My Landlord’s Hidden Camera in Our Bathroom - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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Her body went limp as consciousness slipped away.
I rose in a daze, pacing the room like a caged animal.
What now? Call the cops?
No—hell no.
If I did, Emily Valentine would disappear from my life forever.
An agonizing hour crawled by before I finally decided.
Lifting the mirror, I slipped into the next room. Before she could stir, I erased every trace of what had happened.
The bathroom gleamed, flawless once more.
Perfect.
This was how it should be—serene, untouched.
My perfect muse, Emily Valentine, lay still in peaceful slumber.
Now I could keep this private world—just her and me.
Earlier, she'd taken a call in the bathroom.
From the way she spoke—soft, nostalgic—it must've been an old friend, maybe a college classmate.
I knew she'd finally landed a decent gig as a receptionist at some foreign firm.
No surprise, she had admirers. Plenty of them.
She also had her girlfriends—the voice on the other end sounded like one of them.
She mentioned she hadn't given up on school, had even enrolled in some adult education program.
Sometimes, watching her—alive, breathing—I'd lose myself.
Was she really just something to look at?
She was right there. Only a mirror between us.
No, I wasn't just watching. I was part of her life now.
And now, with what I held over her, she was mine.
Rejoice for me, Apollo, god of art!
Endless inspiration would be mine!
That day, she stood naked before the mirror, slipping into a sheer black La Perla nightgown—one I'd never seen before.
I frowned. She hated black.
Then, slowly, she raised her hand—clutching a sharp paring knife.
Finally, she stepped out of the bathroom.
A cold dread washed over me.
What was she doing? Was she going to kill herself?
Had my threats really broken her that badly?
Five minutes later, a knock at my door.
I scrambled into clothes, rushing to answer.
"Who is it?"
"Your neighbor. Next door."
That voice—sweet, familiar.
Emily Valentine.
I rose in a daze, pacing the room like a caged animal.
What now? Call the cops?
No—hell no.
If I did, Emily Valentine would disappear from my life forever.
An agonizing hour crawled by before I finally decided.
Lifting the mirror, I slipped into the next room. Before she could stir, I erased every trace of what had happened.
The bathroom gleamed, flawless once more.
Perfect.
This was how it should be—serene, untouched.
My perfect muse, Emily Valentine, lay still in peaceful slumber.
Now I could keep this private world—just her and me.
Earlier, she'd taken a call in the bathroom.
From the way she spoke—soft, nostalgic—it must've been an old friend, maybe a college classmate.
I knew she'd finally landed a decent gig as a receptionist at some foreign firm.
No surprise, she had admirers. Plenty of them.
She also had her girlfriends—the voice on the other end sounded like one of them.
She mentioned she hadn't given up on school, had even enrolled in some adult education program.
Sometimes, watching her—alive, breathing—I'd lose myself.
Was she really just something to look at?
She was right there. Only a mirror between us.
No, I wasn't just watching. I was part of her life now.
And now, with what I held over her, she was mine.
Rejoice for me, Apollo, god of art!
Endless inspiration would be mine!
That day, she stood naked before the mirror, slipping into a sheer black La Perla nightgown—one I'd never seen before.
I frowned. She hated black.
Then, slowly, she raised her hand—clutching a sharp paring knife.
Finally, she stepped out of the bathroom.
A cold dread washed over me.
What was she doing? Was she going to kill herself?
Had my threats really broken her that badly?
Five minutes later, a knock at my door.
I scrambled into clothes, rushing to answer.
"Who is it?"
"Your neighbor. Next door."
That voice—sweet, familiar.
Emily Valentine.
End of My Landlord’s Hidden Camera in Our Bathroom Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to My Landlord’s Hidden Camera in Our Bathroom book page.