Azalea
His threat cut through me like a knife, making my blood freeze. I couldn’t speak, overwhelmed by the pounding of my own heart.
My sister. My precious, innocent sister. The only family I had left. The only reason I took this terrible job.
The mere thought of his vile hands touching her, hurting her—my mind recoiled from the horror of it.
“No,” I whispered, all my fight disappearing at once. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just leave her alone. Don’t kill her.”
His smile grew wider, showing he had won. He’d discovered the perfect shackle for my soul. He had found my weakest point, so what was the point of my protesting?
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, touching my bruised cheek gently. His touch made my skin crawl. “Now you understand how this works. I own you, bambola (doll)
