Chloe’s POV
Three days of enforced silence felt like a geological era. My life had shattered, been temporarily reformed in a burst of forbidden heat, and was now placed on a high shelf, waiting for Drake Humphrey’s permission to move again.
I was drowning in his rules. Every minute felt governed by his absence. I kept the black dress I’d worn to his office crumpled in a ball beneath my pillow, inhaling the faint, masculine scent of his expensive cologne mixed with my own climax, a brutal souvenir of his control. I was a puppet whose strings had been abruptly severed, and the inertia was maddening.
I checked my personal phone every fifteen minutes, despite knowing he had blocked the anonymous number I used. The phone screen was a constant source of anxiety and disappointment. I was caugh
