Marie's POV
The coffee smelled bitter that morning. I stood by the counter, watching the dark liquid pour slowly into my cup. My hands were steady this time, but only because I was too tired to shake. I took a sip and winced. It was too strong again. But I needed it that strong to take away the memories from last night. I had signed up for this. I was doing this to protect my family. But I hated myself. I hated myself for enjoying what Mancini did to me. I wanted to stop feeling. I didn't want him to, but at the same time, whenever he is inside me, I just want to go on.
I wanted to slap myself. How could my body respond to such a wicked man?
The kitchen door opened, and Patricia walked in. She was dressed in one of her silk robes. She didn't say anything at first. She just walked to the fridge, got a bottle of water, and leaned against the counter near me.
