EVERYTHING WAS WRONG.

The sour fur on my tongue, the dehydration headache behind my eyes, the utter silence of being in a house instead of a yacht—right down to the horror of being imprisoned yet again.

Old habits had instantly kicked into gear the moment I’d awoken a couple of hours ago.

My fingers craved a pen to write to No One. My voice switched from newfound gift to mute preservation. My skin crawled beneath my ballgown, fearing that at any moment, Alrik would walk in and strip me from it. That I’d be made to live life all over again naked and silent and terrified.

In fairness to the space, it was nothing like the stark white mansion I’d been imprisoned in before.

The atmosphere here was elegant and inviting. The bed soft and pillow filled, the bathroom stocked with delicious smelling shampoos and conditioners. It wasn’t a jail…more like a hotel suite, dripping in understated wealth and femininity.

But no matter what illusions the soft silver rugs and duck egg blue couches tried to paint, it couldn’t ease my panic. The walls kept me against my will. The windows barricaded me from fleeing. This place wasn’t my friend, so I didn’t treat it as such.

Even though my past drenched me with rules of kneeling and submitting and begging for mercy, I’d investigated and torn apart every inch. I’d marched to the floor-to-ceiling windows, rattled the panes, and searched for a weak spot to shatter and jump from the three-story cage.

When that failed, I ran to the door and jiggled the handle, inserting pins from my tumbled down hair and doing my best to pick the lock.

I hadn’t succeeded.

But it didn’t matter.

Clutching to hope and ignoring desperation, I’d thrown up rugs for trap doors.

I’d ripped open drawers for weapons.

I’d demolished the bed, looking for anything that could save me.

And nothing.

The suite remained soft and romantic—almost apologetic for keeping me trapped in its refinement.

Stress pounded my heart, reminding me of another time when I’d flown like a wild captured bird in a tiny prison.

Déjà vu of the week’s spent at the QMB hotel waiting to be sold made me dry-mouthed and panicky. I’d gone over every nook and cranny of that room, and the only thing I’d found was a chewed-on pencil.

No One had been born from that lucky find. My mind had found a way to save itself even if it couldn’t save my body. But in here, paper and pens and make-up and books and everything a normal, cosy bedroom should have existed.

There was nothing to say what my future held other than I’d woken up in a strange dimension where Elder had been shot and I’d been stolen.

Why?

Why was I here?

Where was here?

What could I do to leave here?

One thing was for sure, I wouldn’t sit and write notes to No One like before.

This time, I would fight tooth and fucking claw to get free. I flat out refused to be sold again or inducted into yet another twisted ownership.

I wasn’t a belonging or broken toy anymore. The French man who’d kidnapped me—believing he was my rescuer and living in fantasy denial—would curse the day he’d torn my happy new world apart.

He’ll pay.

My God, I’ll make him pay.

Somewhere deep inside, a furnace cranked hot. My past fears—doing their best to drag me into the darkness from which I’d crawled—morphed into something drastic and fierce.

Consequences no longer mattered.

Terror at fighting back and earning retribution no longer factored.

If I died while refusing to accept this new reality, then so be it.

I was no longer afraid.

Of death.

Of pain.

Of monsters.

All I feared was Elder and if he’d died never knowing my fate.

I’m sorry if I get myself killed while trying to escape, Elder, but if you’re dead too…then I guess, I’ll see you soon.

The angry heat in my belly climbed up my spine, threatening rage-filled tears.

I didn’t let them fall.

I couldn’t dwell on Elder’s aliveness or death…not yet.

With my arms locked around my waist, I came to a reluctant stop in front of the large windows. I glowered at the view, despising the quaint garden lovingly manicured with hedges and fruit trees. Birds flittered left and right, uncaring that this place was home to a beast who’d broken apart true love.

The crinkle of my ballgown as I hugged myself broke my heart.

The silky satin embellished with its crimson and navy battling-bruising colours hadn’t been stripped from me even as I’d lain unconscious. The bodice remained torn and held together thanks to Elder’s hastily applied cravat.

