The smell of cinnamon and coffee filled our apartment long before I opened my eyes.
I smiled against my pillow instantly. Mom was baking again.
The smell of cinnamon and coffee was one of my things about our apartment. It was so cozy and warm. Rain tapped softly against the windows while weak morning sunlight struggled through the gray clouds hanging above Ravencroft City. Below, distant car horns echoed endlessly through crowded streets.Sirens blended into the soundtrack of city life.
This was the atmosphere of my neighborhood. It was peaceful, safe, and secure, away from the noise of luxury homes, which carried nothing but pretense hidden constantly under smiles, hugs, and laughter, just like the Blackthorne estate on the other side of town. At least that was how our apartment felt to me.
I rolled onto my back slowly, staring up at the ceiling while my digital clock blinked 10:47 AM beside the bed. It was a Saturday morning, which meant one thing.
Mom would spend the morning pretending she wasn’t working while secretly answering business calls every twenty minutes.
A soft groan escaped me as I buried my face briefly into the pillow again.I was not looking forward to this day. A knock sounded against my bedroom door.
"There’s my sleeping beauty." Mum giggled.
I looked up immediately and smiled. “Good morning, Mum.” I greeted.
Lila Voss, my mom, stood in the doorway balancing two coffee mugs carefully while loose dark curls framed her face. Even as she was dressed casually in cream-colored lounge pants and an oversized sweater, she somehow looked effortlessly elegant.
My mom was the reason why I usually got compliments from men. I had a body that was similar to hers, a body that is a masterpiece of sinful symmetry. An intoxicating hourglass sculpted by the gods of desire itself.
I possessed a generous bust that swells with tempting promise, straining softly against fabric as if begging for release. This flows into a narrowed waist so slender and cinched that it looks like it was hand-carved for a lover’s hands to grip and control. The contrast is devastating. My tiny, elegant waist flared out into wide hips and a gloriously rounded heart-shaped ass that sways with hypnotic rhythm in every step of mine.
Long toned legs that seem smooth, thighs that press together with plush invitation, and a back that arches into a perfect, feminine S-curve, accentuating the swell of my breasts and the proud jut of my backside. A body built for worship.A shape designed to ruin men.Pure walking temptation.
At forty-two, my mom carried herself with grace that made people trust her instantly.Men admired her intelligence. Women respected her professionalism. Entire corporations fought to hire her because she was one of the financial experts in Ravencroft.
Despite spending years surrounded by dangerous elite circles through the Blackthorne Empire, she remained a gentle, soft human. That was probably why everyone loved her. Including me.
“You’re staring again," she teased softly. I was staring at my mom because I was trying to understand how she looked this good before eleven in the morning.
"I moisturize," she said with a smile.
I laughed quietly as she entered the room slowly before handing me one of the mugs. I placed it down on a counter beside my bed.
"Thanks, Mom.You’re ridiculous." I complemented.
"And you’re dramatic before caffeine," she replied.
"That’s true, " I muttered.
I sat up against the headboard while she walked toward the curtains and pulled them open, allowing gray morning light to spill across my bedroom.
Our apartment overlooked downtown Ravencroft. Glass skyscrapers, crowded streets, movement. We lived on the floor of an expensive high-rise overlooking the river, far enough from the noise below to feel peaceful without becoming isolated.
My mom loved this place. She said the sunlight made it feel alive.
Personally, I loved that it didn’t feel anything like the homes owned by wealthy people in our social circle. No armed guards. No silent marble hallways. No cold luxury pretending to be love. Just home.
“You aren’t going to dance club today?” Mom asked casually.
"Oh no," I groaned, dramatically falling backward against the pillows again.
The truth was, I’d already decided not to go the second I woke up. My dance clothes sat untouched across the chair near my desk like disappointment.
I joined the dance club six months ago because my mom insisted I needed a hobby after I had just completed my high school education. At first, I hated every second of it. Then somehow I started loving it.
The music, the movement, the feeling of disappearing into rhythm until nothing else mattered.
Today? My body felt heavy.Painfully aware of itself.
"Everything okay, sweetheart?" She asked.
I forced a smile and shrugged. "Yeah, just not feeling it today." The words sounded weak to me.
I would’ve been out the door by now, earbuds in, rehearsing the stunts we practiced last week. Today, the thought of changing clothes felt like climbing a mountain.
My mom understood clearly because I was shedding eggs for the month.
She had that knowing look mothers get when they don’t need the explanation. The dull ache in my lower back and the familiar heaviness in my body had already made the decision for me the moment I woke up.
She stepped further and sat on the edge of my bed. "Cramp’s bad today?" she asked.
