I look at myself in the mirror and see a woman who seemingly has it all—or so they think. A mansion, jewels, a picture-perfect family... and a husband who hasn’t truly looked at me in years. Mortimer is here, but he’s not with me. His obsession with his books and experiments consumes him, while I waste away in silence, craving something more.

I remember when his gaze used to ignite me, when he made me feel wanted. Now his touch is cold, distant… almost nonexistent. And I… I am a woman of flesh and blood, with fire in my veins. I need more. I deserve more.

Sometimes, I slip out alone at night, losing myself in bars where no one knows who I am. I draw closer to men who look at me the way Mortimer no longer does. Is it wrong to want to feel alive? To want more than this lifeless marriage gives me? Sometimes I dream about them... all of them. Different faces, different hands, different desires. I imagine myself consumed by passion, whispered words in my ear, touches that make me forget who I am, what I’m supposed to be.

I want to experience everything. I want to feel desired by more than one man, even all at once. I want to be the woman the world doesn’t expect me to be. A woman who takes what she wants without guilt, without regret.

Maybe it’s wrong. Maybe the problem is me. But every day I spend in this mansion, playing the role of "Mrs. Goth," I feel like I’m losing pieces of myself. And I’m tired of pretending, tired of smiling to keep up appearances.

I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. But one thing I do know for certain: Bella Goth was not born for monotony. I was born to be desired, to be worshipped… to make men, many men, lose themselves in me. Because I deserve so much more than what I have now. And this time, I won’t ask for permission to take it.....

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