Chapter 88

• Sandro's hand resting firmly on the small of Anastasia's back felt like a brand seared into her flesh, and she loathed the sensation as much as she detested him in that moment.
• The cool air that rushed into her lungs caused her to choke slightly, and with each deliberate scrape of her heels against the floor, she resolutely refused to take another step forward.
• Throughout the entire night, she had maintained a stony silence, steadfastly resisting the urge to succumb to the despair that lurked in the shadows of her mind. Deep down, she longed to believe that there was still a chance he might not take her back.