She’s a virgin. The more I get to know Layla, the harder I fall for her. She couldn’t get any more perfect. She’s mine and no one else’s. She will be willing to learn with no preconceived notions. My fingers tighten possessively around hers.

"You own all of this?" Layla asks, looking around. I’ve never given much notice to the gardens, but Layla makes me see the vast space differently.

"Yes." Privileged. That’s what I would have said when I stood on the ...