C166 Burn, Don’t Bow.

The car stopped, cameras flashing from all angles, their lenses like hungry eyes trying to pierce the tinted glass.

I adjusted the slit of my dress, trembling more from rage than from concern for my appearance. My jaw tightened, teeth gritted. I hadn’t forgiven him. Not even close.

Back in the penthouse, I had nearly ripped that burgundy suit off his body and set it on fire