Chapter 31 – Love in Chains
(Beverley’s POV)
The Devlin mansion was a palace carved out of ice.
Marble stretched endlessly, chandeliers glittered like frozen stars, and portraits of dead Devlins glared from the walls as though warning me I didn’t belong. The staff moved like shadows, silent and obedient, bowing without ever looking me in the eye.
It wasn’t a home.
It was a prison dressed in gold.
The first morning I sat at the long dining table, I could barely force myself to breathe. The food looked beautiful—eggs, fresh bread, fruit cut into precise little cubes—but I couldn’t eat. Not with him sitting at the far end, sipping his coffee like a king surveying his domain.
“You’ll starve if you keep stabbing that melon without eating it,” he said lazily, not even glancing up.
“Bette
