The Walls Have Eyes

Mr. Owen opens the door with that silver-fox grin and lets Hailey drag her busted suitcase over the marble. She’s broke, newly homeless, and the spotless house smells like money. Five minutes later he’s gone—or so she thinks. Night one she senses movement behind her reflection in the hallway mirror. Day three a shadow slides under the bedroom door and vanishes when she spins around. Every creak sounds like it’s breathing. She sets a glass on the counter, comes back, finds it moved half an inch. When she finally catches him—Derek—stepping out of the walk-in closet with her panties in his fist, the silence cracks like a whip. He drops the act: no business trip, just a filthy habit. She’s the latest toy in his private game. Her stomach twists; her pulse won’t slow down. He offers the room, the roof, the cash. In return he wants open access—her body on demand, any hole, any time. She should slap him, storm out, but eviction notices and zero dollars keep her glued to the floor. She nods once. He smiles like he’s already inside her.