FORBIDDEN AFFAIR WITH THE BIKER I CAN'T HAVE
“Smile for me.”
I looked at him, confused.
“Smile,” he repeated. “A genuine, happy smile. Like you’re pleased to be here.”
My stomach turned.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t smile at this monster who’d bought me like property, who kept women as dolls, who was systematically breaking me down.
“Smile, Elara.”
I tried. I forced my lips to turn up at the corners, but it felt grotesque. Wrong. And it definitely wasn’t convincing.