For Clara, loyalty was supposed to define her. Loyalty to her family. To her vows. To the fragile image she showed the world. But one man threatened all of it: Gabriel, the one she should never have touched, the one she should have resisted.
And yet, between sheets meant for innocence, their bodies burned. Every moan, every tremble, every stolen kiss carried them deeper into sin. It wasn't chance. It wasn't weakness.
It was the choice they made, again and again-because some secrets are not found in confession. Some are whispered between sheets.
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