Beneath the heavy finery, I was sticky with old sweat and sex, and my bare feet were cold. I wouldn’t deny that while ransacking the bathroom, I’d eyed up the shower in longing.

But what was the point in washing when I had nothing to put on afterward? I would never wear the simple clothing hanging in multiple sizes in the wardrobe. I wouldn’t accept any form of gifts from this kidnapper.

Alrik had denied me clothes, yet whoever this new asshole was offered me dresses as if I were some kind of Barbie doll.

Not going to happen.

I would remain dirty. I would hope to God I stunk to high heaven if he ever thought of touching me. I would embrace my sex-tangled hair and smudged make-up and residue of Elder’s pleasure on my inner thighs because I didn’t belong to this new bastard.

I belonged to myself.

I belonged to Elder.

But his name isn’t Elder…

The thought came from nowhere, plucked from the mayhem of what’d happened that night. My fingernails dug into my bodice.

Miki.

The Chinmoku had called him Miki.

Elder had been upfront about having another name, just as I did. In fact, the similarities between us were mind boggling when I took a step back and compared notes: we had lost our fathers. We had a mother who wasn’t perfect. We lived a life less ordinary than others.

And the most terrifying similarity of all? In some laughable, strange twist of fate?

I was named Minnie Mouse after my dad’s watch present, and Elder…is called Miki.

I shook my head in disbelief.

Mickey and Minnie.

Could there be any more outlandish hints that fate had been the driving force bringing us together? That our meeting wasn’t just opportune or spontaneous? Life had pushed us together for a purpose. For a reason.

I’d written to him for years as No One. And even before he was No One, we shared the same pairing of names, forever binding us to a beloved Disney couple.

And despite all that written-in-the-stars kind of thing, we’ve been torn apart!

I laughed out loud, looking at the ceiling. Exasperated, frustrated, mad, sad, confused.

I was every spectrum of emotion but finally one was missing.

Fear.

Every trace had vanished.

Now, I was angry.

So, so angry.

I pitied whoever came to touch me because they’d be leaving with no fingers.

The click of a lock whipped my head around just as the door opened and a woman in a cute black and white maid’s uniform appeared.

Her eyes shot to the dishevelled bed, searching. When she didn’t find me in the torn coverlets, her gaze quickly tracked across the shoved aside furniture and skew-whiff rugs to where I stood in my cascading bruised gown, looking just as rumpled as the rest of the room.

She swallowed, flicking a small smile while questions decorated her pretty face. Round nose, wide eyes, neat and tidy brown hair. She carried a small tray with a plate laden with a thick sandwich and crisps. “Ah, you’re awake.”

Two scenarios I could choose.

One, I could stay where I was and allow her to call the shots. I could play meek and lull her into thinking I wouldn’t fight back. I could be the Pimlico Alrik had created.

Or two.

And I like this one much better.

I could attack now.

I could show her that they’d stolen the wrong girl. That I’d lived this life, and I absolutely refused to live it again. I didn’t care women were involved in this instance. I didn’t care her smile was kind and encouraging. I didn’t care that the vibe of this house was welcoming instead of torturous.

I didn’t care.

All I cared about was Elder and getting back to him. Of finding him hopefully alive and allowing fate to give us what it so obviously wanted.

I was done with this nonsense.

I’m done letting others dictate my life.

Gathering my skirts in clawed fists, I swooped toward her. My bare feet brushed silently, winging me quickly, transforming her smile into a shock of worry.

She back-stepped, crockery clinking on her tray.

Trapping her against the wall by the open door, I snarled, “Let me go. Right now.”

She held up the tray as a barrier, shooting a quick glance at me, the exit, then to the sideboard beside her. “Before we work on your demands, can I put this down?”

Her stubborn, unflustered response rattled me a little. Not used to being the aggressor, I struggled to stay curt and rude rather than step out of her personal space and apologise.

