JASMINE
The drive back from the family mansion sat heavy on my shoulders. My body still throbbed from Henry's violent attack. The cold disrespect in that house, the suffocating lies, and the overwhelming sense of walking through a museum of dark secrets had drained me completely.
Stephan drove in focused silence. One of his hands was steady on the steering wheel. The other hand rested possessively on my thigh.
His thumb traced slow, absent circles against the fabric of my dress. It felt like he was grounding himself through my touch. I leaned my head against the cool window, watching the city lights blur into soft streaks of gold and orange.
The USB drive I had taken from Henry's room felt like a hot piece of coal in my pocket. It burned with dangerous possibilities I was almost afraid to discover.
