From the second floor of the backyard, there came a chorus of agonized cries from women. Eliana felt as if she were falling apart, her complexion as pale as a sheet of paper. She squinted at the man standing indifferently nearby.

Whether it was love or hate, he had already taken what he wanted and was now ready to leave, sparing only a few words. He treated her as though she were just a whore.

"Why? Why do this to me?" Eliana weakly reached out and tugged at his clothes, her voice trembling with accusation.

At the very least, the last time Dylan had shielded her from that searing hot...