RAVEN’S POV
After Dante leaves, I begin to pace around the room.
For someone who hates their bare feet on the floor after a bath or shower, I barely notice.
I am too distracted, trying to calm my mind from the storm brewing inside my chest. I am so tired. I am tired of the crying, tired of being protected by a man who clearly wants the worst for me.
I look around the room. It’s a beautiful, expensive, gilded cage. Everything in here was bought with his money, chosen to fit his aesthetic, to frame me as the perfect wife.
My eyes land on my rosary sitting on the bedside table. I grab it, allowing the coolness of the beads to sit in my palms. Then I press it against my chest. I close my eyes, trying to find that peace it usually gives in times of trouble, but there is no peace to be foun
