Sweat poured down Emmeline’s flushed face, plastering strands of her hair to her damp skin.
"What are you doing, Mr. Blackthorn?" she managed to pant out between labored breaths, glaring daggers at him.
Rather than responding verbally, Zavian simply reached over and jabbed another button on her treadmill's control panel, causing the belt to accelerate even faster.
Emmeline stumbled.
Her stride faltered as she fought against the unbearable new speed with everything she had.
Her muscles screamed in protest, trying to keep up with the relentless pace.
Zavian’s look was filled with wickedness. "I'll discuss adult matters with you when you’re taller," he stated flatly.
His deep voice held an undercurrent of scorn, making Emmeline's cheeks burn with indignation.
She gritted her teet
