Her eyes were aimed upward, focused on the cracks of morning sunlight. Her eyes shifted down, caught glimpse of the infamous pulley bolted to the ceil...ng, a grin perked over her lips. Her eyes shifted to her right, no Victor Hardway. Her eyes frowned then her nose wrinkled, caught whiff of food. Slowly she sat up, her eyes scanned the dim morning light lit room. She slightly grinned, she woke up in Victory Hardway’s bed in his loft bedroom inside his apartment. Her grin faded as her eyes. Brayden took off her shoe. Examining it by candle light, he gently wrapped her ankle in a towel, applied the bag of ice, and bandaged it up. ‘Well I’m happy to report it’s not broken but you do have a nasty sprain.’ By the time he finished Marissa had finished her glass of wine. He poured her another glass as well as himself one. Marissa took another sip and hurried to wipe off her lips before the pungently bitter wine could run down. She murmured contentedly. ‘Thank you,’ she stated. ‘How. More

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