Annabelle could still hear his words buzzing in her ears like a swarm of angry bees.
"From now on, you live with me. In my room. As my mistress."
She stood frozen, convinced her ears were playing tricks on her. Had she heard that right?
"Excuse me?" Her voice was sharp with disbelief.
Richard didn't blink. "You heard me. You're my mistress now. That's your new role."
His unflinching stare pinned her in place, like a lion eyeing its prey. He was waiting for the reaction he already knew was coming. And there it was. Fear flickered across her face—but only for a moment. It morphed into something far more dangerous.
Rage.
Her nostrils flared. Her fists clenched. Her face flushed a furious red.
'This egotistical bastard. Who the hell does he think he is?'
"Absolutely not," she snapped,
