Azalea

“Not yet,” she replied, helping me stand up. “He’s waiting for you in the dining room.”

My stomach twisted. More time with him meant more chances for him to hurt me with his words.

“Waiting for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mica said. “We should go.”

Mica led me through the house. The servants we passed smiled and said I looked pretty, but their words felt hollow after what Adriano had said.

“We’re here,” Mica announced, stopping ...