I Am the Game

For our third wedding anniversary, my husband Dominic gave me an unforgettable gift: an admission letter to The Rosewood Institute. It was a place notorious among the city’s elite, a glorified black site where high society sent disobedient women to be broken and tamed.

"You have deeply disappointed me, Vivienne," Dominic said, pinching my chin, his eyes twisted with disgust. "For three years you’ve tried to copy Audrey, yet you still lack even a fraction of her grace."

Audrey was his soft, gentle ideal. I was the untamed one he was determined to break.