Sophia's Point Of View
The room was dim, lit only by the sliver of moonlight that slipped past the half-closed blinds. The sheets clung to my damp skin, soaked with sweat and shame.
My body ached, every inch of it. I sat up slowly, wincing at the familiar sting between my legs, my arms instinctively wrapping around my chest even though I was already stripped bare, both in body and soul.
The silence pressed down on me like a weight I couldn't shake off.
And then, the door creaked open.
Antonio stepped in, his frame imposing, backlit by the hallway light. His skin glistened with a fresh sheen of water, a towel lazily hanging from his hips. His dark eyes found me immediately, scanning my form like a predator admiring his prize. My breath caught in my throat.
He tossed something onto the dresser, a phone, or maybe his watch. Then he leaned against the doorway with that cruel, mocking smile that made my stomach twist.
