Chapter 5

The tiny camera trembled in my grip, its cold metal digging into my palm as I stared at it, making my breath come in sharp, uneven gasps.

Weeks.

He had been watching me for weeks, every whispered moan, every desperate touch, every moment I thought was private, sacred. My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat as the weight of it crashed over me.

The violation wasn't just in the act of being recorded; it was in the knowledge of it, the way it made my skin prickle with the ...