Rodah's POV I sat on the edge of the huge bed in Martinez’s mansion, my hands shaking in my lap. The white wedding dress still clung to my body. If my sister, Abigail had not run away this morning, I would be back in my small room right now, painting her portrait like I promised. Instead, here I was — twenty-three years old, married to Martinez Rinaldi, a man everyone called the devil.The door opened with a soft click.Martinez stepped in. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and moved like a predator. His black shirt was open at the collar, showing smooth, tanned skin. His dark eyes locked on me immediately. My stomach tightened.He had never met either me or Abigail until I was handed over to him as his wife, hours ago. “You’re still in the dress,” he said, voice low and rough. “Take it off.”I stood up fast, heart pounding. “What? No.”He raised one eyebrow. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. “No?”“I told you on our way here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “This is
Última atualização : 2026-05-07 Ler mais