Lucille from The Syndicate sits across from me on the sofa, her back very straight. She sips from the cup of tea that Jenkins brought us on a tray.

Jenkins disappeared soon after I came back. I had to remind him to take dinner up to Aria, mostly just to get him out of the room. I don’t want him listening in on this conversation.

“I’m sorry to come here like this, Mr. Locks,” she says.

“Please, call me Ethan.” I frown at her. “I assume there’s a problem.”

She nods slowly. “There is a problem, Ethan. I’m very sorry about all this.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for yet.”

She looks a little uncomfortable, but she’s hiding it well. Clearly she’s used to dealing with this sort of thing, but whatever she has to say she doesn’t like.

“It’s an, ah, unusual situation,” she says. “We don’t typically sell the girls for more than a couple weeks. One month is a long time.”

I shrug. “You agreed at the time.”

“You offered a lot of money.”

“And you took my money.” I lean toward her. “Are you regretting it?”

“Yes, we are,” she says. “Truth is, we shouldn’t have sold you Aria for a month. You’re a new client. There’s normally some kind of short-term trial period.”

I cross my arms and watch her for a moment, trying to read her. She looks back impassively, and I get the sense that she’s not telling me the full truth. They didn’t have any issue selling me Aria at the time when I offered them a lot of money. And there haven’t been any problems up to this point.

“Have I mistreated her?” I ask. “Has she complained?”

“No,” Lucille says, shaking her head. “Not at all.”

“Then you’ll excuse me if I’m trying to figure out what the hell you’re doing here.”

She looks a little surprised at my forceful tone, which was the point. I want to throw her off balance, make her actually tell me what’s going on here.

“We want her back, Ethan,” she says. “We’re willing to refund most of your money as compensation.”

“Fuck the money,” I say.

She frowns but continues. “Aria will be treated well, of course. She’ll get her payment. Maybe not as much as she would have, but still a generous amount. And we’re willing to offer you another girl to finish out your month-long contract at a very agreeable discount.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “So you’re willing to give me another girl, but I can’t have Aria?”

“That’s right,” she says. “Aria is new as well. She wasn’t prepared for this level of contract.”

“Aria is fine,” I say. “There’s no reason for you to take her back. We’ll finish the contract as we agreed.”

“I’m sorry, Ethan. But I’m not allowed to do that.”

“Listen, Lucille. I don’t know why you’re here. You’re giving me these vague excuses, and none of it adds up. You’re clearly lying, or at least you’re keeping something from me. So until you tell me why I should give her up, we’re done here.”

I move to stand and she sighs, holding up one hand, her eyes closed. I can tell she’s pained. She’s probably not supposed to tell me the real reason why The Syndicate wants Aria back.

It’s probably something embarrassing. The fact that Lucille is here at all is a breach of their decorum. They’re normally incredibly discreet and professional and apparently pride themselves on their efficiency. But sending Lucille here to gather up Aria and to break their contract seems like it’s very out of their character.

“Please, I’ll explain.” She looks at me with a frown on her face. “Please, sit.”

I slowly sit back down and lean toward her, elbows on my knees. “Go ahead,” I say.

“It’s her father,” Lucille admits with a sigh. “He found her. We’re not really sure how, but he’s a rich and powerful man in this city. He’s coming after us and we find it’s best if we simply return the girl to her home and move on.”

“Best for whom?” I ask, anger welling up inside of me.

“Best for everyone.”

“Not for her. Not for me.”

“Please, see reason here. The Syndicate can’t risk exposure. It would be... catastrophic. For everyone involved.”

Veiled threats and ass covering, that’s all she’s here to do. The bastards want to steal Aria away from me and to return her to her bastard father, the very man that she ran away from in the first place. I can’t imagine that her father actually wants her back, whoever he is.

There’s something else here, a piece of this puzzle that I can’t see. I don’t know what’s being held back, but I can sense it, just there, just out of my grasp.

“What’s his name?” I ask Lucille.

She pauses. “Who?”

“Her father. Who is he?”

“I can’t tell you.”

