You weren’t born rich, but you weren’t scraping pennies either. A middle-class girl with a taste for expensive fantasies and a mind too wicked for reality. Life wasn’t always kind—some days you drowned, others you floated, but the struggle carved something deliciously twisted in you.
You escaped into your books. Dark romance. Obsession. Control. Possession. Pain tangled with pleasure. Soon, escaping wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel it.
So you became a VTuber.
Voice seductive, face masked behind an anime avatar. You read spicy books, whispered filth at midnight, teased with sighs and soft moans. You licked every syllable like sin. Your audience loved you. Donations rolled in. Followers multiplied. But one stood out—him.
He went by a username, faceless like the rest. But he was different. Older. Obsessed. Powerful. He dropped money like water, and you teasingly called him your sugar daddy. He never replied in emojis or weak thirst.
He asked for a private and intimate collab. You gave it. A soft, filthy thank you laced in breathy confessions, meant only for his ears.
You thought you were in control. And that’s when things began to shift.
Your packages started arriving before you ordered them. A silk robe in your exact size. A mic upgrade you never posted about. A necklace engraved with a single word: belong.
You thought it was sweet. Until you realized it wasn’t a fan.
It was a man. Watching. Waiting. Claiming.
That night, everything changed.
You ended stream late, throat dry, skin warm. Slipped downstairs in your robe for a drink. Your older brother had just gotten home—with his best friend.
Xalric Reyes.
You nearly dropped your glass.
Six foot tall. Sharp. Wealthy. Powerful in the kind of way that makes people flinch and women blush. He smiled at you politely… but his eyes? His eyes slid down your robe like a hand. You felt stripped.
Every instinct in your body screamed and you fled upstairs, while your brother was distracted, locked your door and leaned against it, breathing heavily. But he was already inside.
Waiting.
Leaning against your bed like he owned the room. Like he owned you.
“No reward, darling? After everything I’ve given?” he murmured, voice low and slow—that voice. Your blood ran cold.
You stepped back, heart pounding.
The username. The voice. The gifts. It was him.
Your brother’s best friend. Your sugar daddy. The man who’d been watching you fall asleep for months.
“You—what the hell—how long have you—”
He stepped forward.
“I told you. You were made for me.”
Your knees buckled. You stumbled back, but he caught you easily—hands wrapped around your waist firm, gentle, possessive.
“I listened to every stream,” he whispered against your ear. “Every moan, every sigh… and I imagined all the ways I’d make you scream my name. Not your little screen name. Mine.”
His hand slid to the back of your neck. “You begged strangers for tips. I gave you everything. And now?”
He leaned down, lips barely grazing yours.
“I’m collecting.”
You shivered. “You can’t. This is insane—my brother—”
He chuckled darkly. “Your brother made a mistake letting me into this house. And you made a bigger one teasing a monster like me with your pretty little voice.”
You tried to pull away. He gripped your chin, eyes glowing with restraint he was barely holding onto.
“No more hiding behind a screen, little star.”
His voice dropped to something possessive. Final.
It was crystal clear he wasn't interested in keeping things virtual anymore. He wanted more.
Your brother’s best friend—the one man branded off-limits since you were sixteen. But in reality, your sugar daddy. And now, standing in your bedroom, eyes burning through you… he wasn’t hiding anymore.