KESTER.
Power was a fragile thing. Give someone a taste of it, and they'd start believing they had a right to wield it however they pleased.
That was the mistake Sylvia had made.
Kasmine was mine.
Mine to scold. Mine to break. Mine to put back together again. No one—no f*****g one—had the right to lay a hand on her. Not in punishment. Not in humiliation. Not in any damn way.
When Claire came strutting into my office, wearing that self-satisfied smirk she always did when she thought she had something I'd want to hear, I almost dismissed her. Almost.
I barely heard most of what she said beyond 'Sylvia and Kasmine and humiliation in front of everyone.'
And just like that, the room around me ceased to exist.
A slow, cold rage settled inside me, and for the first time ever, I felt like