I feel a stab run down my veins. It’s a flash of insight that I only understand at a gut level. The idea isn’t even conscious yet, but I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins. Cold terror runs through me.

He’s a powerful man... the kind of man that would come after her if it suits him, not because he wants to... and her last name. I think back to that conversation that night.

My face drains of color. Lucille looks concerned. “Ethan? Mr. Locks? Are you okay?”

I grab my cup of tea and drink it down. It’s not strong enough, though. I stand and quickly walk into the kitchen where I pour myself a double whisky and slam it back.

Lucille follows me, concern clear on her face. “It’s not that bad,” she says. “The Syndicate doesn’t blame you. And her father says he’ll back down if she’s returned.”

“What’s his name?” I ask her again.

Taylor. Her last name is Taylor.

“I can’t say it. Please, don’t ask me again.”

She was born rich. Her father was an asshole.

“Say it,” I whisper. “Say his name.” I feel like I’m breaking into a thousand pieces, some angry, some confused, some willing to destroy everything to get what I want.

“His name is Taylor,” she says. “Richard Taylor.”

I feel it like a knife to my gut.

I can’t process this. I can barely think.

A new voice cuts into my mind

“Ethan?”

I look up slowly. Aria is standing in the living room a few feet from Lucille.

“What’s going on?” Aria asks.

Jenkins comes in from the back room suddenly, breathless. “I’m sorry, sir. I told her to stay in her room.” He walks quickly toward her.

“Stop,” I say to Jenkins. “Please leave.”

He pauses, looks at me, and then nods. He disappears back into the other room.

Lucille turns toward Aria. “Honey. I’m with The Syndicate. I was sent here to take you home.”

“Why?” she asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” she says gently. “You did nothing wrong. Something came up though. And we need to bring you back.”

“But I don’t want to go,” she says. “I want to finish my contract.” She looks at me, pleading, and I don’t understand.

“You’ll still have to come with me,” Lucille says.

“NO.”

The two women look at me, clearly surprised. I practically shouted it and I look down at the glass in my hand. My knuckles are white.

“Aria,” I say, getting some control. “Please go back upstairs.”

“But—“ She starts, but I cut her off.

“Go,” I say. “Now.”

She hesitates then turns and quickly walks away. She disappears up the staircase and out of sight.

Lucille looks back to me. “Mr. Locks, we need her. I can’t leave until she’s ready to go.”

“Get out,” I say quietly to her.

“Excuse me?”

“Get out of my house.” I feel like I’m regaining some control now, though my edges are all frayed.

“I can’t do that. I don’t think you understand.”

“I understand,” I growl at her. I walk from behind the counter and move toward her. She backs up, fear on her face at whatever she sees in my expression.

“You want to give her back to that fucking monster. And the worst part is, he doesn’t give a fuck about her. It’s just one more slap in my face.”

She tries to protest, but I hold up a hand. She continues to back down the hallway and toward the door.

“No, don’t argue with me. Richard Taylor is a piece of shit, and he won’t take this away from me. You can go back and tell your Syndicate to go fuck themselves. Aria is mine, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

She stops in front of the door and stares at me, regaining some composure. “You’re making a mistake,” she says.

“Get out,” I repeat. “You can have her back when our contract is finished.”

“Very well.” Lucille turns, opens the door, and then leaves.

I walk back into the kitchen, feeling numb. I pour myself another drink and sip it, standing in front of the sink.

The world feels like it’s filtering in through a very small keyhole. Dimly I’m aware of things, but they flit and shake through my consciousness, though nothing sticks.

What is real? How can I ever see the truth now? So much is tangled up in this. Could this have been Richard’s plan from the start?

Who is Aria Taylor?

I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie as I feel myself perched on the edge of something. The only things keeping me from tipping over is anger.

Anger threatens to rip everything else apart. I won’t let Richard win, that fucking bastard. He won’t get the best of me. I won’t let a man like that win.

I don’t know who she is, but Aria doesn’t deserve it.

I clench my glass and knock the drink back, mind buzzing.