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A small apartment in a nondescript part of the city was what I called home. I had very few friends, none of whom I entrusted with secrets. I realized Anastasia had to be kept in the dark, confined to a virtual dungeon that lustful men frequented for sexual release.I did have a best friend before that. Our friendship had gone way back to the early days of childhood, until he decided to slowly (but surely) distance himself from me. We hadn’t spoken for more than a year when he contacted me. My phone buzzed two times, and I saw his name pop up on my lock screen. I shakily unlocked my phone and typed a short reply.After we’d exchanged text-based pleasantries, he promptly asked for a favor. I thought it rude at first, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no to him. You see, I’ve always had a crush on Ryan. It’s probably why I never blamed him for wanting to keep his distance. He must have sensed my growing feelings for him, feelings that he couldn’t reciprocate let alone understand, and. “Weren’t you supposed to deliver the TV set today afternoon?”“Who…oh yes… Mrs. Kutty… but…” the old man said stalling. But he saw his boss’s expressions change to rage and so suddenly, “Yes, I am going now.”The old man was panicking a bit as he struggled with the TV set. This obese guy Raman was just sitting on his chair watching. The photos he was watching went off and came to a screensaver of a younger version of him holding a baby in his hand.He lost his arousal seeing that and so he closed his eyes leaning back in the chair.“My dear Ruhi. I love you,” he said in his mind. “It seemed like only yesterday that your mother gave birth to you and passed away leaving you in my arms. Even at this time of great loss, you were the best thing that could happen to me. I was sad and depressed.”“But taking care of you, seeing that cute smile on your face. That pulled me back from the land of the dead. I’ve seen you grow old from a cute little baby to a 21 years old college girl that you are.
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Stifled moans and cries, and a steady creaking. Greta’s red face darkened toward purple. Constance donned a wide-eyed look, trying to mask the jealousy she felt. Just then, the outer door opened and a man came quietly in with a lantern. He stopped short as he saw the fully-clothed Constance and the chemise-clad Greta standing by Daisy’s room. Walter. Constance had an inner sense of a fragile structure, a house of cards perhaps, trembling on the point of catastrophic collapse. If Walter was out here, it must be Lord Cuthburt in Daisy’s bed. He looked at the door. The sounds coming from behind it were nearing a crescendo, the creaking more rapid. Greta seemed stunned, unsure of what to do. It gave Walter a precious moment to dissemble and stare quizzically at Constance, the very picture of a man who wanted to ask who the devil she was but had more important matters to attend to. He strode across the kitchen with the lantern in his fist, and flung open the door to Daisy’s room. The.

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