Seeing the Old Snow Again

I sold myself to bury my father, and in return, Kingston's playboy, Cassian Aniston, took me into his home.

He offered me a refuge, but it came at a price—one filled with humiliation.

"You're nothing more than my plaything," he often taunted, his tone dripping with disdain.

And all the while, his beloved schemed to see me dead.

It was a dangerous game—one where two dogs strived for a bone, and a third ran away with it.