Introduction
"What the hell, it even has haptic vibration feedback? Are they seriously making these things this realistic now?"
Taking advantage of my roommate being out on a sales call, I tossed this ridiculously expensive "high-end realistic doll" onto my bed.
Watching her body tremble slightly, almost uncontrollably, the twisted fire in my gut burned even hotter.
"Baby, here I come!"
Taking advantage of my roommate being out on a sales call, I tossed this ridiculously expensive "high-end realistic doll" onto my bed.
Watching her body tremble slightly, almost uncontrollably, the twisted fire in my gut burned even hotter.
"Baby, here I come!"
Chapter 1
My name is Jack. I’m a total, textbook loser—the kind you can find on any street corner in Los Angeles.
I’m in my late twenties, don’t own a house, drive a beat-up used Honda, and am still struggling to pay off my crippling student loans.
I share an apartment in the city with a friend just to scrape by.
My roommate, Mike, is a sales broker. He’s your typical smooth-talker and navigates his industry way better than I ever could.
Early that morning, I was half-asleep when a commotion in the living room woke me up.
It sounded like he was talking to someone—maybe a FedEx guy dropping off a massive package.
"What the hell is this? I didn't order anything off Amazon recently..." Mike muttered, but I heard him sign the electronic pad anyway.
I rolled over, figuring the bastard had probably maxed out his credit card on some useless junk again.
Less than two minutes later, his phone rang. It sounded like a client. He hastily grabbed his jacket and slammed the front door shut.
All that noise completely killed my sleep. Irritated, I dragged myself out of bed to take a leak.
When I got back into bed, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I grabbed my phone and started doom-scrolling Instagram.
The algorithm was absolute poison. It kept feeding me videos of hot influencer models in tiny bikinis with barely any fabric.
Their exaggerated curves and provocative eyes were tantalizing. A primal, restless heat instantly surged through me.
You had to admit, these girls knew exactly how to hook a man's desires.
My mouth went dry, and my whole body felt unbearably tense.
Finally unable to hold back, I sat up, flipped open my MacBook, and expertly clicked into my saved Pornhub playlist.
The moment the familiar background audio and visuals started playing, that bursting sensation grew even stronger.
I leaned back in my desk chair, eyes glued to the screen, my hand unconsciously slipping into my pajama pants...
Just as I was getting hot, breathing heavily, I suddenly heard a noise from the living room.
Startled, I slammed the spacebar to pause the video.
Did Mike forget something and come back? My heart tightened. If he caught me watching this kind of stuff first thing in the morning, he’d ruthlessly mock me for an entire year.
I quietly pushed my bedroom door open and peeked my head out.
The living room was completely empty. Did I just imagine it?
I let out a sigh of relief. Feeling incredibly thirsty, I decided to head to the open kitchen for a glass of ice water.
But as soon as I stepped into the living room, I saw an enormous cardboard box standing in the corner.
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She doesn't know who he is.
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William has spent his life taking whatever he wants.
And now he wants her.
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I never gave a damn about the whispers or the shame. She was my sister. I would always stand between her and this cruel world, protecting her with everything I had.
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The academy council called it suicide. The nobles blamed the Twin Curse—the weaker twin had to die so the stronger one could thrive.
Bullshit.
I know the truth.
My sister was killed to keep a secret buried.
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I'm starting to think that was never really an option.
