Chapter 52.
The air in the secluded alcove was stagnant, a sharp contrast to the swirling, melodic energy of the ballroom just a few feet away. Behind the thick, heavy velvet curtains that smelled of dust and old wood, the muffled sounds of the orchestra- the rhythmic thrum of the bass and the soaring cry of the violins, felt like the heartbeat of a world Briar no longer recognized. Her own heart was a frantic, irregular drum against her ribs, the rhythm still dictated by Victor’s heavy, confident stride. She could still feel the phantom heat of his thumb tracing the curve of her spine, a mark of ownership that felt more permanent, more binding, than any legal document tucked beneath a mattress. She stood there for a heartbeat, her hands trembling as she tried to smooth the liquid gold silk over he
- Writer
