“You sent that picture to me on purpose,” Dominic says. “Did you think I wouldn’t look?”
I sent my boss a photo meant for someone else. By morning, the whole company had seen it. My best friend stood beside my ex and called me a liar. Dominic Castellan kept me near, but he looked at me like I was playing a game.
He made it clear he was in charge. His mother and the woman he should marry called me trash. He said I was his, then refused to say why. I told myself I hated him, and my body kept proving me wrong.
One cold night, I stopped pretending. That should have been the end. Instead, he wanted more, and I wanted to be chosen, not owned.
Can I clear my name without losing the only man who ever made me feel wanted?
