It was deep into the night, and Aria’s tears wouldn’t stop. His arm, a heavy band of possession, still rested across her waist. She carefully and painstakingly peeled it away, the movement a silent, desperate prayer for freedom. Her legs, unsteady and aching, threatened to give way with every step. A raw, searing pain bloomed between her thighs, making the short journey from the bed to the balcony an agonizing ordeal. Each wobble was a fresh wave of violation, a physical manifestation of the betrayal that choked her.
The glass door slid open with a soft sigh, revealing the vast, indifferent night. Cold air rushed in, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the room, yet she felt nothing but the gnawing ache in her soul. Tears streamed down her face, icy paths on her skin, but the cold
