The Queen He Created: Sin of Being Beautiful

sense, Lila tasted the metallic flavour of fear on her lip, heard the muted whispers of faceless women and m

om of worn wallpaper and peeling paint where her uncle kept her until now, nor was she still protected by worn walls cracked with years of disuse, but that she was there,

just hours before, his voice gruff and unfeeling, dripping disdain and mockery as he sneered about finally being rid of her, about men who were waiting for her appreciating what he'd never seen, his voice cruelly laughing, his amusement ringing inside of her head even now, haunting her as vividly as his kiss never had. She'd said nothing, not from weakness, but from quiet defiance, he

o them, showing them that she was not here to beg, not to break under their ravenous glances. Her uncle's voice cut clear above them, oily, self-satisfed, parading her like exotic art or fine livestock, cataloging her as nothing more than flesh and bone, untouched, unspoiled, obedient; his words turned her gut to lurching whorls of pain, but she could not look aside, could not let her face betray the humiliation he wished to enac

, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as the offers climbed higher, each voice a potential nightmare, each

d controlled, effortlessly silencing every other bidder in the room with a simple rais

nse, breathless anticipation in its wake. Lila's pulse quickened further, though she fought to keep her breathing steady, fought to remain motionless, composed, her thoughts racing wildly behind th

st the harsh glare. When her vision cleared, the room revealed itself in terrifying grandeur-a vast ballroom draped in heavy velvet curtains, lit by dozens of glittering chandeliers, filled with men and women in masks, th

ner strength, her secret defiance, measuring her in terms no one else dared to even think of using. His presence weighed upon her like a physical force, heavy, compelling, exuding quiet, merciless power, command

ently, close enough that she could sense his warmth, smell the subtle scent of leather and cedarwood that clung to his skin, and though instinct urged her to step back, she held her ground stubbornly, chin raised in silent challenge. "Your name," he finally spoke, voice

turned away, moving toward the exit, clearly expecting her to follow. She hesitated for only the briefest heartbeat before stepping after him, the murmur of the cr

strangely comforted by it, felt a stillness about them that transcended words, a sense of understanding that she was not just

whatever lay ahead of her next. She slipped soundlessly into the idling vehicle, seating herself beside him without hesitation, heart pounding furiously yet in check, breathing evenly, conscio

efiance tempered by quiet curiosity, by cautious anticipation, aware now that the most dangerous battle had only just begun, aware that Vik

re, she was certain of one thing: she was no longer simply a girl to be sold, no longer