Rita Marvin didn't just ask me to his bed… right?For a moment, I honestly thought I misheard him, because from where I stood, breath hitched, brows drawn together in stunned confusion, nothing about this felt real. My eyes slowly lifted to meet his, searching for some kind of contradiction, some sign that I had gotten it wrong. But there was none. His gaze was firm, unyielding, unrelenting, like stone carved with a single purpose.“I said, to the bed,” he repeated, sharper this time. “And don’t make me repeat myself.”His tone came out edged, cutting, yet beneath that cold authority, there was something else. Something faint, almost unnoticeable… a softness that didn’t quite belong.I sucked in shaky breath, the air trembling in my lungs, before turning toward the bed, which stretched before me like something out of a dream.A massive mattress draped in a thick, light-colored duvet that looked both inviting and intimidating at once. It was far too large, easily big enough to hold se
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