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Oh yeah, bitch?

He’s mine.

When we’re only paces away, I tug his hand that’s threaded through mine. My heart thumps.

“Ah, there you are,” she says in French.

“Bonjour!” I take both of her hands and look up at her, since she’s so much taller than I am. Remember your job.

“Left hand,” she whispers in my ear as a small velvet bag slips against my palm. I lean in as planned and, as a wave of perfume hits me, kiss her left cheek then her right. Her sudden warmth and charm make me wish I knew her better. Who is she that she does what Thayer commands? Is she a—what did Fabien call it—consensual slave, then? She looks so strong and powerful, it’s hard for me to understand how anyone like her could ever grant her total trust to a man like Thayer.

“Merci beaucoup.”

Just as quickly as she greeted me, she lets me go and Fabien takes my place.

“Au revoir,” she purrs. All around us, pedestrians come and go. Some enter through the door behind me and some go up a set of steps. No one seems to look our way.

Fabien snaps his fingers at me. “Nicolette.”

Did he just snap his fingers at me? I open my mouth to protest, when I remember.

I’m his slave now.

We’re in disguise.

This starts now.

I bite back a retort and smile sweetly. “Yes, sir?”

“Here.” He points beside him. The heft of the talisman in velvet weighs against my palm as I obey. I drop my hands to my sides as we march into the club.

“Show me,” he says, as soon as we’re inside, tucked safely behind the doorway. This has to look exactly like the real thing.

Before we came here, I did my research. I know we’re looking for a quartz sphinx that fits in my hand. It’s ancient-looking and encrusted with gems. Napoleon wanted something unique, something no one else in the world had. What he got was a treasure unlike any that had come before.

I open the velvet bag and tip it into my hand.

“Mon Dieu,” Fabien whispers. “It really does look like it, doesn’t it?”

“From what I’ve seen online, absolutely. And he believed this brought him good luck?”

“He did.” He glances at his watch. “We need to go. Let’s move.”

Does he believe he’ll garner good luck from the real talisman as well?

He takes the fake talisman and slides it into his pocket as we walk hand in hand down a narrow hallway, past a hall filled with so many mirrors I’m almost self-conscious, to the left where another set of double doors leads to a double set of elevators.

“You walk as if you know where you are going,” I say, trying to hide my dismay. “You’ve been here before.”

He isn’t yours. You’ve got a job to do. Think of Savannah.

“I have.”

It isn’t fair for me to be jealous of the fact that he’s been here before. “It isn’t owned by the Lyon family, then?”

“Not at all. Several other families frequent as well.”

Are they all mafia? I suppose it makes sense that organized crime and kink with a side of control run hand in hand.

“When I snap my fingers, you kneel,” he says in a low whisper.

I blink. “What?”

I should hate this. I should have to suck it all up just for the money, but a part of me’s… intrigued.

“We have no time,” he explains. “If we’d had the time we planned, we would’ve gone over all this already, but we didn’t, so for now, you’ll have to remember to do exactly what I say.”

“Okay…” I swallow.

“If you disobey me, I’ll punish you, and it won’t be the kind you like.”

Oh, so there’s a kind I like and I kind I don’t now?

I nod, kinda, sorta going along with this, but my mind is still stuck on “kneel.”

Kneel?

“Yes, sir,” I say helpfully.

“Is there a question in your voice?”

His fingers tighten around mine. “You please me very much.”

Is that… part of the role, or does he mean it?

Is he playacting now? Or is this real?

Singles and couples walk past us. Beside me, I hear a whispered conversation. The two men next to me look deeply into each other’s eyes, as if they’re the only two people in the world, even as they walk in sync.

I want that. I want it so badly it hurts. It gnaws at me like a kind of hunger.

My heart does an unexpected somersault.

Maybe it’s the fact that we’re here, in this place. Maybe it’s because I don’t want our time to come to an end. Maybe I’m afraid, and a part of me knows he’s got me. And it’s been a really, really long time since that’s happened.

I remind myself why I’m here, what I need to do. I mute the desperate need that grips me and look for a sign of the Lyon family. We’re out of time. I don’t know what they look like or where they’ll be, but then I realize Fabien does.

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