Alesia's POV.
"Choose your next words," Jericho said softly, dangerously, "as though your very life depends on them pleasing me."
I bit my lips hard, refusing to let the tears fall. He was doing this on purpose, always having to remind me what I was to him. A debt, a stripping debt. To him, I was nothing but a commodity.
I reached for the hem of my cloth, my hand trembling. "Please..don't make me do this". The word escaped before I could stop it. He only glared at me with cold indifference.
For a moment I wish I actually had the courage to fire the gun at him earlier, I could have ended all of this for good.
I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that alone could block everything out—his voice, his presence, the weight of what he was asking of me. But it didn't. Nothing did.
Tears slipped past my lashes anyway, trailing down my cheeks as my fingers slowly pulled the fabric off my shoulder. The dress loosened, sliding just enough to expose skin I desperately wanted to cover.
