LILY-ROSE'S POV
Sinbad's grip was like an iron shackle around my wrist. He didn't just lead me; he dragged me. We passed through cold stone hallways that felt like they belonged to another century until we reached the top floor. My head was spinning. I was a mother of four and a former high-powered attorney, yet here I was, let's be real, acting like a total slut for a man who looked like he could kill me without blinking.
We reached a heavy oak door at the end of the private hallway. He didn't knock; he just kicked it open.
The room was massive, dim, and smelled of expensive tobacco and raw power. A fireplace roared in the corner, but the real light came from a 70-inch TV. I froze when I saw what was playing.
It was the video of me on my bed with my knees up, screaming my husband's na
