I locked the door with trembling hands.

I knew it was silly to be afraid. It was only a car.

Yes, it was a Bugatti Veyron.

Yes, there are only four hundred and fifty of them in existence.

Yes, there was a chance it could be Luke was behind the wheel, but there was also a chance that it was one of four hundred and forty-nine other people.

Besides, if it was Luke, if he had recognized me, there was no way in hell he would have kept on driving. Unless he wasn’t alone.

Due to the heavy tinting on the windows, it was impossible to see the features of who was inside that car. But the gold chain hanging from the rearview make my stomach flip.

But, I told myself, trying to calm my racing heart, the Bugatti that Luke had taken me for a ride in was white. This one was black.

Surely, he wouldn’t have spent another two and a half million dollars on a second Bugatti, no matter how much money he’d earned.

Who needed two Bugatti’s?

Right?

The chances of Luke being behind the wheel of that car was slim to none. I had to believe that if I wanted to keep breathing. Because if I let myself believe it was him, I’d have to allow this panic attack that was creeping up to blossom into a full on freak out.

“Don’t freak out,” I told myself, as I peeked out the window. The car kept driving, disappearing around the corner. I took a deep breath, and then another, shaking my head.

It was this neighborhood.

Everyone probably had Bugattis.

They were common up here.

I was just being silly.

No reason to be scared.

Not even the right color.

I checked the locks on all the doors and windows, putting Alex down for his nap. Chester sensed my mood, I think, and he followed me through the house, staying right at my heels.

I grabbed my phone, suddenly feeling the urge to hear Jason’s voice. I waited in the kitchen, my fingers drumming on the black and gold marble of the kitchen counter as his phone rang and rang.

No answer.

I sighed when I heard his voicemail answer. I waited for the beep and tried to control the shaking in my voice.

“Hey, it’s me. Um. Daisy. Everything’s fine. I just saw this car. I mean, I know it’s nothing, probably nothing, at least. I mean, we’re safe in the house and all. I think it’s just me, I don’t know. Anyway, I just wanted to hear your voice. See what time you’d be home today. You’re probably in surgery, saving someone’s life or something. Shit, I hope I didn’t interrupt. Anyway, like I said, we’re fine. Locked in the house. Just call when you can.”

I hung up, shaking my head. I’d sounded like a blubbering fool.

I looked around the kitchen, doing an exercise that my therapist had taught me to do when I was panicking.

“Look at five things,” I said, doing my best to breathe deeply. “Table. Chair. Fridge. Dog. Dishwasher.”

Everything was in its place, everything was calm and orderly.

I was okay.

I put my hand over my racing heart, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Everything’s fine,” I said. Chester looked up at me, cocking his head.

“We’re fine,” I repeated, my head spinning as the memories washed over me. “We’re just fine…”

“Want to go for a ride?” Luke asked me.“I got a new car. It’s pretty cool.”

Looking up in surprise, I crossed my arms over my bare breasts. We’d just had sex and he stood over me, sliding his jeans over his hips.

“What kind of car?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Besides, you probably never heard of it. You want to go for a ride or not?”

“Sure,” I shrugged off the sheets and stood up. He came up behind me as I grabbed my dress off the chair beside my bed. His arms circled my waist and he pulled me into him. The rippling muscles of his chest pressed against my back, the rough denim of his jeans scratching against my bare ass. He reached up, gripping a handful of my breasts and pressed his still hard cock into me.

“You’re really taking care of yourself, Scarlet,” he murmured.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I try. I have a lot of time to exercise.”

“I’m sorry I’m not around much,” he said. “I don’t have enough time to give you the attention you deserve.”

“It’s okay,” I said, silently saying a prayer of gratitude for that very fact.

“Don’t you miss me?” he asked, turning me around. He reached up, pinching my nipple playfully.

“Of course I do,” I said. “But I’m glad I have so much time to take care of myself properly for you.”

“Good answer,” he winked. I smiled, complacent as always.

“Let me get dressed,” I said, pulling away. His pinching hurt and I’d had enough of his creepy hands on my bare flesh for one day.

“Let’s go somewhere nice. Wear your highest heels and your shortest skirt. Get dolled up a little for me.”

“Okay, sure. Give me a few minutes.”

“No panties,” he said, winking. “I’m not done with you today.”

“Promise?” I asked, flirtatiously.

He laughed and slapped my ass as I walked away.

“That’s a threat,” he growled.

My skin crawled at his words.

He was rough. Sometimes, he was too rough.

When I complained to Ruby, she told me that was what he paid so much money for. I didn’t dare complain to him, or let him know he was hurting me. Maybe if I had, he would have stopped or at least lightened up a little, but I was too proud to complain to him. I didn’t want him to know how much he hurt me.

It was obvious he enjoyed it and I didn’t want to give him that pleasure.

He was buying my body, not my soul.

After I got dressed in a sparkly silver mini-dress and a pair of sleek black pumps with heels so tall I could hardly walk, we walked out to the parking garage.

I couldn’t suppress my squeal when I saw the car.

“A Bugatti Veyron!” I shouted. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You know your cars, Scarlet?”

