The following weeks became a blurred cycle of discipline and devotion. Bram’s rules were strict: Sophie was to study her textbooks for six hours a day, assist him in the gardens, and remain modest in the presence of the few staff members who came to the estate. But behind closed doors, the rules were different.
The tension between them grew into a living thing, a constant electric current that hummed in the hallways. They learned each other's bodies like a map—the way a certain touch on the small of her back made her shiver, the way a specific look in his eyes told her that the "lesson" was about to begin.
One humid August afternoon, the heat became unbearable. The air was thick and stagnant, the city's smog drifting over the vineyard like a grey veil. Bram had spent the day in the cella
