MALCOLM — POV
I had always prided myself on my restraint and control. It was something I had honed over the years—carefully cultivated through brutal discipline and relentless precision. I had immense experience when it came to handling people, especially women. I knew how to make them feel wanted, understood, even cherished, all while keeping my heart locked behind iron bars. But when it came to her… all those years of experience went flying out the window.
I first saw her at a debutante ball. She wasn’t the one being celebrated—no, she was simply there to support her older sister, who was making her grand entrance into society. While the entire room buzzed over the elegance and poise of the beautiful, condescending older sister, my gaze landed elsewhere. On her.
She was like a breath
