Caroline*****The first thing I noticed was the lingering soreness of my thighs and pelvis. Grimacing, I stretched through the pain.My right hand searched through the sheets. Finding only coolness, I leaned over and reached further. The emptiness struck me and I frowned. My eyes reluctantly peeled open to look around. Marshall wasn't in bed. His side was stone cold, as though he hadn't been here for a while. I didn't hear him moving around in the bathroom either. I sat up and instantly gasped at the spasm of pain in my thighs. Gritting my teeth, I threw the covers off of me. My breath caught.My abdomen and thighs were littered with hickeys and bruises. The man did a toll on my body last night. As soon as I agreed to marry him, it was like a switch flipped. He took me again in the bed a few times, then against the vanity in the bathroom, and twice more in the kitchen. I couldn't escape his massive cock or greedy fingers or ravenous lips. And because I was a little fucked in the

Caroline*****My eyes were physically out of tears. They felt heavy and almost itchy from their dryness. I wished I could just close my eyes and rest them, but sleep was impossible.I glanced over at Uncle Sam, who was sitting in the driver's seat. He was staring at the road and didn't respond to my lingering gaze. We hadn't spoken much since he picked me up at the foot of Marshall's driveway. It certainly wasn't out of lack of interest on my part.I had so many questions about Marshall, about the FBI, about Freya's murder and my parents' death, and Sam's role in all of this. I just didn't have the heart to ask anymore. Only hours ago, Sam picked me up and brought me to a discreet FBI checkpoint in town where I was told by agents that Marshall was the leader of the Persian mafia. They'd been trying to catch him on drug charges for years now but had been unsuccessful in penetrating his ring. They told me it was extremely likely he was responsible for the death of my parents and tha