The cursed billionnaire slave

imperceptible hum, as though whispering secrets too old for mortal ears to comprehend. She had no memory of how she had returned to her chambers the night

t of dawn filtering through tall, arched windows. Outside, the palace grounds stretched toward the horizon, where the sky ble

delicate precision of a master artisan, but she knew better. These chains were no mere ornamentation. They were a symbol of her

servitude. Her wide, brown eyes flickered over Celestine's wrists before lowering respectfully."Good morning, my lady," she murmured, keeping her gaze trained on the polished marble fl

ded. "Yes, my lady. I was as

ed pastries, and fragrant tea on the ornate table by the window."What is your name?""Alina, my lady."A simple name.

ruck. The teacup rattled against its saucer as she quickly lowered the teapot, her f

gainst her skin like water as she approached the table. She picked up the teacup, inhaling the floral arom

s.Celestine smiled, setting the teacup down with deliberate care. "But I think you already know that."The girl tensed, and for the first time, Celestine sensed something beyond ord

er sides, her small shoulders rising and falling with rapid breaths."I-" she hesitated, then, as if deciding against her better judgment, whispered, "They say you are not like the others."Celestine went still.Others.She didn't need to ask what Alina mea

"Who says that?" she asked, he

et thud.For a long moment, Celestine simply stood there, her fingers grazing the golden shackles at her wrists.Not like the others.The words lingered, curling around her like a whisper from the past.She

held firm, but there was a crack in the illusion.And