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Taking my time to gather my stationary, I wait until everyone has left before approaching her worktable. “Madame Page?”
She looks up with a pinched expression. “Yes?”
“Is there a problem with my work?”
She goes back to what she was writing. “No.”
I’m tempted to just leave, but this is too important to me. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Why didn’t you critique my work?”
Her pencil makes a scratching sound as she pulls it over the paper. “You don’t need my input, Mademoiselle Hart. You’ll pass with flying colors.”
The words don’t elicit the warmth of pride in my chest. Instead, they leave me cold, a terrible notion making me shrivel. “You don’t think I merit to be here, do you?”
“If that’s all, I have work to do.” She waves me off, not bothering to grace me with another glance.
Clutching my satchel under my arm, I make my way into the warm sunlight while coldness creeps over every inch of my skin. Maxime waits across the road, leaning on his fancy sports car. His eyes are trained on me, following my progress with undivided attention. Giving me this much freedom is a big deal for him, but I can’t appreciate it. Not right now.
A few of the women from my class are gathered on the lawn in front of the building. They’re looking my way, whispering as they too follow my progress toward the blue Bugatti.
I block them out. I block everything out. When Maxime kisses my lips, I can’t help but pull back. He stills. The coldness I feel in my bones settles over his eyes, turning the gray to winter instead of molten skies.
“How was the first day?” he asks, his observation sharpening on me as he gets my door.
I don’t bother to answer. There’s a tick to his jaw, but I can’t even bring myself to be scared. I just feel numb like on the night that was supposed to be a celebration when I drank myself into a stupor and spent the next day being sick. That sickness descends on me now, turning my stomach.
He says nothing as he starts the engine. The powerful hum of the motor is the only sound in my ears as he heads toward town.
When he doesn’t take our exit, I snap out of my haze. “Where are we going?”
“To celebrate.”
My stomach clenches. I dig my nails into my palms.
“We’re having dinner in town.” He glances at me. “There’s an opening of a new casino.”
“You have to be there,” I say in a flat tone.
He changes gears and accelerates too abruptly. “Yes, but it’ll still be a celebration.”
I register his fancy suit and tie. “I’m not dressed for a party.”
“I have a dress for you in the trunk.”
I can’t face one of his fancy affairs. Not today. “Maxime, please. I just want to go home.”
His eyebrows pull together. “What’s wrong?”
I’m suddenly so tired I sag in my seat. “I don’t want to be your eye candy tonight.”
His knuckles turn white on the gearstick. “Is it so terrible to be seen with me? Is that what was going on back there? You’re happy enough for my money to pay for your classes, but you don’t want your friends to know who’s paying?”
They’re not my friends. He made sure they’d never be. Rubbing a hand over my forehead, I say quietly, “They already know.”
He brings the car to a screeching halt in front of a white building with a water fountain. Grabbing my jaw in his hand, he squeezes painfully. “You’re mine, Zoe, for the whole fucking world to see. Is that clear enough, or is it time for another lesson?”
Tears gather in my eyes. I shake my head. “Please, Maxime. I can’t do this. Not tonight. Just take me home.”
He lets go, the momentum shoving me against the door. “You will go inside and get changed. You will wait for me in the room until I come and fetch you.” His expression hardens. “How tonight turns out is up to you.”
He gets out, comes around, and opens my door. Gautier and Benoit must’ve followed behind us. They get out of a Mercedes. Gautier takes a dry-cleaning and overnight bag from the trunk of Maxime’s car. Benoit scans the entrance of the casino and steps aside for me to enter. I’m halfway across the pavement when Maxime catches my wrist.
“You forgot something.” Yanking me against him, he cups my nape and kisses me.
The kiss is hot and intense, but I’m not in it.
Maxime tears his lips from mine and pushes me aside. “Make sure you’re ready in an hour.”
I walk on wooden legs to the door, following Gautier and Benoit through the lobby to an elevator. Gautier pushes the button for the top floor. Always the penthouse. He leaves the bags on the bed and checks the suite before locking me in.
