She wasn’t mine to claim—I knew nothing about her.
But then our eyes met…
She danced on stage, exposed in more ways than just her lack of clothing. I expected to see lust. Instead, I got anger, hatred, resentment. She was in deep with the company I’d escaped, and my presence at Club Swank made me guilty by association.
But I refused to let them have her.
I’d protect her at all costs. After all, they owed me.
Dear Diamond is created by Stephie Walls, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.