I want to be somebody...
Saory was seventeen years old and had a ring that weighed more than it looked. Not because of the gold — she had never lacked that since she married Jaden — but because of the silence that she had learned to carry. Jaden was everything that Saory was not. She was heat, doubt, contained emotion. He was cold, precise, calculated. He didn't scream. I didn't break things. I didn't need to. His control came in simple gestures: a look that lasted too long, a firm hand on her wrist when she went too far, a phrase said in a low tone that sounded like an order disguised as care. — No need to go — he said, calmly. And Saory stayed. She couldn't say when that started to seem normal. Maybe it had always been like this. Maybe he had gotten used to it because there was no one to ask if it was love or just possession. Jaden worked for the mafia. He didn't talk much about it, but the whole town knew who his family was — rich, influential, untouchable. People smiled at Saory with respect… or fear. She never knew.
About I want to be somebody...
Saory was seventeen years old and had a ring that weighed more than it looked. Not because of the gold — she had never lacked that since she married Jaden — but because of the silence that she had learned to carry. Jaden was everything that Saory was not. She was heat, doubt, contained emotion. He was cold, precise, calculated. He didn't scream....Read more