I trembled with right and wrong, hoping like hell I hid the battle it took to stand up to her. “I don’t care what you do. Just move away from the door and I won’t hurt you.”

Nodding as if she was used to violent outbursts from ballgowned prisoners, she carefully placed the unwanted food onto the table and held out her palms in pacification. “It’s okay. No one is going—”

“Stop it!” I snapped. Her soft, sweet voice wriggled through my anger, begging me to believe in kindness and not cruelty. She was the worst kind of prison guard as she made me feel like the bad guy for demanding my release.

She couldn’t be permitted to brainwash me or to steal my anger when I’d worked so hard to find it.

Everything I did from now on was to get back to Elder. Having someone to fight toward gave me another shot of courage and rage, and I did something I never thought I was capable of.

I grabbed her around the throat.

I snatched her like Alrik had snatched me so many times before and squeezed. My tightening fingers hurt the tendons in my wrist, screaming partly in regret for laying my hand on her and partly in annoyance that I didn’t have enough strength to kill her.

Swallowing my remorse and nausea, I hissed, “Keep your lies. Keep your food. No one is going to touch me. Not you. Not the man who stole me. No one.” Ignoring the muscle spasm in my forearm from squeezing, I forced myself to be ruthless even when I wanted to let go and sprint to the other side of the room. Prior conditioning and past slavery were so, so hard to overcome.

But I did it.

Because of Elder.

Slightly out of breath, I trembled. “I’m going to walk out of here. Do you hear me?”

Her throat worked beneath my fingers. “I hear you.”

“Good.”

I didn’t know the next stage of my plan. I hadn’t thought this through.

I really should have.

At least the door was open and the first stage of my escape was in motion.

“Come.” Jerking her away from the wall, I spun her around and grabbed the neat bun at the base of her skull.

I couldn’t continue to strangle her from this position, but I yanked hard on her hair so she knew I would find some other way to maim. “Show me the way out.”

Shame coated my insides. Loathing that I’d stepped into Alrik’s shoes almost made me let go.

Almost.

I’d redeem myself once I was free. I’d repent for hurting another. But not right now.

“You know…you don’t have to do this.” The girl stepped forward thanks to my pressure. “It’s not what you think. We’re not going to hurt—”

I jerked her again, earning a pained squeak. “I’m not listening. I’m not interested in your lies. You’re showing me the way out of here, and that’s it.” I pushed her faster.

“You’re not being held against your will, you know. You can just—”

I yanked on her hair again, shutting her up.

I had no intention of letting her finish any sentence because each time she talked, my stomach somersaulted and my fingers begged to unwind from her bun.

“Could’ve fooled me.” I shoved her into the corridor, taking swift notes of space and money and rooms branching off with equally nice boudoirs. “The door was locked. If I’m not being held against my will, why couldn’t I leave when I wanted to?”

Why are you asking her questions?

Shut up and focus.

“We do that at the beginning. We never know how mentally broken our guests will be. It’s for our safety and theirs.”

If she was so worried about her safety, why deliver food on her own? Why not have a guard to defend her and stop me from doing exactly what I was doing?

Ignoring those unhelpful questions, I marched her quicker. “Guests?” I laughed coldly, eyeing up the staircase in the distance. “Funny word for captives, don’t you think?”

“You’re not our captive. You were a captive. Not anymore.”

“Wrong. I was in love, and some asshole didn’t listen to me.”

Her momentum stalled. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused.” Pushing her again, I never took my attention off the midnight blue carpeted staircase. I wanted to leave. My skin crawled with the need. My heart panted for freedom. She was my shield and weapon all in one.

“I think there’s been some kind of mistake,” my prisoner murmured. “What’s your name?”

We reached the landing and I shoved her down the first steps. “My name isn’t important.”

“Mine’s Suzette.”

I didn’t want to think about her as a girl with a name. I didn’t want to know anything about her other than she was keeping me from finding Elder.

What if he’d drowned when he fell overboard? What if the Phantom staff had been murdered by the Chinmoku? What if everything I knew was gone all because some asshole decided to claim me for himself?

