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“Riggins Enterprises, this is Layla.”

“You got my package?” my mother's raspy voice greets me.

“Yes. Where did you get those?”

She laughs. The sound is pure evil, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. “Little girl, I told you. You’ve been making me money.”

“What does that mean?”

“When you turned eighteen, I lost the money that the state was giving me for putting up with you, so I had to improvise.”

“What money?”

She cackles. “Welfare, little girl. I got paid to keep you.”

“Then why didn’t we have food or clothes?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“You had a roof over your head, you ungrateful bitch. I needed the rest of that money.”

“For drugs? For booze? I’m your daughter,” I say, my voice growing stronger as my anger takes route.

“You had no idea that we recorded you. We get a pretty penny for your showers on the internet.”

“W-What?” I choke out over the lump in my throat. “What do you mean?”

“I mean those are pictures of the videos we stream of you. Don’t worry, doll. We don’t show your face. At least not yet. If you don’t get me my money, I’ll have your face plastered all over the internet. What do you think your little billionaire and his family will think about you then?”

“I hate you.” The words fly out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this to me? You’re my mother.”

“You were income, little girl—nothing more, nothing less. And now you’re going to be my big payday. I want a million dollars cash by the end of the day on Sunday, or we tell the world who you are.”

“I can’t get that kind of money.”

“Figure it out.”

“N-No. I won’t do it. I won’t take from him, or any of them to feed your habit.”

“You will do as I say.”

“I’m an adult. You can no longer control me. Go fuck yourself,” I say, slamming the phone down on the base. I’m breathing heavy, and my heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid it might beat right out of my chest.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. I repeat this over and over until I feel as though I have control. That’s when the reality of my situation sets in. She’s going to expose me for something I’m not. I need to decide what to do.

I don’t know how I’m going to face Owen and his family. On the other side, I can’t leave them either.

I’m going to fight back. That’s my only choice. Leaving Owen isn’t something I’m willing to do. Not without giving him the chance to decide for himself. I should be selfless and leave, but I love him too much.

I need to get my thoughts in order. Then I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything, surely, they can help me. It’s going to get out one way or the other. I refuse to take money from Owen or his family, not for her. Not like this. I just hope Owen and his family understands, and they’re still here with me when this is all said and done. I’m going to embarrass them, and it’s going to look bad on Riggins Enterprises. I know the chances are slim, but it’s a chance I have to take. They’re more family to me than my own mother, and if they ask me to leave, I’ll go quietly.

I’ve never been happier than my time here in Nashville. I’m not giving that up unless I have to. I need to figure out how to tell them. Maybe after I go to the police, then I’ll know more of how this is going to be handled, and maybe if I plead with the police, they can keep it out of the media. I’m a minor in some of those images and videos. My stomach rolls yet again, thinking about the perverts who’ve been watching me online. Even if there are not videos, she has the pictures.

I refuse to remain a victim of my circumstances of my mother. It’s time to fight back. At least I’ll know I stood up for what was right. I just hope I don’t destroy my heart and happiness in the process.

Picking up my phone, I call Marshall. I could walk back to his office, but I don’t want to see him or Sawyer. I just need to get out of here. “Layla,” he greets me. His voice is harder than usual.

“Hi, Marshall. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go on home. Can you tell Owen for me if he comes back to the office?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just think I need to lie down.”

“You need me to drive you?”

“No, that’s okay.” Shit, I forgot I don’t have a car here.

“Take Owen’s car. He rode with Royce. We’ll make sure he gets home.”

“Are you sure?”

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