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The slave of hope
Laya POV
"I'm not wearing that thing, so you might as well leave."
I spat the words at the timid-looking young girl standing before me a little too harshly, yet at that very moment, I didn't care less about hurting someone's feelings. This whole perplexed situation had spun right out of control, from the moment Demetrius captured us to right here and now.
Did he actually think that I would marry him in that dress, that I would just go with whatever sadistic fuckery he has planned for tonight?
I would rather die a thousand deaths than let him touch me in that way, ever.
"Please Miss Laya, she'll kill me if you don't allow me to clothe you in this dress..."
My eyes narrowed at her words, the mere fact that that horrific woman would kill someone all because I refused to put on a dress, is all the proof I need that she is far too sick and twisted to be related to Groban, or Groban's mother for that matter.
Smir
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