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His slave 9

With a disdainful sniff, she released Amelia and swept past, leaving the younger woman shaking and nursing what would surely blossom into a lurid bruise along her jawline.

Tormented from all sides, with no allies or escape from the Rothchild estate. Truly, she had entered the serpent's den, surrounded by venomous predators eager to strike at any moment of perceived vulnerability.

During tea socials, Jasmine and Bianca derived cruel delight in loudly recounting lurid tales of their past romantic dalliances in excruciating detail. They smirked as Amelia's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassed discomfort.

"You really must loosen up around us, little wife," Jasmine purred with mocking condescension. "We're to be lifelong sisters, after all."

Whispers and pointed looks followed Amelia wherever she went. The maids and servants studiously averted their eyes after witnessing one too many instances of the new wife's mistreatment. Even Eleanor, the icy Rothchild wife, seemed to take perverse
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