For the first time, she entertained the thought that she, too, might one day break the leash. That she might carve her own place, not under her master's shadow, but in the light of her own dominion. And the idea thrilled her more than she dared admit.
Playing with the minds of men was nothing new to her. She had done it countless times before, courtiers with wandering eyes, nobles drunk on their own pride, merchants softened by lust and wine. They were easy prey, eager to be conquered, blind to her strings. But Nwadiebeube was different. He was strong. His will was iron, his presence unshakable, and the memory of his scalding hand clamped around her throat still burned against her skin like a brand.
