Sloane
The sight hit me like a punch to the heart.
Their hands—Hunter’s on the curve of one woman’s hip, Logan’s fingers splayed possessively across another’s waist, Dean’s arm slung low around a third—looked far too comfortable. The women were gorgeous. They had sleek hair and designer dresses. They laughed at something Logan said, one of them tilting her head back. The triplets looked every bit the powerful, untouchable men they were.
My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might be sick right there.
“They gave me freedom,” I reminded myself, but the words felt bitter on my tongue. “I asked for it. I fought for space outside the contract, outside their control. This is what I wanted.“
But seeing them like this—touching other women the way they’d touched me—made something feral wake
