Vanessa
"He better be glad I had an exact replica of this dress ready to go," Camila mutters, her hands delicately reapplying the finishing touches to my makeup. I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt; she had to redo everything, even though I'm not the one who messed it up.
A shiver courses through me as I reflect on my recent actions. It was a blend of hot, exhilarating, and sinfully wrong. If Camila had stepped in just a minute earlier, she would've caught me on my knees for her brother.
The absence of my usual guilt and shame is...suspicious. While common morality dictates that I should be repulsed by my recent behavior, an undeniable desire to repeat the experience lingers. There was a strange feeling of empowerment when I had such a big, powerful man at my mercy. He appeared to e
