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The Tyrant's Secret fetish - Chapter 8
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Chapter 7
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... slaps, shirt crusty and gross against my skin, and Si-woo right behind me like he owned the place, which he kinda did since his dad paid for this fancy house after the marriage. I wiped at my face, trying to hide the dried tear tracks, but who was I kidding, my cheeks were probably glowing red like stop signs from all his handiwork in the elevator. "Home sweet hell," I muttered under my breath, kicking off my shoes messy, one flying into the coat rack and knocking a jacket down.
Si-woo ...
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