~ Camilla

The sun wasn’t just bright; it was a judgmental bastard, spotlighting every dust mote dancing in the air and every single mistake I’d made last night. 9:00 AM. The other side of the bed was cold and untouched. Of course it was. Stephano didn’t linger. He conquered, he came, he left for his billion-dollar day, leaving me here in the wreckage. I tried to sit up, and my body screamed in a chorus of protests. A sharp ache in my lower back, a deep, throbbing soreness between my legs, and a specific, tender bruise on my hip from where he’d held me down against the living room couch....