Resisting the Mistress
"Sorry, Ma'am, but I won't do what you tell me—"
She slapped me hard, and the crowd gasped in shock. It took only a second before I felt the pain. Someone grabbed my arm away from the public, and tears sprang to my eyes again as I recognized the guy. He was one of the late president's nephews, Lester Agrezor.
We stopped under the big Narra tree, and he squeezed my shoulders. "Look at me, Amity," he said in a husky voice.
I blinked before looking up at his face. He had an attractive height, probably 5 or 6 inches taller than me. His eyes clouded with worry, staring into mine.
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