Lost Chapter : Enid Sinclair

***Author note : So I'm trying something new with the Dreampress IA ***

***Edit : Now with a drawing of Enid by Exxidor**

Life was great was Enid. She turned 18 a few months ago, she has a lovely boyfriend that she’s being dating for two years, she was going to gradued go to a renew school art with the help of a scholarship offered by none other than Susan Storm. Little did she knew that Malice had other plans for her.

The lavish Presidential Suite inside the manor was an artful blend of classic and contemporary styles. A tastefully furnished lobby in shades of pristine white welcomed Enid Sinclaire, who hesitantly stepped inside. Her shallow breaths fogged up against the chilly night air, and her heartbeat chattered like a mechanical ticker.

Behind her, Malice prowled in as if she owned the place. She used an illusion to look like she was still innocent Susan Storm.

She smiled gently at Enid, and her eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. "I'm so glad you could come."

Enid nervously looked around the room, her gaze fixated on a collection of BDSM gear displayed tastefully in one corner. She wrung her hands and replied, "I'm not sure if this is such a good idea. I'm not into that sort of thing" showing the gears

Malice waved her off, chuckling. "Don't worry. This will just be an exciting opportunity for you.

I'm here to support your artistic dreams by offering you a full scholarship to New York's premier art school."

Enid's shook with bewilderment and her eyes widened. "For real? Why me?" she asked.

"Oh, you're quite talented," Malice assured, her voice as smooth as FR Egyptian cotton. She moved closer, invading Enid's space, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Enid swallowed hard but held her ground, tension flickering across her features.

When Malice touched her, her skin tingled, sending warm chills down her spine. The scent of leathers and warm vanilla clouded her thoughts, rendering her momentarily speechless.

Malice's fingers danced on Enid's bare shoulder, drawing tingling trails over her skin.

"You see, Enid," Malice started, her voice as velvety as a whisper. "I've been observing you for a while now. You have great potential, and your unique perspective would make you an invaluable addition to the art school's community."

Enid's eyes darted around the room, taking in the sophisticated decor and design.

"Just hearing your proposal does sound exciting. I can't deny that.

I've always dreamed of attending a high-class art school in New York. Still, this seems too good to be true. Is there a catch?" Enid asked, her unease palpable in the air.

"No catch, my dear. I want to empower other young, aspiring artists, and I'm fortunate enough to be able to provide that opportunity." Malice said, carefully selecting her words. "Besides, there's something truly extraordinary about you. I can feel it. You have a wildness inside that you haven't unleashed.

I want to help you discover that part of yourself," Malice promised, inching even closer.

Enid resisted the urge to step back, her curiosity about the offer warring with her instincts. The magnetic charm of Malice was overwhelming, and she fought to hold on to her doubts.

"That's all?" Enid asked, her voice quavering. "You want to support my art?"

Malice's eyes slid down Enid's body, lingering suggestively on the form-fitting dress she was wearing.

"That's all for now," she said, her voice dripping with promise. "We'll continue to discuss this over dinner. Let me summon my manservant to show you to your room, where you can freshen up and rest before we dine."

Before Enid could respond, the door swung open, revealing a hulking, muscled man in a suit and tie. His eyes glinted ominously, flicking over Enid with a hunter's gaze.

"Enid, this is Victor Creed.