It had been ages since she'd fallen into such an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
When she finally awoke, the afternoon sun was already waning.
Only after Drake and Lucas had helped send off all the guests, and Ryan had cleared away the bouquets for her, did she rouse herself fully.
The curtains were still open, and the setting sun cast long shadows across the room.
She sat up abruptly, wincing as a sharp ache shot through her thighs—so sore she could barely lift them.
*Damn Drake.*
Every time, he left her utterly wrecked.
A pang of bitterness twisted in her chest.
The last time they had tangled between the sheets felt like a lifetime ago.
She changed into a sleek black suit in the dressing room, but no matter how she adjusted the collar, the faint bruises along her neck refused to stay hidden.
*How the hell am I supposed to wear a scarf in this heat?*
*Damn Drake.*
She layered on foundation, blending carefully with powder until the marks were less noticeable.
