*Avina*The water was scalding, exactly how I needed it. I stood under the showerhead, my forehead pressed against the cold, white marble tile. The steam rose in thick, suffocating clouds, blurring the edges of the high-end bathroom until the world felt small and manageable. I didn't turn the temperature down, even as the heat bit into the raw, red welts on my wrists and sent a stinging fire through the bruises blooming across my ribs. I needed to feel the sting. I needed it to drown out the phantom sensation of the cold, damp basement and the smell of rusted iron. Ronan had wanted me to go to his estate. He had been a low, rumbling force of nature in that office, his eyes never leaving mine as he insisted I wasn't safe. But I had refused. I had looked him in the eye, the very man I had just proposed a contract marriage to, and told him no. But truth was I needed to be here, in my penthouse. I needed a space that didn't smell like him, a space that wasn't a fortress built by a man
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