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Amber gave me a brave smile and let me lead her out of the room. I’d fed her lie after lie, somehow convincing her that I was the owner of the scholarship she’d received, a ballet lover who wanted to pay it back into the community and encourage young dancers to pursue their dreams. What Amber didn’t know was that I was never letting Harlow dance for anyone else but me.

“How did she seem?” I asked her in the hallway, the door shut.

“She seems to be coming around,” Amber said with a bright smile. “She said quite a few things, she seemed to be happy to see me. But she was more concerned about how I was doing than herself…”

Of course she was. The kid should never have been there in the first place.

I promised Amber she could come back to see her friend the next day. I would’ve done anything to get her back, to forgive me.

Once she was gone down the hallway, I entered the room again. Harlow wouldn’t look at me. I wondered when the cold shoulder would end.

I couldn’t get my mind off the moments when I touched her… felt her. I wanted to explain everything to her, yet I was wary of revealing too much, scaring her off. I would have to pace myself.

I walked up to her and rested a palm on her shoulder because I was a fucking sadist and I loved the pained expression on her face when I did it. But it hurt me too, the way she recoiled, never so much as giving me a second glance. I was about to move out of the way when her lips parted, her breath fogging the window.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I stroked her cheek with a single finger and walked away, not trusting myself anymore.

20 days later

She’d spoken to me every day for a week, and I was addicted to the gentle sound of her voice. I was going fucking soft on her.

She was coming out of her shell, slowly becoming the woman I needed her to be for me. I was a selfish prick, knowing I should’ve had a conscience but never finding it in myself, no matter how deep I dug.

Every time I tried to explain things to her she clamped up, but on that day, I was a man on a mission. I was going to make her listen no matter what.

She was sitting on the bed like always. I was sitting next to her, in an armchair, my elbows on my knees as I stared at her openly.

I hadn’t told her she’d basically taken over my bedroom. I’d been sleeping in a guest room for over a month. I fucking wanted to be in the same bed as her, yet I knew it was too early. I couldn’t risk breaking her before I’d put her back together again.

“Ellis was like a brother to me,” I said, and she closed her eyes tightly. She was one step away from putting her palms over her ears, shutting out my words. But I wasn’t going to let her. This time, I would force her to listen to me and finally find out the truth. “I did it to protect you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare blame me,” she snapped, glaring at me with a fierceness I’d never seen in her. “I didn’t ask you to kill him!”

“Yet you wanted him dead,” I said.

“So did you, you’re the one who killed him,” she whispered.

I couldn’t argue with that logic. Once again though, I felt the magnetic pull between us telling me to touch her. I resisted.

“You will learn all about me soon enough,” I told her. “But you should know this isn’t a bad place.”

“No?” she asked mockingly. “What about Amber?”

“Amber,” I growled. “Was brought here by Ellis, and you can blame him for it, not me.”

“What about me?” she whispered. “Did Ellis pick me, too?”

I stared into her eyes.

“No,” I finally replied. “You’re mine. My pick. You have been from the beginning.”

I let the dust settle between us, and then she spoke up again.

“All the other women,” she went on. “In the house. The naked girl… the others. What about them?”

“They are here because they want to be,” I told her, and she smirked. “I am not lying to you, Harlow.”

The way she responded to her name on my lips fucking killed me.

“Most of them have survived being trafficked,” I went on. “They are here to recover, and will leave eventually, when they are ready. Some of them have been… broken.”

She stared at me accusingly.

“Some minds cannot endure being broken without craving it again and again,” I explained. “Those women will be willingly sold to a new owner.”

“And you’ll pocket the money,” she said bitterly.

I didn’t deny it.

She shook her head dismissively and looked away.

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