NADIA.
God forbid that I'd ever sign a contract that binds my soul to the devil.
No matter the price.
No matter the threat.
No matter the way Jeremy Kellason had looked at me like refusing him was not rebellion, but a delay he had already accounted for while waiting for me to drop to my knees.
I flagged down the first taxi I could find the second I cleared the building, and folded myself into the back seat like something hunted. My hands wouldn't stop. My whole body shook — no. All of me — like I'd swallowed thunder, and it was looking for a way back out.
'You did the right thing...' I told myself. 'You didn't sign. You walked out. You refused him.'
So why did refusing feel just like running deeper into his trap?
I felt like I had escaped a burning house only to remember my mother
