“I wonder where that dick is going,” I said to myself as Sullivan disappeared into the bustling mid-day crowd.

"Are you going to get out of the car now?" the maid—whom I’d come to know as Rosa-fucking-lina—snorted from the pavement.

"To do what?" I fired back, fed up with her bossy, commanding tone.

She was the one who had forced me into this floor-length satin gown, packing my hair into a ponytail with bangs that framed my forehead like some high-society doll.

"I guess you prefer being trapped inside, then," Rosalina said, making a show of shutting the door.

"If you want me out so bad..." I breathed out, stopping...