He Let His Mistress Strip Me

ena

room, and a dark decree hung in the a

ingle knuckle. The light that glinted from it flashed across the faces of several men at a

their plates, a feigned stu

s the acting Boss of Chi

rmur about Grant's blatant favor for his mistress,

d held together with threa

d lunged, my hand catchin

ated this entire spectacle of public

tore his arm from my grasp and th

, wet crack in the de

and a pain like a swarm of ho

blic was a grave taboo in our world,

longer care

apology that he had done all

c tang of my own bloo

arriage, acid-etched and unw

, and the late nights I had

his syndicate for

weight of my name. I had chosen Grant Caldwell-a hungry soldier with fire in his eyes-and given him three years to prove himself worthy of the t

, linen napkin. He wiped the hand that had struck

stepping my station,

fall into a pudd

urant manager and issued a

d of my clothes and thrown onto the cobbl

a chorus of jeers, a

lty, their bodies leaning forward in

of the room showed a row of yellowed te

ed across his lips as his gaze c

th like ash and bile, and reache

een was

wapped it t

o idea that the only lifeline I needed was the one I had been holding in silence for three y