The envelope was thick, pristine, and utterly infuriating.
It sat on my nightstand like a ticking bomb, its contents sealed behind elegant black wax.
I already knew what was inside.
The terms. The conditions. The invisible chains Dario was locking around my future.
And yet, when I finally tore it open, the weight of reality still hit me like a freight train.
I skimmed through the neatly typed words, my irritation growing with each line.
Then, I reached his conditions.
Condition One: Dario Moretti will personally drive Isla Hart to and from school every day.
I blinked. Then blinked again.
Was this man insane?
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, flipping to the next page, hoping—praying—that I had read it wrong.
Condition Two: She is not to leave campus during school hours
