The next morning, Chloe opened her eyes. Accustomed to the dim darkness in the morning, she reached for her phone to check the time. It was eleven o'clock, and her empty stomach was staging a rebellion. She wanted to get out of bed, but with the slightest movement

Sebastian didn't mind Chloe's cold reception. He went upstairs on his own, changing into clothing and glasses that were starkly different from those of that other man before coming back down.

No one was surprised that Alexander had returned so early today. The kitch

Chloe felt like a sheep skinned of its fur and tied to a rack, turned and roasted over an open fire. Every inch of the gaze sweeping over her burned with a greedy desire to chew her down to the very bone—a direct, disgusting intensity that m