The Blackwood estate had become a mausoleum of broken trust.
Sophia barely left her room for the next two days. When she did emerge—pale, red-eyed, moving like a ghost through the marble halls—she refused to look at me. She wouldn’t speak to Damien unless absolutely necessary. The air in the mansion felt thick with betrayal, guilt, and the constant, heavy scent of s*x that clung to my skin no matter how many times I showered.
I was never clean.
Damien made sure of that.
Every night he came to my room (or dragged me to his), f****d me raw for hours, and left me leaking his c*m from both holes. Every morning he made me sit at breakfast with no panties, his fresh load slowly dripping down my thighs while Sophia sat across from us in silence.
This morning was no different.
I lowered myse
