PREVIEW

... m.

Her hand remained clenched at her side—tightly, violently—until her knuckles turned white beneath the satin of her glove. The pain in her shoulder pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, but it wasn't the ache that consumed her.

It was the helplessness.

The indignity of being touched—branded—by someone who wore cruelty like a crown and called it authority.

She couldn't strike him.

She couldn't speak against him.

Not here.

Not yet.

H ...

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