fate-and maybe the whole damn world's too.