The rose garden at the Vexley estate was a place that usually felt like something out of a painting—sunlight spilling through the leaves, petals spilling their perfume into the air, and the quiet hum of bees drifting lazily from bloom to bloom. But all of that beauty felt miles away when Jason Asher's mouth crashed onto hers.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't welcome. His lips clung with a desperate, almost frantic claim, tasting faintly of salt and that sharp, expensive cologne that used to make her chest flutter. Now, it only made her stomach twist.
Eliana froze, too stunned to even breathe. Her arm—still sore and weak—throbbed under the sudden press of him, and something deep inside her tried to fold in on itself, whispering the old instinct to stay still, to submit.
