GUILTY DEVOTION
Genevieve stood there, one hand on the doorframe, chewing gum loudly, sunglasses still shielding her eyes even though it was late at night.
“Nicholas,” she said, her voice casual. “We need to talk about my property.”
He slowly approached the door where she stood, his calmness still sitting on his face. “Property? You mean the house?”
She pushed off from the frame, sashaying forward. “You forgot so fast? You are still mine. You are my property.”
He watched her, eyes narrowing. “Did you drink again? Or are you still caught in your delusion?”
She stepped closer; his house smelled of cedarwood and fresh air. “You forgot, clearly and so did whoever thought they could replace me.”
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