The penny-diamond bracelet Elder had given me tinkled on my wrist, fissuring my heart with worry.

I refused to imagine him dead. I kept the picture of him alive and happy in my mind. But as my dress whispered behind me, slithering down steps to a foyer I didn’t recognise, I struggled to swallow back heavy washing grief.

“Did you hear me? My name is Suzette and I’m—”

“Good for you. I don’t care what your name is.” I injected venom into my tone. “If you’re trying to make me see you as a person and not a tool to get out of here, it’s not going to work.”

“No.” She shook her head, forcing my hand to move with her. “I’m just trying to figure this out.”

“Well, figure it out silently.”

God, how long are these stairs?

They meandered around in a circle, imposing and romantic, the perfect backdrop for some epic love scene.

My mind taunted me with images of Elder before he was bloody and shot. He’d been so dashing and handsome in his tux. I wanted to hold that image forever and delete the god-awful splash as he flew overboard with a bullet wedged in his body.

My anger cauldroned into sick rage. I twisted my victim’s hair.

This is your fault.

“Ow.” She squirmed, trotting down the stairs faster, her hand coming to land over mine in rebuttal. “I’ll help you. You don’t have to hurt me.”

“Give me my freedom and I’ll give you yours. I’ll even apologise.”

I’ll apologise every night for years.

Not taking her hand off mine, she said under her breath, “You’ll owe me more than that when we get downstairs.”

My heart froze. “Why? What’s downstairs?”

“My husband.”

That word.

God, that word.

Elder…Miki…whatever his name was—I’d given him my heart in every way. If I couldn’t have him, then this woman couldn’t have her husband. “I don’t care.”

“You’ll care when he shoots you.”

“If he’s the man who shot the one I love, then good luck to him. I’ll haunt him for the rest of his days for killing any hope I had at happiness.”

Her shoulders slouched as if affected by the raw pain I couldn’t hide. “I don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing to understand.” I wished I’d gagged her. Conversation had the unnerving ability to switch enemy into friend. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Reaching the foyer, I hissed into her ear. “Scream and I’ll hurt you a lot worse. All I want to do is leave.”

My threat wasn’t empty—I would hurt her. How, I had no idea. But really, she could call my bluff because what leverage did I have to stop her?

“He was there last night, you know. Franco is his name. My husband. He said there was a fight.”

So her husband was the henchman of the man who’d grabbed me. The man who’d stood by as I faded from consciousness in the arms of my kidnapper. Her husband had helped Elder by shooting the Chinmoku and then destroyed him by letting his accomplice drug and take me.

My thoughts darkened, no longer regretting hurting her after all the pain I’d endured.

My captive didn’t honour my command to stop talking, her voice gentle but cool. “Franco said Q told you who they were. He told me you were under attack, and they saved you. Why are you doing this if you know who Q is and why he took you?”

“Stop it.” I shook her again, revelling in her small pained gasp.

“But I need to understand. This doesn’t make sense. You should be grateful—”

A strangled laugh fell from my lips. “Grateful? I should be grateful that they shot the man I love and took me, despite both Elder and I begging them to listen. They had it wrong. I didn’t need saving. They were too late for that. Elder was the one who saved me months ago. He found me. Fixed me. Loved me. And then your asshole husband stood by while his friend shot him.”

“But what about the men Franco said were holding you hostage?”

I didn’t want to admit that Q and Franco had arrived at the perfect time. In a way, they’d saved Elder from one death only to deliver him to another. If only they hadn’t shot him, I would’ve got on my knees and thanked them a million times over for arriving and shooting the Chinmoku.

When I didn’t reply, Suzette slouched. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Her apology threw ice water on the sizzling-flames around my heart.

Her fingers squeezed mine still lodged in her hair. “Truly. I know you have no reason to believe me. But he’s never made a mistake before. To be fair…what you’re saying has never happened, so…how was he supposed to know?”

I wanted to stay furious, but I couldn’t ignore the truth vibrating in her tone.

