I AM YOURS TO PLAY
she said, her voice hollow, her body stepping back, the door swinging open, the apartment’s mildew stench hitting me.
I crossed the threshold, my heels clicking, my smirk breaking through, a wicked curve of victory as I stepped into their dim living room, the furniture sagging, the walls stained. I sat on the couch, its springs creaking, my hands folding the divorce papers, my heart pounding with the thrill of control.
Bab Populer