Katrina’s POV
I woke with fire under my skin.
Every nerve in my body throbbed with a memory I didn’t want to carry—his hand, his voice, the sharp sting that blurred into something I couldn’t name. My wrists ached where the restraints had bitten into them, my thighs were tender, and yet it wasn’t just my body that felt raw.
It was me.
The girl who swore she’d never bow. The girl who believed she’d rather burn than bend. She was cracking, splintering under his touch.
The sheets smelled of him. Sharp, clean, like cedarwood and smoke. His scent wrapped around me even in his absence, a reminder that I wasn’t free. No—I was exactly where he wanted me.
A golden cage. A velvet prison. And I had no way out.
The penthouse was quiet when I pulled myself out of bed, wrapping the silk sheet arou
