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I do want to escape this, and at the same time I want to cling to Steffen because he’s the only one who told me the truth.

Maybe I owe him a night with my body. Stop it! That’s your lonely hormones talking.

Curling deeper into the chair, I regretfully admit that I do trust Steffen, which is fucking ludicrous because he’s the devil, wrapped in tight skin, hard muscles and seductive looks. He’s likely going to try to steal my soul.

Groaning, I stand, taking my time to try and stretch. I eye the crutch Steffen placed on the tiny end table next to the armchair.

Honestly I don’t need it to walk. I can put more weight on my ankle, but I grab the crutch, shove it under my armpit and head toward my bathroom. I don’t trust my legs after the orgasms Steffen gave me.

After I freshen up and change, I decided to brave the men. Twisting the doorknob I step outside, expecting to see Torben standing guard, but instead emptiness greets me. A sign they trust me not to run.

The house is so soundless and clean, it’s like I’m in a museum after hours; it’s both creepy and exhilarating.

Who the heck cleans this place? Just the thought has my back aching.

Is Steffen a dark knight by day and a maid by night?

Swallowing down my laugh, I envision him dressed in tight boxers and bending down with a dust rag.

“Hello,” I shout. I look to the right knowing it leads to the stairs. My gaze drifts to Steffens’s room at the end of the hall.

“Why not.” I shrug. The door is painted in grey matte that looks velvety to the touch. There is something about that color that is dangerously inviting.

Raising my fist, I knock. “Steffen,” I say.

Nothing.

I turn the knob and step inside. It’s the size of my small rented home, but a millions times better. There is a massive bed covered in white blankets and pillows. It looks like a cloud, and if my ankle wasn’t twisted I might have run and jumped onto it. To the far side is another enormous window, with an entire seating section and another fireplace. I walk to it but unlike the fireplace in the sitting room, this one looks like it’s never been used.

“I like the view, but I’d prefer you in my bed.”

Yelping, I turn with my hand on my heart and the other aiming the crutch like a sword. “Stop sneaking up on me,” I grunt as I embarrassingly lower the crutch.

Steffen’s lips curl, but his eyes study me. “You make it so easy, Rylan.”

“This is your room.”

He dips his chin.

I look around. Sure it’s designed perfectly but… “Why isn’t it personal? It’s so cold.”

He walks toward me, as he does his eyes roam the room. “Would you like to warm it for me?”

“Don’t try to seduce me again.”

“I’m merely talking, but if your mind is thinking naughty things that’s on you,” he purrs as he comes closer.

I step back, but a chair blocks me.

“I want a phone,” I state, as I stand tall. My heart is pumping so wildly I feel like each beat could cause me to keel over.

He stops a foot from me. “Okay.”

I’ve contemplated this for hours, unsure if it was a wise choice to ask for one. The pressure from the crutch under my armpit starts to burn so I walk to the couch and sit down. That’s when I notice that from his window, you can see into my room. The chair I was sitting in is perfectly in view. Irrationality sizzles on my tongue.

“You were watching me.”

He rounds the couch and smartly sits on the other end. Leaning back and pulling a leg up he gets comfortable. “I was worried.”