Don Valentinos Farfalla And Heiress
My nostrils begin to sting with the potent smell of antiseptic with undertones of artificial fragrances like soap and… cleaning products.
Groaning, I lift my hand to wipe the tip of my nose that burns from breathing and I feel something sharp stabbing my arm, restricting my movements.
What the…oh, fuck… my head.
Why is it pounding, and why are my ears fucking ringing?
“Miss Bishop, can you please open your eyes?” An unfamiliar voice reaches me through the darkness that continues to cling to me.
Clenching my jaw, I sigh and slowly begin to peel back my eyelash curtains to unveil my throbbing eyes. Squinting, I try to open them wider, fighting against the bright white light that hangs over me,
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