Yaroslava's POV
Returning to reality felt very much like that I have experienced before — a metallic taste in my mouth, dizziness, and nausea.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a small room with only the wooden double bed, on which I was lying. The room was brightly lit by the sunlight streaming in through the huge panoramic window. So it's not a yacht, for which I was truly grateful. I'm still wearing the same dress I got married in. That's a relief, too.
But what am I talking about? What good is it if the situation looks like I've been stolen from again?
Where the hell have I come to this time?
