Bianca's POV
Sleep remained elusive.
I stared at the ceiling, my body rigid against the mattress. The darkness pressed down on me like a suffocating weight. The bedsheets twisted around my legs in a stranglehold. I kicked them away violently, then dragged them back up, only to shove them off again moments later.
Benedict's voice echoed in my skull like a broken record. That silky, patronizing drawl that made my skin crawl. The way he had addressed me as if I were some disobedient child caught sneaking sweets.
"Don't ever move without my permission again."
The audacity of that bastard. Percival had orchestrated this entire mess, and now I was paying the price for his machinations.
