Chapter 1
My heart felt as if it were being violently squeezed, and I trembled with fury.
Dominic Kessler merely raised an eyebrow, letting out a casual, sharp intake of breath. "Satisfied now?" he murmured, leaning closer. "What's wrong? Does the anger actually make it feel better?"
I swung my hand to slap him, but he dodged with a quick tilt of his head, pinning my wrists down. His fingertips traced the pulse point on my wrist in a lingering, suggestive caress. "You're really going to hit me? I was just trying to be honest with you. You're the one who said love and marriage require total transparency."
My eyes stung, and my voice cracked as I choked out, "You're shameless!"
His expression darkened, a murky shadow swirling in his eyes. "Shameless? Who are you to lecture me on that, Evelyn Marsh? You were the one who couldn't wait to give yourself to me in a bathroom stall when you were eighteen."
I stared at him, stunned. Just last night, he had held me in his arms, whispering softly about our future. I took a deep, shaky breath and pushed myself off him, leaning against the edge of the bed. My movement was too frantic; my knee struck the nightstand, leaving a dark bruise. The ceramic lamp on top wobbled and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. We had made that lamp together at a pottery studio for our wedding, claiming it symbolized our relationship—unique and unbreakable.
The door flew open. Celeste Vance, my best friend who had been staying with us to help with the wedding preparations, rushed in, her hair disheveled as if she'd just woken up.
"Evelyn, what's going on? Is Dominic bullying you again? Don't be afraid, I'll tell him off for you." She turned toward him, her voice rising in pitch, "Dominic! Evelyn is my only friend. As long as I'm here, you are not going to bully her."
Dominic leaned against the headboard, watching Celeste with a flicker of indulgence in his eyes. I stood there, dazed, as a flood of memories surged through my mind: Celeste holding my hand under the old locust tree at St. Agatha's Home, swearing we were each other's only family; her always sharing her portion of snacks from Matron with me whenever I looked malnourished; her being the first to rush forward and shield me whenever someone tried to bully me.
A chill crept over my skin, pulling me back to reality. I realized I was completely naked. Celeste noticed too and reached out to me. "Evelyn, let me help you put on—"
"Don't touch me!" I shrieked, a sharp, acidic pain roiling in my stomach.
Her hand froze in mid-air, her face etched with hurt. My gaze swept past her and landed back on Dominic. The quilt had slipped to his waist, revealing his lean, muscular torso and the faint red mark on his collarbone. Celeste followed my gaze, froze for a split second, then quickly averted her eyes, her ears turning bright red.
Dominic chuckled, sounding thoroughly satisfied. "Why look away? You haven't seen this before?" He paused, gesturing to the red mark on his neck. "This one—I thrust too hard, and you sucked it right there. Don't you remember?"
The air in the room felt as if it had been sucked dry, and it felt like a knife scraping against my throat. Celeste whipped her head back, her expression one of utter disbelief. "What are you talking about? That's not true. Evelyn, don't listen to him!"
