"How could such a pathetic man be my master?"
Natalia hung up the receiver, her expression turning mocking as she shook her head decisively.
The years she had spent with Edward returned to her all at once, and the longer she looked at them, the smaller he became.
Edward Steele could barely be counted as a man. He needed his own wife in another man's arms before he could even get hard. He had always dressed that weakness as taste, as trust, as some private arrangement between husband and wife.
'Pathetic.'
The thought did not come from hatred. She did not despise those years. She had needed them. A succubus needed a man who would open the door, sit aside, and let her feed. Edward had given her that freedom without even understanding what he was offering, and she had used it well. The house, the name, the quiet permission to take other men... she had loved that part of her life here.
What she had never given him was respect.
