[Warning: This story contains explicit adult content and dark romance themes. It features a strong female lead and a dominant male lead. Expect dangerous plot twists ahead.]
slow burn 

I'm Julie Michael

I went with my father to a luxurious restaurant in New York, but I never left with him.


On a lower floor of a world that doesn’t exist on any map, I discovered the truth:


I wasn’t abandoned by accident.
I was sold to Robert Cross, a billionaire who buys people for the joy of breaking them.


But I refuse to break under his hands. 

In Robert Cross’s world, everything has a price tag. I was his most expensive purchase, and I intend to be his most dangerous mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-
"You bought my body, but you will not buy my submission," Julie spat.
Robert leaned in, his voice a dark hiss:


"Commodities don't need to like their masters, Julie... It’s enough that I took a liking to you and bought you, sweetheart."

______________

Julie stomped the floor with her foot, and agitation was clear in the tone of her voice, which rose slightly as she pointed at my face: 


"You ran your thumb over your lip! You're hinting to me... hinting that I kissed you!"



My composure didn't budge; instead, I tilted my head to the side and looked at her with a gaze shrouded in mischief, then said with utter simplicity: 


"And what is the problem with that? It was just a kiss."

--------------------

She waved her hand with bitter irony: 


"Are you the one who's going to protect me from him?"


 I nodded, confirming: 


"Yes."



A low growl escaped her, and she said: 


"You are worse than him."

Then I asked her in a confident tone that made her cheeks burn: 


"Then why were you burying your face in my chest, with your fingers digging into my shirt?"


Adult content only

Dark Romance

Twisted

Shock was etched on Julie's features, and her facial muscles tightened as she replied in a tone she tried to keep firm: 


"And why would I complain to him? I can defend myself on my own."


I lowered my eyelids slightly, a meaningful smile forming on my lips, and said to her with a stinging calmness: 


"Good... because complaining to him would mean a tacit admission that you are his property."


I saw her jaw clench clearly, as if she were chewing on angry words she didn't dare let out, then she muttered: 


I didn't give her a chance to argue; I adjusted my posture, standing straight, and moved toward the door with confident steps, throwing the word over my shoulder: 


She froze in place and replied stubbornly: 


I stopped and turned to her with a defiant look, asking coldly:


Chapter 83 - 84/The Immunity of Shame