“I know a Bugatti Veyron when I see one, that’s for sure,” I said, quickly trying to hide my shock. Luke was the most famous MMA fighter in the country, of course he’d buy a car like this.

“I just bought her,” he said, lifting his chin proudly. I cringed at his sentence, the words hitting a little too close to home.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, running my hand along her sleek all-white curves.

“Well, get in,” he said, pushing a button. The doors opened smoothly and I sank into the black and white leather seats. I raked my eyes over the dashboard, watching in awe as Luke started it up with a loud, powerful whir of the motor.

Hanging from the rearview mirror was a gold chain with a pendant hanging from it. I reached up and inspected it.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“St. Michael, patron saint of warriors. He’s my good luck charm.”

“Does a man like you need luck?”

“Not really,” he laughed, shaking his head. He pulled the car out of the garage and within seconds we were flying down the streets.

“Where are we going?” I asked. Rarely did we leave my apartment. I hated the fact that I was happy to be dressed up and going out, but I did, even if it was with him. This car made it a little easier to digest.

Luke was in a rare good mood, too.

If this wasn’t all so twisted, it might appear as if we were just a normal couple out on a normal date. I longed to experience normalcy, but I’d mostly given up on it a long time ago. Ruby kept me under her thumb and somehow she knew each time I left home without telling her. I’d even tried to run away twice, but both times, she’d found me, had her goons beat me up and locked me back in my apartment within hours.

These days, I didn’t dare leave.

These rare dates with Luke and weekly trips to the grocery store were the only time I stepped out at all anymore. It was easier that way.

“Do you like sushi?” he asked.

“I’ve never had it.”

“No? Well, let’s fix that.”

He drove into downtown, his two and a half million dollar car slinking past the endless homeless camps that lined the sidewalks of steel and glass skyscrapers. My mood fell immediately as I gazed out the window, my heart breaking for each of the clearly physically and mentally ill people we passed. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I didn’t dare tell Luke that.

I’d have gone anywhere with him, I was that desperate to get out of the house, but witnessing all of the misery on the streets was giving me such a mind-fuck, and I found myself thankful for what I had, which was even more of a twisted thought.

I had nothing. I owned nothing, outside of that one stupid plastic glass slipper keychain my mother had bought me at Disneyland. I’d kept it, unable to throw it away, even if it was basically rage-inducing at this point. It was the only thing I had to tell me I was a real person, that I had a life before being auctioned off to the highest bidder as a slave, basically.

And here I was thanking my lucky stars I had a roof over my head, at least.

Maybe these people were happier than me, I thought. They had freedom, in a sense, something I never had.

I couldn’t help but wonder what that felt like…

A few minutes later, Luke pulled up to the valet in front of the Nines Hotel, near Pioneer Square.

“We’re going to Departure?” I asked, my eyes wide.

Departure is the trendy restaurant on top of the hotel and I’d seen pictures of it online, never expecting I’d ever have the opportunity to eat there.

“Have you been?”

I burst out laughing.

“No, of course not,” I said, shaking my head.

“Great. You’ll love it,” he said, as he slipped out of the car. He ran over and opened my door, reaching for my hand and helping me out of the car. The valet reached for the keys and Luke shook his head.

“No fucking way, mate,” he said. “Leave her right there.”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded, backing away after Luke slipped him a hundred dollar bill. He grabbed my hand and we headed inside.

The elevator was mirrored and we stood next to each other, staring at our reflection.We both had red hair and while he was dressed much more casually than I was, it didn’t matter. Wealth oozed off of him and as soon as the elevators opened, and we were greeted by the hostess, it was obvious that his demeanor, not to mention his fame, demanded respect.

“Welcome to Departure,” the hostess said. “We have your table waiting, Mr. Sullivan.”

He’d not even told her his name, but with an unforgettable face and an undefeated record as the world’s most famous MMA fighter, I guess that wasn’t necessary. They sat us at a table by the window and I did my best not to gawk.

The tall vaulted ceiling was mostly windows. Lining the entire south side of the restaurant, floor to ceiling glass doors opened up to two huge balconies, with low-slung seats gathered around various fire pits outside. All of the customers, inside and out, looked as if they’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine and when my eyes turned to the staff, I wondered if they’d been recruited from model agencies.

Everyone was perfect.

Perfectly groomed, perfectly dressed, with perfect smiles and perfect bodies.

I marveled at their flawless appearances, wondering what was really going on inside each of them. Did they think I was one of them?

I was just as perfectly groomed, perfectly dressed, Ruby made sure I only bought the best clothes and insisted I kept every inch of my body well-maintained. When you had money, it was easy.

The one thing I didn’t share was the careless smiles dancing across their faces. I sat stone-faced, taking it all in. I may look the part, but rarely did I encounter a chance to walk the walk.

This place was way out of my league.

I sat with my hands in my lap, taking cues from Luke. I’d always imagined him as having unshakable confidence, because I’d never seen a crack in his armor.

But now, watching him look around and then scan the menu, just as I was, he opened up, allowing a tiny glimmer into his soul.

He leaned over, his hand snaking around the back my neck as he pulled me close. He whispering in my ear, his breath brushing against my ear like velvet.

