Ophelia woke to a stillness that was both a luxury and a curse. It was a Saturday, and for the first time since her college life began, there were no classes, no schedules, and no escape.
The mansion felt larger and more suffocating than ever, the silence echoing the emptiness of her day. She was mentally and emotionally exhausted, her mind replaying the previous night's encounter with Darren. His chilling words, the brush of his hand against her mouth, and the almost-kiss were a tormenting loop.
She hated that he had gotten under her skin, that he had reduced her to a trembling mess. She had wanted to be free, and instead she'd been given a man who could undo her with a whisper. She was trapped in the twisted reality he had created for her.
