“Remember me, darling?”—I said, stretching my lips with mockery.
“—No. You’re just one of many.”
“My sweet….”
—“And I remember you, my dear prosecutor! Every night you’ve been in my dreams. For all those damn five years.”
—“The prophet has been freed. And I’m on his list of the guilty.”
Threats, blackmail, and torture with a tempting body—those are his favorite ways of getting results. Yes, I’m afraid of him. But it’s me. He won’t even know about my fear. And I will protect my son—no matter what. But who will protect my heart?