Taboo Sin System

Chapter 2 Panty Raid

Servants were not allowed on the second floor. Pan went up anyway.

His feet stayed on the rugs. Eleven years of chores had taught him which boards creaked and which didn't. Noise was the fastest way to die in this house.

A door banged open below, and Gemina's voice carried up the stairwell.

"Pan! Where has that boy gone now?"

Pan pressed himself flat between two portraits and counted to twenty. A maid answered her from the kitchen, then the door banged shut.

No footsteps on the stairs. Phew.

Every room along the hall was closed except one.

Lila's door was the third on the left, and it stood a hand's width open. She had never locked it in her life. Queens did not worry about burglars, and that arrogance was the only opening he had.

Pan eased it wider with two fingers and stepped through. The bathroom door on the far wall was shut. Steam curled out from under it.

Lila was in there singing off-key over the shower water. His pulse jumped once, then settled.

His elder sister was dumb, but she had sharp ears. He had to be dead quiet.

The worst case scenario was simple.

Lila steps out, catching him in the act. She screams her head off.

Gregory takes the whip to him in front of the entire Osborne household. Then what is left of him goes out the front gate with a bag.

Being thrown onto the streets of Cloyster City was a dreadful thought. Pan had no intention of being homeless at the age of eighteen.

Pan shut the hall door behind him without a click. Backing out was no longer an option. Let's find the cufflinks first, and worry about everything else after.

Lila's king-size bed sat against the north wall, unmade. It had plush toys scattered across it, with a week of clothes on the floor.

A girl who did not pick up after herself lived in this room. That carelessness was the reason this infiltration had a chance.

A pair of see-through leggings lay across the mattress. Pan stopped short. Does Lila really have such long legs?

Eleven years in the same house and Pan had not once looked. He could not stand his sisters' faces, let alone the rest of their bodies.

Not now. Focus on the cufflinks.

Pan went for the shelves first. He found perfume, a jewelry tree, and three framed photos of Lila. The desk carried makeup, a vape, and a roll of twenties.

Pan worked methodically. The cabinet by the window had shoes. The bedside table gave him a phone charger and half a protein bar. Under the bed, a shoebox of receipts.

Only the wardrobe remained. Six minutes were already gone.

The first drawer was designer blouses. The next was leather, skirts, pants and a jacket with the tags still on. The third one froze him where he stood.

Lace thongs. Silk bralettes. Two garter belts, black and red.

A sheer bodysuit sat under those. Pushed to the extreme back, behind the lace thongs, was a pink vibrator. It was longer than his hand.

Oh, Lila. At Gregory's table this girl wore sweaters to the chin, and skirts to the ankle. In here she kept an arsenal that had no business existing in the wardrobe of a girl who roleplayed the dutiful daughter.

Pan stood over the open drawer with his jaw tight. At home Lila dressed like a nun to stay clear of her father's scrutiny. Behind this door she was somebody else entirely. The contrast was almost offensive.

Years of watching her act pure in public while she and Christina tortured him in private made the discovery feel like another kind of mockery. They got to be whoever they wanted. He got to be the punching bag.

Pan's eyes settled on the vibrator and heat went through him without permission. His jeans grew uncomfortably tight.

Clink.

The shower's water was just shut off.

Oh, shit.

The bathroom door handle turned and it opened. Pan was fifteen feet away from the hall door. He had two seconds to act.

Pan dropped flat and slid under the bed on his stomach as Lila stepped out. His lungs burned before he had drawn a breath to hold.

I made it. From under the bed, all he could see was two wet feet and two calves on the rug, not very far from his face.

Lila's legs were long, tanned, and tight from yoga.

Above the calves there was a towel wrapped around her. Above that, he could see nothing at all.

Lila padded to the mirror, still humming, working at her wet hair with a hand cloth.

Any day now, Your Highness. Get dressed and leave.

A phone buzzed on the counter. Lila picked it up.

"Mia. No, I just got out of the shower."

"I'm wearing the backless one. I got permission from Dad last night—"

Lila began laughing to herself, and had to put a hand over her mouth.

"Oh, it is stupid. I just remembered that my adopted brother is getting whipped tonight. Daddy's cufflinks went missing, and guess who made it happen."

Pan's fist closed on the rug.

"Christina and I took them, obviously. I'm pretty sure he's never going to find them. He took the belt in April without a sound. What a loser."

There it is. The confession, in her real voice.

"Mia, he has been the family dog for eleven years. I make sure he is constantly reminded of his position on the floor."

Lila listened for a moment, then laughed again.

"You are coming tonight, aren't you? Pan will be serving the drinks. If he is walking stiff, you will know Dad taught him a proper lesson."

They think my injuries are funny.

Lila finished her call and went back to the mirror.

Pan was reminded of his own awkward situation. He had four square feet of space, a bed frame in his spine, and a will to live that was draining fast.

One wrong breath, one shift of weight, and life ended for him at the Osborne mansion.

Lila turned on her heel. The terry cloth rode up over the back of her thighs until she pulled it down flat.

"God, I look good. Muah!"

Come on, sis. This is not the time for vanity. Get dressed and get the hell out.

A buzz went through the floorboards under his hip. It was his own phone, in his pocket, face down against the wood.

Oh, fuck. How did I forget to switch it off? It's probably Gemina calling me for a chore. Not now!

Pan clamped a hand over the denim and crushed it into his thigh.

His heart stopped when he raised his gaze. Lila's wet feet pointed in the bed's direction. She crossed the rug and halted close to his face.

The call's buzzing died under his palm.

Lila picked up a pair of jeans and checked the pockets. "Where's my other phone?"

Pan counted his heartbeats and did not breathe.

"Ugh, I'll find it later. I have to meet Mia at the sorority house before college."

Then she went back to the glass.

Pan let out the breath he was holding. Thank you. Thank you.

His sister was finally going to dress and leave, by the look of it. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes.

Lila rolled her hips at the glass. Cloth rustled.

The towel slipped an inch. Then it dropped.

Plop.

The towel hit the rug in a white heap, and pooled around her legs.

Pan's heart almost jumped up his throat.

His sister was standing three feet away from his face, completely naked.