Cherilyn Knight's Point Of View.
The soft drumming of raindrops against the windowsill woke me from my deep, dreamless sleep. It took me a moment to realize I had fallen asleep in the Don's bed, and the dryness in my throat was unbearable — probably from all the screaming and crying. I desperately craved water, but the thought of moving seemed impossible. My entire body felt numb, worn out, and a lone tear slid down my cheek as I slowly began to accept what I had been dreading all along: this was my life now — abused, broken, and at his mercy.
I was still naked from the waist down, and though I could not move much, I tried to look around for my underwear, but there was no sign of it. The room was empty. He was not here. I considered leaving while I had the chance, but then his words echo
