Lyra sprang off the bed and slammed the door with a force loud enough for Dante to hear.
She staggered back a few steps, screaming as she yanked at the nightgown, fury burning through her.
The storm of anger and disappointment broke, spilling into tears.
She dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the relentless stream of water wash over her.
Her hands braced against the wall.
She couldn't understand what he saw in her.
She was just an ordinary woman, nothing like the actresses or famous models who wore makeup daily and dressed in expensive designer clothes.
She didn't even smell of sweet perfume. The sharp scent of medicine clung to her skin instead.
He possessed unimaginable wealth and power. He could have chosen countless other women. Surely, many of them wanted him.
The strength drained from her legs, and she slumped, letting her body sink and curl up on the floor.
She wanted to go home… back into her husband's arms.
