The World Is Mine For The Taking

Leon's POV

Charlotte's eyes blazed with fury as she unleashed her wrath upon me.

"You rapist! How dare you violate me like this?! How dare you degrade me in such a manner?! You've defiled my innocence, again and again! I refuse to be treated like your plaything!"

Her words cut through the air like a sharp knife, each accusation laced with venom. She was fully awake now, her body no longer under the spell of our shared desires, and her anger was palpable.

I couldn't help but sigh in response. "Is this how you repay me after I've just delivered the news of your father's passing? Charlotte, I never imagined you capable of such callousness."

She seethed even more, her eyes blazing with fury. "I don't care what happens to him now anyway, now that I know his true colors. Besides, I was never close to him. All he cared about was politics and committing countless misdeeds. I've hated him since I was a child."

"Well, you could at least show some sadness," I retorted, trying to provoke a different reaction.

"If he felt any sadness about selling me off, then maybe I would. But he had no remorse. At this point, I don't care if his death was brutal or not," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Her words were laced with venom, and it was clear she wasn't going to break down over her father's death. I knew she'd despise me if she ever found out I was the one who ordered his death. But that secret was safe—only Amon and my Shadows knew, and they were as silent as the grave.

"Anyway, what's your plan for me now? Am I going to be trapped here until I've paid off every last cent I owe you?" Charlotte's voice trembled with uncertainty, her eyes searching mine for answers.

Truth be told, I could easily release Charlotte now. The money her father received when he sold her to me had already found its way back into my possession. In essence, Charlotte didn't owe me a damn thing anymore. Yet, surprisingly, she didn't seem to grasp this fact. Perhaps she assumed the money had vanished after her father's demise.

Or maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that desired to remain here. A part of her that longed for another round of passion.

I smiled at her, my eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and desire. "You don't have to do anything special. Sure, you're in a maid outfit now, but you're not really a maid. You can still go to the academy as usual, meet your friends like always, and even flirt with Professor Sesillian like you always do. The only thing you need to do is come when I call you.

And make sure you're wet and ready when you do."

"You pervert," she hissed, glaring at me with a fiery defiance that was incredibly enticing. Her resistance only fueled my desire, like navigating a fierce labyrinth that no one else had managed to conquer. Each act of rebellion, each sharp retort, was another step toward breaking her down, slowly but surely, until she was completely mine.

After glaring at me, she gritted her teeth, her inner turmoil written all over her face. The conflict was palpable. Even though she didn't have an actual relationship with Sesillian, it must feel like she was cheating on him behind his back. But her body, which had already tasted the ecstasy of being a woman, was betraying her, urging her to stay with me. The struggle within her was fierce.

Her only hope of reversing this pull was to have sex with Sesillian. When the vacation ended, I was certain Charlotte would go straight to him and reclaim some semblance of control over her desires.

I wasn't worried, though. Mainly because I knew Sesillian wouldn't go through with it. He had some bizarre fixation on preserving her chastity. I'd had Gabrielle and the Shadows investigate him after his strange behavior during the joint training session. It turns out he's the leader of a cult organization called Eclipse.

There were likely two reasons, either one or both, for why he hadn't touched Charlotte, even though she practically threw herself at him. That's why I wasn't concerned about Sesillian fucking her, even if Charlotte begged for it. No matter how desperately she tried to convince him, Sesillian wouldn't cave. I was certain of that.

After waiting a bit longer, the door to my Love Nest finally creaked open, revealing five stunning women in pink, eye-catching idol uniforms. Their outfits hugged their curves in all the right places, making them look both innocent and provocatively enticing.

Amon, exuding an air of confident authority, followed closely behind them.

"They're ready, Master," she announced, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

"Good," I replied, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across my face.

Charlotte's eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. "Hmm? They look so familiar... W-Wait a second! Aren't they the Starry Knights? W-Why are they here?" Her voice trembled with a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Well, what else? The Starry Knights are the idol group made by our company," I said with a grin.

Charlotte stood there, jaw slack in disbelief.

I turned my gaze to the five women, all poised and ready. Their debuts were imminent. It was time for them to take the stage and shine.

***

Martha's POV

Karina was pushing my wheelchair through the familiar halls of the home I once lived in, back before I lost my memory. This place, I learned, was a brothel. The women here, dressed in revealing outfits, were prostitutes, selling their bodies for money. I used to be the manager of this establishment before Grandmother took it back from me.

"Are you fine with staying the night here, Miss Martha?" Karina asked, her voice gentle but tinged with concern.

"It's fine," I replied, looking around at the familiar yet distant surroundings. "I'm sure Leon is swamped now that Erica and the girls are getting ready for their debut. I don't want to bother him with anything else right now."

"I don't think Mr. Leon would be bothered by you, Miss Martha," Karina reassured me.

"I'm sure anyone with a heart would feel burdened caring for an ill woman like me," I admitted.

Karina's expression softened. "I'm not bothered by it," she said. "But if you're okay staying here for the night, then I'm okay with it too. Some of the prostitutes you used to look after miss you. They're here."

We entered what looked like a canteen, where women dressed in alluring outfits sat chatting. As they caught sight of me, their faces brightened with genuine affection.

"Oh, it's Martha!"

"It really is! It's been ages since we last laid eyes on you!"

"We heard from Karina that your bastard of a brother did something unspeakable to you. Thank the stars you're alright!"

They gathered around me, enveloping me in their warm embrace. Some whispered words of comfort while others hugged me tighter, their worry evident in every touch.

"I'm sorry for not reaching out sooner to let you know I'm okay. I've been slowly piecing myself back together after what happened. And I'm sorry for not remembering all of you."

"It's fine," one of them rubbed my back reassuringly. "We're just glad you're okay."

As they comforted me, another woman rushed towards us.

"L-Lica...!" she shouted. "Lica's dead!"

"What?!"

The women were stunned.

"What happened?!"

"I-In her room!"

As soon as the woman uttered those words, the others dashed towards the room where the supposed dead person lay.

"Wait for me here, Miss Martha," Karina instructed before joining the fray.

It felt all wrong to stay put. Someone had just died, possibly someone close to me. I couldn't just sit idly by. So, with determination, I took control of my wheelchair and propelled myself forward until I reached them.

In the dimly lit room, the scene unfolded before me—a woman suspended from the ceiling.

Hanged.

The sight of the woman hanging from the ceiling by a rope sent a shiver down my spine, triggering a haunting vision.

In an instant, I found myself engulfed in darkness, my hands gripping a noose while my feet teetered upon a sturdy stool. The air was thick with a sense of foreboding as I watched my hands methodically place the noose around my head, drawing it tight around my neck.

"I'm sorry, Tsubasa..."

The voice, eerily familiar yet distant, echoed through the void as if it were my own. With a heavy heart, I felt my feet propel the stool away, leaving me suspended in the air.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

My scream tore through the silence like a banshee's wail, reverberating off the walls. In a frenzy of panic, I clutched at my own neck, as if I were the one being strangled. With trembling hands, I clawed at the invisible grip, desperate for air. Before I knew it, I was out of the wheelchair, my body convulsing with terror.

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