A week later, she arrived at the theatre to be greeted by yellow tulips along with the wild roses in pink and red she got from Ralph and Jake each night before her show. She was not sure whom the yellow tulips were from since she had never gotten flowers from an admirer other than Jake and Ralph. They smelled wonderful if not as intoxicating as her beloved roses which she immediately stuck in a vase until after the show.

Jake was trying to get Anne to move into a house instead of staying in her apartment, which was too small for visitors, but so far, Anne had refused. She felt too indebted to them already with all the fine gowns and the accessories to go with them, both necessary and completely unnecessary such as the 32 carat diamond pendant necklace she received from Jake the previous night. They were trying so hard to woo her that she was not sure if she was comfortable with the whole mistress thing. She loved the finer things in life, but Anne was used to living alone, her parents passed away when she was sixteen and immediately taking to the stage to feed herself. She was twenty-three now. She loved the devotion and pleasure they gave but was not sure of the showering of gifts that came with it. She loved being part of something.

Turning back to the yellow tulips, she wondered once again whom they were from. Little did she know she was about to find out.

Tonight’s show was fun. She was able to play a wicked villainess who sang a lament at the end before she dies. Laments were soulful, they were the best thing to sing when feeling down, not that she was feeling down exactly. Just contemplative. Anne was curious about the tulips among other things. Like whether she should move like her handsome and sexy men wanted. She was sure they would get their way eventually but she was not sure how long she should draw this whole thing out. She did not want to seem eager for them to spend money on her for in truth she was not. She wanted the soul deep connect of their little tête-à-tête. If only they could be like a family, taking care of each other instead of only a relentless pursuit of pleasure. However, that was not meant to be, Anne thought as she gathered up her hair into hairpins to head home. Today she was not seeing either Jake or Ralph because they had plans so she was headed to her lonely house, which she had not seen in days. Standing from her vanity, she donned her navy pelisse and left out the stage door. Not expecting to see anyone. She had not had any admirers since she started seeing her men, which was a relief since they were not worth her time. Tonight however she was surprised to see Baron Edgecroft waiting at the door, a solitary yellow tulip in hand. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was loneliness after so many nights of devoted attention but she approached the Baron and said hello.

“How are you this evening Baron?” she asked, plastering on a smile.

“Better now that I have spoken to you,” he said, holding forth the yellow tulip for her to take. She added it to her bouquet, the three colors of yellow, pink, and red not exactly contrasting but looking strange to her just the same.

Wishing to leave at once, a small feeling of dread appearing in her stomach, Anne stepped back from the Baron, but he only followed. “Would you like an escort home, Ms. Van Rae? Or should I call you Anne?”

“Ms. Van Rae is fine,” she said with a wane smile. “And I would enjoy the company, thank you,” she said, despite the growing dread.

They left together, Anne leading slightly as they turned toward her home. It was only a quarter hour’s walk, but it felt much longer. The walk was quiet while neither of them spoke. This was obviously because they had nothing in common. When they drew up in front of her apartment, she began to turn toward the Baron in order to bid him goodnight when he was suddenly upon her. A smooth, clearly hardly worked hand muffled her terrified scream. She immediately began fighting, blindly thrashing against the iron grip that held her as she was swept into a small side alley.

“Shut up.” The Baron said as he jerked her, and then shoved her hard against the wall. He never seemed like an overly large man, wearing overly bright clothing, and walking with his mahogany cane. Anne heard it fall to the ground. Now he was everywhere, overwhelming her with his presence seeming giant like in stature.

She barely caught herself in time from sprawling head first into the wall she had been shoved toward. She looked up in wide-eyed terror to see Edgecroft’s glassy eyes. Clearly, he was not in his right mind. A sickening knowing promptly spiraled down the pit of her stomach, paralyzing her. She knew what was coming; this walk had been a ruse.

“You want this,” Edgecroft slurred as he pressed her up against the alley wall harshly. Struggling for calm, Anne swallowed hard. She was shaking uncontrollably. Her chest heaved with fear. She tried to back away, sliding along the brick wall. He stopped her, bracing his manicured hand on the wall to block her path. With his other hand, he stroked her hair. He smiled.

She sobbed out loud.

“You are sharing yourself with two friends on a nightly basis. It would seem only fair that you would share yourself with me as well. Everything will be just fine, as long as you give me what I came for.”

“No,” she uttered.

“Whore, like you have a choice. What kind of slut gives herself to two men at once?” he cried out hoarsely, lowering his stinking mouth and trying to kiss her.

Wrenching her face away from him, she shrieked but he stifled the sound by slapping his hand once again over her mouth. She fought against his surprising strength, her mind refusing to accept that this was happening. That she was really being attacked in the worst way imaginable. Then his hand, curled around her throat and he ground himself against her, his breath growing raspy in her ear. She grimaced in terror and her stomach churned with nausea as tears welled in her eyes.

“Nice and easy now, be still,” he growled in a gravelly voice. “You know you want this. You practically asked for it.” He pinned her hands above her head.

The details of the next few minutes she would never recall fully. The dark world blurred and slowed and all she could hear was her loudly beating heart roaring in her ears. She sobbed and stared up toward the stars, the tiny pinpricks of light the only light in that dark alley. His thrusting pierced her wild, black hysteria as he pinned her against the cold, cutting brick. Tearing her clothing, grabbing, and hurting her. Then suddenly pain beyond any horror she could imagine, pain such as she had never known flashed before her stricken eyes, blinding her sharply like a knife in her belly. The baron thrust erratically before suddenly sagging against her, gasping, and his grip slackening. She fought her way free with a scream and ran towards home.

“You tell anyone and I’ll take it out on you worse than this,” he shouted, grabbing hold of her again and lifting his cane from the ground. He brought the cane down repeatedly, causing blood to cover her face and body. Suddenly he released her, walking away into the darkness without a care in the world. As if, he had not just ripped her apart from the inside out.

Blind with crying and the blood that trickled down her face, clothes torn, hair disheveled, she ran to her apartment using the street lamps to guide her. She ran up to her room, shut, and locked the door behind her, sagging against it. What was she to do? Where was she to turn? All she knew was that she could not stay here, so close to where she was attacked. She grabbed a bag and packed two outfits and a nightgown before walking out the door. She just needed a few days. A few days to heal and figure out what she was going to do next.