“Places like this always make me uncomfortable,” he pulled back a bit, smiling crookedly and winking, before continuing. “I never know which bloody fork to use, or I’m afraid I’m going to break a glass or some shit. And everyone’s so goddamn beautiful and rich, aren’t they? Look at these fuckers, like they were born with those fucking perfect teeth? I paid thirty grand for mine.”

I looked at him in surprise, speechless. I laughed and leaned into him, letting my guard down a little. I desperately needed companionship and if he was the only one available, so be it. I pushed my shame aside.

“Fuck ‘em,” I whispered, flashing him a sincere smile, as I reached over and grabbed a handful of his cock. “They aren’t any better than us.”

He cocked his head a little and smiled back, nodding slowly.

“Besides,” I said, squeezing. “They don’t have this cock. And, I bet none of them drive a fucking Bugatti.”

He laughed, a hearty, loud laugh that turned the heads of those sitting around us. One by one, they began to recognize him and before long, our table was inundated with autograph hounds and selfie seekers and I was putting my hand back in my lap as I watched the show.

Luke put on his confident smile, hiding his annoyance and vulnerability behind his hardened gaze.

But I knew it was there now.

I’d witnessed it.

Even the most confident fighter in the world had his weak spot.

I have to say, it made me feel good. Why should he get to be unshakable? Why should anyone get that privilege?

Dinner flew by in a flash, the adoring fans finally trickling away until it was just the two of us and a huge array of empty sushi plates in from of us. I’d eaten most of it, gobbling it up like ice cream.

I marveled at the feeling of the fresh fish practically melting in my mouth, the explosion of flavors in the sake. By the time we were done, I was full and tipsy and Luke was smiling at me across the table.

“How’d you end up here?” he asked, his voice low and quiet and serious.

“You drove me here in your fabulous car,” I said, trying not to giggle.

“You know what I mean,” he replied, his green eyes squinting at me. “What’s your story, Scarlet? I’ve never asked.”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear all that.”

“If I didn’t want to know I wouldn’t have asked.”

I stared over at him, the bustling restaurant swirling around us. I shook my head.

“My mom gave me up,” I said, shrugging. “Sold me to some guy. It was a million years ago. The rest is history.”

“Jesus.”

I nodded, doing my best to muster a smile as I put my hand on his thigh.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Luke.”

He smiled over at me and I ignored the pity I saw in his eyes.

“I’ve had a great night and I don’t want to end it talking about all of that shit, if that’s okay with you,” I said, smiling at him. He nodded and grabbed my hand.

“I understand,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said. “Now, I can’t wait to get another ride in that car.”

“Not just yet,” he said. He squeezed my hand, pulling me up from the table. “Let’s go outside and check out the view.”

The balcony was one of the best of the city.

“This is amazing. It’s better than the view up at the rose garden.”

“I love that view,” he said, his eyes darkening. “My Ma use to take me up there.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s nice.”

He shrugged, shaking his head.

“Sounds like my Ma wasn’t much better than yours,” he said, turning me towards him.

I looked up at him, into his sad, green eyes — another crack.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I already knew a little bit of his story from reading about him online. Rarely did he open up to me over the years, so I learned what I could from articles. His father died when he was a baby and his mother got into drugs and prostitution, leaving him alone for long periods of time and forcing him to raise himself. He’d later become a blacksmith and stumbled onto the MMA scene completely unknown, fighting his way to the top of the ranks quickly. Even after many in-depth interviews, the gory details of his upbringing were vaguely reported.

“It is what it is, right?” he said, turning back to the view. We stood at the edge of the balcony, staring over the railing and down at Pioneer Square below. It was late, the lights of buildings and streetlights sparkling in the darkness, as hoards of drunk tourists and locals strolled along the downtown sidewalks below.

“It is what it is,” I agreed, nodding slowly.

What an odd pair we were, I remember thinking. Two strangers entangled in what was a business arrangement for one and an imprisonment for the other, tentatively reaching out to each other, attempting to make some sort of human connection in our shared misery.

We were nothing alike, no matter where we’d come from.

He was free.

I was not.

He turned back to me, searching my eyes as his sparkled from the lights overhead.

“Daisy, you’re a beautiful girl, you know.”

“Thank you,” I said. As if that meant anything at all, I thought.

“You’d make someone a great wife.”

I burst out laughing.

“I’m a whore,” I said, shaking my head.

“Don’t call yourself that,” he said. “I don’t think of you that way.”

“How do you think of me?”

He stopped himself, pausing as he gazed down at me, his hands on my arms.

“I just think of you as mine, I guess.”

I nodded, understanding. Of course. I was merely a possession.

Like his car, or his house, or his fortune…

I mustered a smile, pondering why I’d ever imagined we’d be able to connect. To be human with one another.

“Yes, I’m yours,” I mumbled, turning back and looking over the railing. His hands landed on my hips, lifting my skirt as he stepped behind me.

Within moments, I felt him enter me. I spread my thighs, letting him take me. I didn’t dare turn my head to see if anyone else was watching, not because I cared if others saw us, but because I didn’t want him to see the tears that were running down my face.