Chapter 90

Brielle shook her head, tears cascading down her cheeks with increased fervor. In the hours that followed, it seemed he tortured her on purpose.

“Have you done this position with him?”

“Could he make you cry like this?”

“If we’re comparing, we should do it position by position. Did you do it in the bathroom too?”

Brielle felt like she was losing her mind, torn between humiliation and the primal stirrings within her body. She never should have taunted a man in bed.

“Uncle Max, I’m so sorry.”

Her cheeks were slick with sweat as she pitifully clutched at his sleeve.

the bed, but his shirt remained on–though it was

from their encounter.

how he was in bed, a stark contrast to The Priest. When he interrogated someone, his

dazzlingly colorful poison butterfly, an entangling siren, a being one should rightly fear and revere, yet irresistibly fall into

regretted her actions so deeply it hurt, and after many sweet nothings and tears, she finally managed

man to

“Is that all you’ve got?” His voice was raspy with a hint of post–passion, echoing close to

just a few words he could make one long to live

apartment was filled

the fight, he was sentenced, and the so–called trade secrets? Andrew had said he wouldn’t pursue it, so naturally, the police wouldn’t

walked out behind Andrew, her face beaming with relief. “Andrew, don’t worry, I’ll definitely put in a good word for

knew how much Andrew cared for Tessa–whatever Tessa

to Brielle. “Get in touch with Emily from the Hatfield family. I want

and he had to do

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