My Alpha's Wild Obsession
The water was cold, the soap was harsh, and the clatter of plates and pots filled the air, a dull, repetitive sound.
I reached for a greasy pot, my hands aching, my fingers stiff, still trembling. The smell of stale food and dishwater filled my nose, mixing with the lingering scent of blood and shame, a sickening combination. Every time I moved, a fresh wave of pain shot through my body. My arms felt heavy, my back ached, and the wound between my legs throbbed relentlessly.
Bab Populer