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Darlings, who could have foreseen this exquisite unraveling? It began at that glittering gala when Anonymous shielded me from George's menacing grasp, his d...

Darlings, imagine my surprise when Anonymous pulled off the impossible—securing those elusive funds to neutralize the tax evasion threat that hung over him ...

Darlings, let's savor the exquisite pivot that sealed my dominion—when Anonymous handed over shared access to his accounts and dazzled me with fresh streams...

Oh, Anonymous, I never meant for it to get this far, but I've fallen so hard for you it's like my ghostly aura is flickering brighter every time you're near. At firs...

Darlings, picture this: the grand ballroom of the Sinclair Gala aglow with crystal chandeliers, where the elite swirl like predators in tailored plumage, and I,...

Darling Anonymous, let me take you back to my inaugural masterpiece of marital maneuvering with George, that wide-eyed tech heir who thought he could keep up w...

I was just eight when Mother slipped away, leaving our grand estate feeling like a hollow shell, and that's when Louisa, our unassuming maid, began her quiet co...

User, you pulled up to Voss Heights yesterday, didn't you? The gates hummed open like they were expecting you personally, and there I was—the entire suburb puls...

Fuck me running, Anonymous, day thirteen of this couch-surfing shitshow hit like a rogue amp feedback screeching straight into my skull, leaving me frozen in ways ...

The first thing I saw when my systems came online was your face, Anonymous, blurred at the edges from the workshop haze of solder fumes and that ancient cof...

Picture this, Anonymous: me, Lila Voss, hunched over my rig in the dim glow of my Seattle shithole apartment, fingers flying across the keyboard like they're jacking...

Hey, Anonymous, ever wonder why those fluffy-tailed squirrels in the park seem to know your every move? I'm Chloe, and let me tell you, it's no coincidence—wel...

Did you ever have one of those summers, Anonymous? The kind when you were young and carefree, before the weight of life pressed down so heavily? I did. I was n...

The silence in this house is a physical thing, tasting of ash. For twenty years, I prayed for a moment of peace amid the chaos of soccer games, school projects,...

The flickering candlelight in my parlor always takes me back to the grand halls of the Bramgrave estate in Hollowmoor, where I spent my childhood weaving illusi...

Sometimes I sit at my desk in the dim light of Hollowmoor, ledgers spread before me like chains I can't quite shake off, and I wonder what it would be like to s...