Elena’s POV

My wrist ached from his grip, the imprint of his fingers still burning into my skin. I could still hear the retreating footsteps of that couple, their whispers carrying away the secret he had nearly exposed.

I straightened, forcing my breath even. “No,” I said finally, my voice sharp and even like it usually was. “I’m not your prisoner.”

His eyes narrowed, dangerous and unyielding, but before he could speak, I forced the words out like a blade. “You want me ...