Elisabeth's POV
The words sliced through me like shards of glass, but I kept my expression stone cold. Andy's fingers wrapped around mine with crushing force, his grip unforgiving as he dragged me into the opening movements of our dance. His touch burned against my skin, a toxic combination of dominance and barely restrained violence that made my stomach churn. I despised how easily he commanded my body, as if years hadn't passed since he'd lost any claim to me.
The orchestra's melody drifted through the ballroom, a haunting waltz that perfectly matched the suffocating atmosphere surrounding us. Each step felt like walking through quicksand, every movement a calculated strike in whatever sick game he was orchestrating. My pulse hammered against my ribcage, not from exertion but from the white-hot fury building in my chest.
"I have nothing to say to you," I snarled between gritted teeth, jerking my hand against his iron grip.