"Not terrible," I muttered.
My mom nodded sympathetically. "Remember what I told you last month? Rest is very important." "Sip your coffee, it’s getting cold," she said.
I grabbed the coffee mug she had kept on my bedside counter and took a sip. The warmth spread through me, sweet and comforting though it did little to ease the cramps twisting low in my belly. "Thanks, Mom," I mumbled, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.
The coffee was how I liked it. Strong coffee with much sugar, and that was exactly how I liked it. My mom always remembered the slightest of things. She always did.
I sighed quietly while adjusting the blanket around my waist. The cramps started that morning. Dull aching pain twisted low in my stomach and spread into my back until even standing felt exhausting.
Being sixteen was already difficult enough without my body randomly deciding to declare war against me every month.
"You should eat something before taking painkillers, " my mom said.
"Yes, doctor." I replied.
She rolled her eyes affectionately before standing that was when I noticed how tired she looked.
The faint shadows beneath her eyes and the tension hidden behind her smile.
“You okay?" I asked quietly.
My mom paused briefly and then answered, "Work stress."
"That answer becomes less believable every time you use it," I said.
"Maybe because you interrogate me professionally," she replied.
"Maybe because you act suspicious." I replied. Something unreadable flickered briefly across her face before disappearing.
"You sound older every day." She continued. "I’m evolving." I said.
"Into trouble, probably." She said. "Most likely." I replied.
Rain hammered softly against the windows again while silence settled comfortably between us and I watched my mom carefull, really watched her.
Suddenly, I realized something strange. She looked nervous, not visibly, not enough for most people to notice. I noticed because she was my mom. Because lately she’d started checking locks twice before bed and also taking longer routes while driving home. Like she was trying to avoid something or someone.
I didn’t know why exactly. Honestly? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
The Blackthorne Empire paid her well, but sometimes I wondered what exactly people like Vivian Blackthorne truly did behind closed doors. My mom always avoided answering ."Adult business," she’d say, which usually meant dangerous business.
“You know what your problem is?" I asked suddenly. "What?" She replied.
"You carry everything alone." I answered and her expression softened instantly.
"You’re too wise for sixteen." She said. "I learned from watching you." I said.
Emotion flickered briefly behind her eyes before she leaned down and kissed my forehead gently.
"You should sleep more," she murmured. "I just woke up." I replied. "Then rest dramatically instead." She continued. "That I can do." I answered.
She smiled faintly before moving toward the bedroom door. “I’m heading to the market to get a few things," she said.
I sat up slightly. "In this weather?" I questioned. "We’re out of groceries." She answered.
"Can you get me some chocolate? The one with almonds" I grinned weakly. "Of course." She said. "Painkillers too?" I requested. "Already, on the list." She said.
God, she really remembered everything.
“Make sure you answer my calls if I check on you," she said.
"I’m sixteen, not six." I protested. "You’ll always be my baby." She replied. Warmth spread quietly through my chest. "I know." I said.
For a moment, she just stood there watching me silently like she wanted to say something. Something important. Then, finally, she smiled again. "Rest well, sweetheart." Then she walked out.
The bedroom door closed softly behind my mom. I listened carefully as my mom's footsteps faded down the hallway. Then silence took over the apartment completely.
I leaned back slowly against the pillows again, adjusting the blanket around myself while the rain kept falling, The cramps still there. They were softer now, and I could manage them.
I reached for my phone briefly before deciding not to use it and setting it down. For once, I did not feel guilty about doing nothing as my body felt exhausted and heavy and within minutes, my eyes drifted shut again.
Sleep took over fast. The kind of sleep that made me forget about time completely.
About 4 hours later, when I finally woke up again, the room had gotten dark.
Golden evening light was shining faintly across my walls.
The rain had stopped. I blinked slowly, feeling disoriented.
The apartment felt too quiet. I reached for my phone. It was 5:36 PM.
My stomach tightened slightly because my mom should have been back hours ago. "Had my mom returned and left again?" I thought to myself.
I sat up carefully, wincing faintly at the lingering cramps before glancing toward my bedroom door. It was closed and here were no sounds from the kitchen or smell of dinner. No soft music was playing from my mom's speakers. Just nothing. I started to feel uneasy.
"Mom?" I called out loudly. There was silence. Then I frowned. Maybe traffic had delayed her. Maybe she stopped for work again. Something felt wrong. I grabbed my phone quickly and checked for messages but there were none. No missed calls and no texts.
I dialled her number but it could not connect. My heartbeat got quicker now. That was not normal. My mom always answered. Always.
The apartment was still empty. It was cold and silent and for the first time in a long time I began to feel fear quietly inside my chest.
