Harlow
With the wash basin on the ground, I carefully slipped Stephanie's feet in it, feeling the sickening urge to scrap her knee with some sharp object. Strangely, I wanted to see her bleed for getting everything so easily—the man fated to me and a chance to be with him. Even if Devon had marked me, she still got him within her grasp without raising a single finger.
Reaching for a soft brush, I placed it in the water and began to scrub her feet, cussing below my breath and wishing she'd just ask me to leave.
“There's a story about a slave my mother once told me, and I think you should hear it.” Her sharp voice rang out, reminding me once again that her heart was still beating. Rather than giving her a response, I focused on her feet, scrubbing it with so much concentration, I could e
