Heyy lovess 🤍

First of all, thank you so much for all the votes on the poll and the love you've been showing for the Neighbor story. Seeing your reactions and preferences honestly makes writing this even more fun for me 🫶

I noticed that many of you voted for the "noisy neighbor" confrontation, while quite a few of you were also interested in the "locked out" situation. So I decided to do something a little special with these ideas.

The "locked out" incident will still happen in the main story here on Wattpad, and it will appear in the upcoming chapters after the current incident wraps up 🤍

However, the "noisy neighbor" version will be written as an alternate version of the story, which I'm planning to release later as a paid story on my Ko-fi or Scrollstack page once I finish setting those up.

For now, the story here on Wattpad is continuing with another plot direction that hasn't been revealed yet... but don't worry, you'll understand what's going on very soon in the next few updates 😉

The alternate version will take a little more time, but I already have ideas for it and I'll definitely post an update here once it becomes available.

Thank you again for all the votes and support — it really means a lot 🫶

Enjoyy the storyy!!💗💗💗

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The Vertical Warning (Flashback)

As the days bled into one another, I found that the quiet, organized life I had built was no longer enough. I was becoming greedy. My body had developed a treacherous memory of its own; my core would throb at the mere sound of a door closing upstairs, and my mind was constantly looping through the hazy, cherry-smoked evening I'd shared with Mrs. Sharma. But after that day, the dynamic shifted. The "Ghost Tenant" wasn't the only one being elusive. For a week, the wife was nowhere to be seen, and I found myself crossing paths only with him.

The most vivid memory—the one that still makes my breath hitch when I close my eyes—happened in the elevator.

I had been heading to the terrace to check the water tanks, my mind preoccupied with mundane chores. When the doors slid open, he was already there. He didn't say a word. As I stepped inside, he reached out and pressed the button for the terrace, but then he did something that made my heart hammer against my ribs: he deselected the ground floor and the first floor. He hit the emergency stop just as we cleared the second level.

The elevator jolted to a halt, plunging us into a heavy, metallic silence. I didn't feel fear; I felt a rush of terrifying boldness. I knew I should have reached for the controls, should have demanded he move, but I stayed pinned to the spot.

He moved toward me slowly, closing the distance until I could feel the radiating heat of his body. His breath was hot against my forehead, and I knew he could see the frantic jump of my pulse in my neck. When he finally reached out and took my hand, pulling me into him, our lips didn't just meet—they collided. It was a claim, not a question.

I didn't resist. I let him take what he wanted, my hands knotting into his shirt as he squeezed my hip, his fingers digging into the muscle. When he roughly hiked my skirt and found the curve of my butt, a sharp yelp escaped me, lost in the depth of his mouth. He responded by pressing his core flush against mine, letting me feel the rigid proof of his arousal.

He broke the kiss just enough to hover against my ear, his voice a low, vibrating growl.

"I heard you stopped by to... inspect the sink?"

I leaned back against the cold mirrored wall, giving him a mischievous, breathless smile. I thought I was being clever, keeping a secret with his wife. I wondered how he knew—Mrs. Sharma seemed like the type to guard her pleasures closely.

"Don't wonder so much, sweetie," he whispered, reading the confusion on my face. "I make it my business to know exactly what happens in my home when I'm away. Did you really think you could keep a secret from me?"

I tried to play the innocent, blinking up at him with wide eyes. "I never went to check the sink, sir... I promise."

He raised an eyebrow, a dark smirk playing on his lips. Before I could breathe, he grabbed my waist and spun me around, slamming my palms against the cold stainless steel of the elevator wall. The shock of the cold metal against my front while his heat pressed into my back made me shudder violently. I was becoming wetter by the second, the vulnerability of the position acting like an aphrodisiac.

Smack.

The sound of his hand connecting with my skin echoed in the small space. I let out a jagged moan, and in response, his hand moved lower, gripping me through my clothes with a possessive, heavy pressure.

"Look at you," he murmured, his fingers beginning a slow, rhythmic circle over my clit through the fabric. "Should I call you 'Landlady'? Or our pretty 'Personal Maid'? I think I'll stick with 'Sweetie' for now. It suits how soft you are."

I couldn't even form a sentence. I just huffed out weak, broken chuckles of submission. I wouldn't have cared if he called me a slut; I just wanted him to keep going.

"Any 'inspections,'" he continued, his pace quickening, "should only happen when I am present. Whether it's the middle of the night or the crack of dawn, I am the one who oversees this building's... maintenance. Consider this a light warning. I'd hate to have to show you what a real 'trespassing violation' looks like."

His tone turned cold, an edge of steel beneath the lust. "My wife has already had her share of 'teachings' regarding her clumsiness with the sink. You're getting off easy today. Do you understand, sweetie?"

I nodded frantically, my head hanging low as the friction of his hand drove me toward a cliff. The combination of his dominant tone and the rhythmic pressure was too much. I hit my climax right there, pinned against the elevator wall, my moans muffled by the sound of the ventilation hum.

When my knees finally gave out, he caught me before I could hit the floor. He chuckled, a dark, victorious sound.

"Go to your room and rest. And take your clothes off after a while," he said, reaching over to press the ground floor button. The elevator groaned back to life. As the doors opened, he caught my wrist one last time. "Remember... actions have consequences. I'd hate for you to experience them so early."

His eyes were dark—part warning, part invitation. I gulped, trying to find my voice. "Yes, sir... I understand." I tried to sound brave, but my voice was a shaky, breathless mess.

[Present Day]

The memory faded, but the heat it left behind remained. I was back in my living room, the evening sun casting long, orange shadows over my furniture. I was breathing hard, the ghost of his grip still feeling like it was burned into my skin.

The "detective" in me was screaming. If I had received a "warning" like that, what had he done to his wife? What did he mean by "teachings"? I knew it wasn't anything truly dangerous, but the thought of the "notorious" punishment she might have enjoyed made my stomach flip with a mix of jealousy and excitement.

I looked at the clock. 5:45 PM.

I paced my bedroom, my mind a battlefield of decisions. He had told me not to have sessions in his absence... but he hadn't said I couldn't go up to talk. I just wanted to see her. I wanted to see if the "punishment" showed on her face.

I should have known better than to go looking for trouble, but as I grabbed my keys, I realized I was no longer the one in control of this building. They were.

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See you in the next update 🫶✨

Stay tuned!!