GRAYSON

The defiance in her voice, the audacity to say no to me, ignited a fire I hadn’t felt in years. My hands stilled on the last button of my shirt, the fabric half-open, exposing the tattoos inked across my chest. Her refusal wasn’t just a word; it was a challenge—a direct affront to the control I held over her over everything. My jaw tightened as I watched her, her shoulders squared, her eyes locked onto mine with a mixture of fear and rebellion.

She didn’t flinch, not even when the air between us crackled with the tension of unspoken threats. I could see her trembling, but she stood her...