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Prologue

Charlotte

Please don’t hit me.

My husband’s palm connects with my cheek, sending a stinging pain across my skin. I bite down on my bottom lip, swallowing the sob that tries to escape.

“You stupid bitch.” Fear swirls through my veins as he stares down at me with disgust in his beady eyes. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a woman. Not to mention, a complete disappointment to your parents.”

I fight the urge to cry, blinking away tears as a punishing burn crawls up my throat. “I-I’m sorry. I really thought it would work this time. I didn’t think—”

“That’s right,” he snarls. “You didn’t think.” His gaze drags slowly over me before settling on my face, satisfaction flickering in his eyes as he admires the fresh mark blooming across my cheek. “Go make yourself presentable. My constituents expect to see the perfect couple tonight, so be a good girl and play your role.” He leans down until we’re eye level. “Because if you embarrass me”—his voice drops to a deadly whisper—“it’s going to be a very long night.” His eyes lock with mine, evil emerging around his dark irises. “Do I make myself clear?”

I break eye contact, dropping my gaze as a violent tremor ripples through me. “Yes, sir,” I answer softly.

Without another word, he straightens his jacket and turns away, disappearing around the corner as if he hadn’t just laid a hand on me or threatened my life.

Something I should be used to by now.

The second he’s gone, tears escape, leaving shallow paths through my makeup while adrenaline sends every muscle in my body trembling. I sag against the wall, waiting for the terror clawing inside me to loosen its grip. To let me breathe freely.

Voices drift down the hall as guests arrive for the governor’s dinner, eager for a chance to mingle with my husband, Garrett Johnson.

Little do they know he’s just a devil under that designer exterior. A monster with no soul, and a man I was sold to.

A restroom sits at the end of the corridor, and I force my body toward it, slipping inside before I completely unravel. Half of the room lies in darkness from a faulty light bulb, but I don’t care. I’m used to the dark.

Thankful to find that no one’s inside, I step into the last stall and lock the door behind me, feeling a semblance of safety for the first time in hours.

My back hits the wall as I slide onto the cold marble floor, my silver satin dress pooling around me. I don’t even care that I’m curled up in a public bathroom that’s probably witnessed more atrocities than I want to think about. Dropping my clutch, I wrap my arms around my legs and bury my face against my knees, letting the tears flow freely.

My chest constricts, and every breath is almost impossible, as if an invisible force is pressing down on my lungs.

This will pass.

It always does.

It’s just a panic attack.

But as the seconds drag on and my heartbeat spirals out of control, fear slithers through me, taking hold of my mind, and I wonder if maybe this time it won’t pass.

Maybe this will be the panic attack that ends it all for me.

And maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

The restroom door swings open, and the sharp sound of footsteps echoes across the floor in slow, deliberate steps.

Lifting my head, I immediately notice they’re not women’s shoes but men’s. Perfectly polished black leather comes into view beneath the stall door before stopping directly in front of me.

Knock. Knock.

I freeze, every muscle locking tight.

Maybe Garrett sent one of his guards after me.

Knock. Knock.

I swallow hard. “Someone… Someone’s in here,” I manage to get out.