Amelie stood in her bedroom, the soft glow of the dimmed lights casting a warm, golden hue over the room. The air was thick with the scent of lavender from the candles she had lit, a desperate attempt to calm her racing thoughts. The door was locked, and the silence was deafening.
She had dismissed all of her maids, not wanting anyone to nag her about her quiet and somewhat groggy state. She needed time, space—to think, to feel, to process everything that had happened the night before.
She undressed slowly, her fingers trembling slightly as she removed each piece of clothing. When she was finally bare, she took a few seconds to assess the light pink marks on her body––the sensual "branding" left by Liam as if he wanted to claim her, to make sure she would constantly think of his touch every time she saw her body.
