I puked right on Nehemiah's chest. A frown etched itself onto his face. I squeezed my eyes shut, faking a blackout. He stayed silent, his breathing and steps remaining terrifyingly steady as he walked. I didn't dare move—I didn't even dare to exhale—fearing he’d unleash his anger the moment I showed a sign of life. Even as the bile began to dry, tacky and cold against my skin, I endured it. I felt a shift in his stride as he began climbing stairs. After a few minutes, he lowered me into the hard, cold basin of a bathtub. "I know you're conscious, Princesa," he whispered. His breath fanned against my neck, a reminder of exactly how close he was. "Wash yourself. Unless, of course, you want me to do it for you." My eyes shot open. My cheeks burned with a sudden, frantic heat. He smirked in satisfaction, tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, and stood up. "I'll get you something to wear." The moment he disappeared, I scrambled out of the tub and bolted for the door, twisting th
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