Bethany felt the piercing stares of everyone in the room, their judgment crawling under her skin. Were their glares meant for her—or Chantel?

“I…” she began, her voice faltering. She wanted to refuse Chantel's demand, to reclaim her dignity, but the sight of Jason shattered her resolve.

He was her weakness. One look at him could make her abandon all sense of reason.

 Her fingers trembled as she fidgeted with her dress, hoping—praying—that Fred would change his mind and spare her this humiliation.

But before she could kneel, a voice boomed from the doorway.

“She’s not kneeling to anyone!” The furious tone cut through the tension like a knife.

Heads...