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When I didn’t hold her steady, she wobbled from foot to foot, unable to get any sort of a foothold considering her height. She couldn’t be more than five feet five. She’d barely come to the middle of my chest when she’d stood on flat feet. I walked around her a few times, just circling, taking my time as she tried to follow my movements, her eyes watching me closely.

“You really do stink,” I said, stopping to face her. “Did you piss yourself, or did they piss on you?” I couldn’t help it. One corner of my mouth lifted at the question. At the callousness of it.

The girl’s eyes narrowed. A brief look of shame flashed through them.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked finally. “If you are, just do it. Just get it over with.”

She wasn’t begging for her freedom, or her life, for that matter. Hadn’t offered a single bribe—they usually did. Offered all the money they had. Their families had. They didn’t have a clue that what I’d be paid would far exceed what most families of these lost girls could earn in a year.

Lost girls. I’d come to call them that. This one, though, this Gia—she was no lost girl. No. She was different, and I wanted to know what it was that made her so.

“You’re not here to die. You’re here to train. We only have two weeks, which is less than my usual. And given your…unpleasant disposition”—I let my gaze travel over her—“it’d take anyone else double that time.” I looked her in the eye and winked. “But I’m a professional. I’ll make it work.”

“Train?”

“Teach you how to behave—for the auction, at least. After that, you’re not my problem anymore.”

“What auction?”

“Slave auction. There’s one in two weeks. You’ll be there. Guest of honor. At least, one of the guests of honor. Let’s get you cleaned up, so I can see what I’ve got to work with.”

I reached up to free her cuffs from the hook, and she sighed in relief when her feet stood flat on the floor again. Holding her by one arm, I wrapped the other around the back of her neck and pulled her close. She planted her hands on my chest, keeping as much distance as she could between us.

“You want the cuffs off?”

She searched my masked face, focusing on my eyes, then nodded.

I reached into my pocket and took out two pills. “Open up.”

She eyed them. “What are they?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “They’ll help you relax.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want them.”

“I don’t recall asking you if you wanted them.”

She slowly turned her gaze up to mine and gave me a one-sided grin, then opened her mouth.

“Ahhh.”

Piece of work, this one. I would administer the sedative a different way next time, and when I did, she’d be begging me to take it orally again. But for now, I brought my hand to her mouth and tilted it. But before the pills could slide in, she opened wide and bit hard into the flesh of my palm, breaking the skin.

“Fuck!” I yanked her off but only after she’d drawn blood. My hand automatically rose to slap her, and she cringed, cowering before me.

In the moment I hesitated, she backed up against the wall, eyes huge, hands up, palms to me.

I lowered my hand and took hold of her arm instead, shoving her to the floor. “Down!”

My blood streaked her skin where I held her. She made a sound when her knees hit the hardwood.

“Pick them up.”

She whimpered, muttering something senseless. I squatted beside her and gripped the hair at the back of her neck to force her to look at me.

“Pick. Them. Up.”

Her terrified eyes shifted from mine to the two pills lying on the floor and back. Holding my gaze, she felt for them and closed her fist around them.

“Hold them out to me.”

She did, her hand trembling, her eyes locked on mine.

“You want to swallow these, or do you want me to shove them up your ass?” I sounded calm, as if I had full control of myself. Little did she know that was when I was at my worst. When rage owned me.

She studied me, perhaps unable to speak.

“Ass it is,” I said, making to rise and dragging her with me. But by the time we were standing, those pills had disappeared down her throat, and she gripped my forearm, trying to relieve the pressure on her hair. “Open.”

She did, and I turned her head this way and that to make sure she’d swallowed. She had.

I released her, and she stumbled backward.

“I owe you one,” I said, referring to a punishment, but from the look on her face, she didn’t get it. I headed to the door.

“Wait.”

I unlocked it and pulled it open. I’d bandage my hand while the pills did their work.

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