Oliver's POV
I was so mad I could feel the silver in my blood vibrating with the force of my rage. "Father, enough!" I roared, the sound tearing through my raw throat. "Aurora is my woman. You have no right to call her a slut. You will respect her, or you will answer to me."
He didn't flinch. Instead, a cruel, mocking smile touched his lips. "Look at you. Defending a whore. You have no idea what she really is, do you? You think she's some innocent lamb?" He reached into his coat and flung a stack of glossy pictures at me. They scattered across the white sheets, one hitting Aurora's face.
I picked one up, and my heart skipped a beat. It was Aurora, draped in a dark cloak, walking into the BDSM club where I reigned as Raymond.
"Your innocent lover is fucking a dominant in that club," my father spat, his voice filled with disgust. "She spends her nights on her knees for a masked stranger. I got my information from a reliable source. She is playing you for a fool, Oliver."
