The Night the Don Died in My Arms
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Summary
On my eighteenth birthday, the boy I'd secretly loved for years kissed me first.
After a night of passion, I traced the marks on my skin and thought it was all a dream.
I was ready to make it official. But the next day, my nude photos were plastered across the entire school.
When I confronted him, Damien Ashford laughed with bloodshot eyes:
"Blame your mother. If she hadn't turned a blind eye while those girls destroyed Rosalie, Rosalie would never have killed herself."
"Now let's see — when her own daughter becomes the school whore, will she still just sit back and watch?"
