Grace
“Go back home, quit your job, and next week you and Charles are to get married.”
I stared at the cold-blooded man sitting across the room like a king dictating the fate of someone beneath him. He wasn’t yelling, but his words carried the weight of authority, and power, of a man so used to being obeyed that he forgot people were not objects he could shift at will.
I thought of a thousand things to say. A thousand ways to scream no, but nothing came out.
My throat felt tight. My tongue wouldn't move. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape my chest.
Go back home? To my manipulative parents?
Quit my job? The one I worked so damn hard for?
Marry Charles? A man who didn’t even like women?
It wasn’t just a demand. It was a death sentence to my freedom, my career,
