AVELA’S POV
I stood in front of my closet feeling like I was about to go to war.
My fingers kept touching my neck, and every time they did, pain shot through me. The bruises were worse now, dark purple, shaped exactly like Cameron’s fingers. Ugly. Violent. Real.
Lucas could never see this.
Not tonight. Not when he was already forced to go to his dad’s birthday party. He hated those family things. The last thing he needed was more drama because of me.
I pushed hangers left and right, searching for something, anything, that would hide my neck completely.
Finally, tucked in the back, I found it: a sleeveless, blue turtleneck dress. It was elegant, but still sexy. Perfect cover.
I slipped it on. The fabric rubbed against the bruises and I hissed. It hurt like hell, but I co
