"Sara's point of view,""I'm not the house's owner, so feel free to take whatever you want, just please don't shoot."I tried to hide my identity by covering my face. With the hallway light turned off, I couldn't see the thief's face. However, I find it difficult to understand how the burglar gained entry into the house by opening the main gate, especially considering that Great Aaron Finge had secured it with a unique password. He may be an experienced burglar skilled at breaking security codes. My subconscious answered my question. Thieves usually enter through windows or back doors. Why did this one use the main gate? Maybe he's an experienced burglar. But why is my mind thinking so clearly in such a dire situation? Oh no, why is this thief approaching me?I made an effort to go up the stairs quietly and slowly to avoid alerting the thief with the sound of my footsteps. But it was difficult to move silently in the dark. Glancing in his direction, I headed up the steps in t

"Sara's point of view,""Why did you talk to him? Do you have an affair with him?" Angrily, he pulled her hair. "No, please don't beat me; I never think about cheating on you."Her sob echoed throughout the house. "You are lying to me now, witch. With my own eyes, I saw you talking to him." He forcefully struck her back with his belt. "He had come here to return Sara's school books."She rarely expresses her truth between her painful sobs. "How many times have you slept with him? Don't you get satisfaction from me?"He threw her to the ground. "I consider him a brother, so please have faith in me.""Shut up, you witch." He smacked her hard once again. He beat her so much that she could not even get up from her place. She was lying there, unconscious. He was so inebriated that he was unable to stand upright. He turned to face the other direction in search of something to direct his anger at, and when he saw no one living nearby, he began hurling everything in the room. He sha

"Sara's point of view,"Why did his face turn pale upon hearing her name? The mere mention of Aunt Jerry's name filled him with fear. Did he also have a difficult childhood, like me? No, I'm overly emotional at the moment. Do you truly think that this wealthy, charismatic, and well-mannered man had a troubled past? Why do you believe he had any trouble when he changed women more than he changed clothes? Don't waste any more mental energy on Aaron Finge. Leave your speculative thoughts for your stories. My subconscious urged me to refrain from making assumptions about him. Despite my best efforts to remember the hurt he caused me, I couldn't help but wonder about his childhood. Is it appropriate to inquire about his early years? No, that's not a good plan. Since you are merely his sexual partner, it is best if you don't get too involved with him. "Sara, I want to meet you again."I had just finished washing the dishes and was heading out of the kitchen when I saw Neil's message

"Sara's POV,""Aaron, your coffee."I handed him his regular mug in greeting. Compared to the previous night, I sensed a fresh change. He showed me a side I had never seen before. He became friendly with me. In his presence, I was able to express myself freely."What are your plans for today, Sara?" He took a sip of his coffee and met my eyes directly. He had never looked with such intensity. Though I couldn't detect lust in his eyes, he was staring at me differently than usual."I have nothing planned; I plan to spend the day alone." I smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to do when stranded at home alone for two days without any creative spark. Writing is the one activity that keeps me engaged; without it, I have no idea what I will do."Sara, what made you decide to write sexual novels?" He earnestly asked me.Why does he seem to care so much about my life? Rather than asking him about the reason behind his sudden interest in me, I felt it would be a good idea to share my journey to

Sara POV "God, please save me. I do not want to break my hands and legs."I clung to the beach, trying to catch the lantern before it fell to the ground, but the drum I was standing on lost its balance as I was trying to hang it from an oak tree branch. My arms hurt. It became too much for me to bear. The constant rubbing with the oak branch was already making my palm burn. I wished someone could come to my aid to prevent my fall. I could not take the pain in my arms any longer, so I closed my eyes out of dread of falling. Instead of the sound of my thud and the pain in my body that I had anticipated, I felt strong arms encircling me to keep me from falling."What are you doing here, Aron?" For the first time, I firmly gripped his shoulder. His arms made me feel secure. Otherwise, he would grab hold of me and hurl me onto his bed."Sara, could you please explain to me what you are doing up on the oak tree?" He raised his brow at me."I was attempting to hang the lantern over there."