HHWM | Chapter 5: The Apartment of Lost Souls

Greg ran his hands over his face, the friction of his palms against his skin the only thing grounding him. He stared at the documents on his desk, but the words were mere ink stains, devoid of meaning.

He had tried to get rid of her. He had attempted to build a fortress of morality around his wife’s pregnancy, convincing himself that the dream of being a “good father” would be enough to drown out the memory of Selene’s skin. But he had been wrong. The moment he tasted her again in that storage room, his aspirations for a clean life didn’t just fade—they dissolved into the dark.

He was an addict, and Selene was the only fix that stopped the shaking. he had offered him a devil’s bargain—and he had taken it willingly. Stay by my side, and the world will never know. It was a promise as sweet as nectar and as sharp as a razor, and he was swallowing it whole.

“Sir?”

The voice of his secretary, Saya, snapped the tether. He hadn’t even heard her enter.

“I’m getting worried, Sir. You’ve been at your desk for days. Your wife might start to think the office is your permanent residence.”

Greg forced a veneer of professional warmth into his voice, a mask he wore with increasing exhaustion. “Don’t worry, Saya. My wife understands the demands of the firm. But you? Why are you still here? Your boyfriend will start to think I’m holding you hostage.”

“In that case, Sir, I’ll head out,” she said with a small wave.

Greg waited, listening to the fading click of her heels until the floor was silent. Only then did he move. He bypassed the route to his marital home,his car slipping into the shadows of an underground parking lot.

He didn’t go home to Mayette. He went to the apartment.

The lights in the window sparked dread first—then euphoria. Before he could even turn his key, the door swung open. Selene stood there, framed by the light. He surged forward, grabbing her arm and hauling her back inside the threshold.

“I told you to stay away from the windows,” he hissed, the door clicking shut behind them. “What if someone sees us?”

“They’ll just think it’s a devoted father coming home,” Selene purred, a playful, jagged smile tugging at her lips. “If you’re this twitchy, Greg, people will start to wonder what you’re actually hiding.”

She was still dressed from school. The pleated skirt and starched collar was a sickening contrast to the way she looked at him. She knew exactly what that uniform did to his resolve. She stepped into his space, looping her arms around his neck, pulling the man who was supposed to be her protector into her orbit.

“Won’t you?” she whispered.

The ironed perfection of her uniform was the first thing to go as he hoisted her onto the kitchen bar.He didn’t strip her. He ruined the fabric, the way it bunched and wrinkled under his rough handling. Her underwear was cast aside, snagged on one knee, as he claimed her with a brutal, animalistic hunger.

In the boardroom, Greg was a gentleman. Here, in the dim light of the apartment, he was a monster. There was no gentleness in his touch, only a desperate, punishing heat that blurred the line between worship and abuse.

“Unghh… Ninong…” Selene whimpered, her voice a plea as he drove himself into her with a speed she couldn’t match.

He moved her from the bar to the cold wall by the window, his earlier caution incinerated by the sound of that title—Ninong. Every time she said it, it felt like a collision between his rotting conscience and his screaming nerves. He wanted to be seen; he wanted to be caught; he wanted to be destroyed by her.

Selene watched the conflict in his eyes, relishing the way his pupils blew wide with lust. She held him at the nape of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him into a kiss that tasted of iron and salt. She had lied to her mother, claiming a three-day sleepover with a friend, just to have him like this—under her thumb, gasping for air in her lungs.

He buried his face in her neck, his new stubble grazing her skin, sending jolts of electricity through her frame. When he reached his peak, he didn’t pull away. He stayed deep within her, a primal urge to leave a mark, to claim her in a way that biology wouldn’t allow.

“I have to go,” Greg said, already bracing for resistance. His breath was hot against her skin. “Mayette is waiting.”

“No,” Selene snarled, her legs tightening around his waist like a vice. “You can’t leave me like this.”

“We had a deal, Selene. You promised to play the part so they wouldn’t suspect.”

She leaned in, her teeth grazing the shell of his ear, her tongue tracing the line of his jaw before meeting his eyes with a look of practiced, heartbreaking vulnerability. “But I’m scared,” she whispered. “You’re really leaving?”

Greg swallowed hard. He could feel his resolve liquefying.

She shifted her weight, guiding him back into the heat, her voice a low, rhythmic moan as she began to move against him once more. “Ninong…”

“Selene—!”

The lights in the apartment stayed dark. The starched uniform was left in a heap on the floor, and the only sound that remained was the hoarse voice of a girl who had turned her godfather into a ghost.