“I’m not a possession.”
He lifts a shoulder. “What is a wife if not the property of her husband?”
I move to yank my hand away, but he holds it steady in his grasp.
“Equals,” I spit.
He laughs, a bitter and resentful sound that flushes my cheeks with embarrassment. “Trust me, Bianca. You don’t want to be my equal. That would mean dancing