"Who do you think fondled your breasts?"
He asked, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.
"Umm…what?"
Nadia blinked, her brain short-circuiting for a moment.
That question was bizarre enough to send her spiraling. Who did fondle her breasts? Obviously, it was him—right? There wasn't a parade of horny ghosts haunting this place. But wait...
Her mind took a sharp detour down memory lane.
The massage. That shoulder massage was definitely Juliana's doing. She could recall the feel of her mother's hands now—gentle, firm, but nothing like the calloused fingers of the devil currently grinning at her.
And yet…when the chaos began, she had lost all sense of reason.
"It-it can't be…" she whispered, horror dawning on her.
Her throat went dry as the mental puzzle pieces snapped together like a sadistic jigsaw.
