Dahlia gently pushed Sullivan away, keeping her hands firmly on his chest, ensuring the distance between them. "You want me in your bed only because the Crown Prince has feelings for me," she said, her voice low but steady as she met his gaze.
"Yes," Sullivan answered without hesitation.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes hardening. "Then you will never touch me," she declared, her words like a final verdict.
Sullivan's brow furrowed. "Don't you love me?"
Dahlia ignored the question, her voice rising with frustration. "And what about you? Shouldn't you love me? I thought we built something over this period of time—a connection, trust, even feelings. But none of that matters to you, does it? All you care about is another man's interest." She searched his face, hoping for something—anything—to contradict her fears. "Am I worth so little to you?"
