6
Dante
I waited until after midnight.
Arianna had fallen asleep in the sunroom after dinner, her head curled against the cushions. I’d watched her through the window for nearly ten minutes before walking away, because the ache to hold her had gotten too sharp. Too real.
This was the part where I should’ve let her go. Not physically, she belonged to me now. But emotionally. Spiritually. If I had any shred of self-preservation, I would’ve kept her in the role I created for her: a transaction. A possession. Something beautiful and obedient to f**k, protect, and display.
But she kept looking at me like I was the only thing that made her feel safe. And worse, I liked it.
I stood in front of the box for nearly an hour. Custom leather, hand-stitched, with black velvet lining. A collar rest
