Toxic Dump (Page 2)

Toxic Dump

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Sabeen: With Evidence

Zara was sixteen when the evidence began to pile up like contrails. She woke to the soft click of the front door at 12:03 a.m.—the same sound that ended every “client dinner.” She lay still, counting the familiar choreography: heels off in the hallway (two muted thuds)

Sabeen: At the Dorchester

The click of Sabeen’s Louboutins echoed through the glass corridors of Canary Wharf like a metronome keeping time for her double life. At forty-two, she still turned heads in the open-plan trading floor of Harrington & Black—tailored charcoal suits, silk blouses the colour of fresh blood, and those

Elena and Lucas: The Heavy Scar

Elena’s mind was a storm she couldn’t outrun. This is my son. The thought hit like a slap every time Lucas moved inside her (his cock stretching her ass, his breath hot on her neck). My baby boy, who used to cry when I left the room. But

Elena and Lucas: The Night Calm

Elena’s fingers still glistened with their mingled release when she pushed Lucas onto his back. His cock, half-hard and slick with cum, twitched against his stomach. She crawled between his thighs, the mattress creaking under her knees. “Mom—” he started, voice hoarse. “Shh.” She licked a stripe up his

Elena and Lucas: The Desert Heat

The radiator gave one last death-rattle hiss before the hood filled with steam. Elena killed the engine and slumped against the steering wheel, forty years old and suddenly ancient. Her sundress clung to her thighs like wet paper; sweat traced the hollow of her spine. In the passenger seat, Lucas—