Azalea
“Starting today, you belong to me,” he said. His voice felt cold and distant, even though he stood so close I could feel his breath. My heart pounded with terror. “Remember my name. I am Adriano Rion Giordani. I’m your husband now. And I’m also your master.”
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I will remember.”
“Why are you still on the floor?” he asked sharply.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs shaking. Adriano grabbed my hand roughly, his fingers digging into my skin.
“It hurts!” I cried out, tears stinging my eyes. “Please, you’re hurting me!”
“Where does it hurt?” His voice suddenly turned gentle and calm. I stared at him in shock. Was this the same man who had just killed his girlfriend? How could he sound so caring now?
“Here,” I said, showing him my wounded han
