Yavannah Constantine
Another distasteful scoff escaped my lips as I set my phone down on the dressing table. It was the same stupid email, warning me to resign from Viva La Vida—like I could, even if I wanted to.
There were financial repercussions for breaching the terms of the contract. I couldn't even sell my kidney to repay Adonis, and frankly, why would I listen to a bunch of internet trolls who couldn't stomach the sight of a woman standing next to the object of their fantasies?
Like you weren't fantasizing just like them.