rey

e, a dark figure silhouetted against the ambient glow of the living room, his arms crossed, his expression un

, Aubrey?" His voice

my head. The rain caught me off guard, and I ended up... at a friend's place. Drying off

r. I knew, with a chilling certainty, that he didn't believe a word I said.

es sweeping over my still-damp clothes with

suddenly feeling like a sanctuary. I leaned over the porcelain sink and gagged, the taste of cheap champagne and lingering shame rising in my throat.

as already in bed, propped up against the pillows, scrolling through his table

of my body, a silent, internal measurement. My waist, my hips, my thighs. He had a strict regimen, a precise set of numbers he expected me to maintain. The memory of the last time

" His voice sliced

ectful distance away. He patted the space beside him. I hesitated for a frac

know, I was thinking," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Perhaps your a

e control, for the utter contempt he held for me. I knew the drill. It would be an extra thousand, maybe two, for a month or tw

s flat. "No

"Are you still angry about this morning? Be

I stated, the lie

n shot up my arm. "You're upset. I can tell. But you need to understand, a wif

my robe. The silk ripped, the sound shockingly lo

." His words were a low growl, echoing the many times he had asserted his ownership over my body. My pleas were swallowed by his hand, my

than any physical pain. It was a cruel reminder that I was just a stand-in, a placeholder until his true desire returned. He had chosen me, marr

t the room without a backward glance. I was used to it. The vast, cold bed, the empty side where he should have been, was a

n, with a newfound resolve, I slowly got up. I walked to my bedside table, pull

neat, determined h

Fund: $

d: Freedom. Dign

rdening. And for the first time in a very