Unlocking my fingers from around her bun, I dropped my hand. Blood rushed to my fingertips, desperate to erase the feel of holding her against her will.

She turned to face me slowly as if I’d bound away or attack her. “I think you should talk to Tess.”

“Tess?” I looked past her to the living room. Mirror images of double doors led to two different rooms. One side of the foyer held a library—dark and brooding with leather and parchment. The other held the welcoming embrace of a comfortable lounge. A dog’s chew toy sat on a pretty purple rug. A discarded cardigan draped over the back of the white leather couch. The smells of something sweet like muffins or cakes billowed from the distant kitchen.

What is this place?

It looked like a family lived here, not some rapist or psychopath.

But how could that be?

The front door opened, bringing a gust of chilly air.

Instantly, I grabbed my hostage again, pulling her as a shield in front of me, my arm locking over her chest. “You!” I hissed as the bulkier man of the two from the worst night of my life appeared.

Suzette’s so-called husband.

His gaze darted to the woman I held then locked onto me, his arm switching from frozen to whip-fast, unholstering the gun at his waist. “Let her go.” Raising the weapon, he aimed at my face. “Right fucking now.”

I ignored the urge to duck, fighting every instinct to stay quiet, to turn mute. That handy tool wouldn’t save me here. I had a voice. I had every intention of screaming until I was listened to and released.

Staying tucked behind Suzette, I seethed, “Let me go and I’ll let her go.”

The man inched closer, letting the front door swing closed behind him. He was handsome in a brutish French way. Dark hair and tight lips, he vibrated with loathing. “You’re not going anywhere unless you give me back my wife.”

Suzette shrugged apologetically, shooting me a look over her shoulder. “Told you he wouldn’t be pleased.” She made no move to leave me, though. She could easily twist out of my hold and leave me wide open for target practice.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she reached behind her and patted my hip with her dainty hand, reassuring me even as the furious man pointed a gun in our direction.

Sighing dramatically, she said in a French accented voice, “I’m fine, mon amour. You don’t need to worry.”

Franco licked his lips like a carnivore. “I don’t need to worry, Suzette? She has you in a chokehold.”

“Yes, and you snatched her from the man she loves. We’re all in the wrong.”

Franco rolled his eyes. “How many times have we heard that story? Leave them with their masters long enough and they all fall in love with the cunts.”

Suzette shook her head. “This one’s different.” She threw me a smile. “I believe her. Enough to listen, at least, instead of undermining her own heart. I suggest you do the same.”

I sucked in a breath as Suzette patted my forearm wrapped around her chest. “It’s okay. Let me go. I’m on your side.”

Trust had never come easy for me.

Trust was something I would forever struggle to gift.

This moment was no different.

I didn’t drop my arm, but I did loosen it slightly. “I’ll only let you go if your husband puts his gun on the side table over there.” I arched my chin at the cute table with a porcelain bowl for keys.

Franco snickered coldly. “While you have your hands on my wife, I’m not putting my gun anywhere.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.” The door behind him mocked me. Freedom existed just beyond it. If I could somehow teleport and appear on the other side, all my problems would be over.

I could run.

Far, far away.

I could find the ocean and swim, swim, swim toward the Phantom…wherever it may be.

Dog claws scrabbled on tiles, followed by a bark.

I didn’t mean to look—I should’ve kept my full attention on Franco in case he made a move, but a fat sausage-shaped bullet charged from the lounge with the half-chewed toy from the rug in its mouth, barrelling into Suzette’s legs.

“Umph!” She stumbled back. “Darn you, Courage!”

I switched from keeping her prisoner to helping her balance.

The crazy dog didn’t pause, galloping up the staircase, its tail wagging and round belly bouncing on every step.

What on earth is going on here?

Husbands and wives.

Cardigans and pets.

“Courage! Don’t you dare run away from me, you little brat!” A pretty Australian voice yelled, followed by running footsteps. “Why can’t you be more like your brothers and sisters?”

Another woman appeared, slamming to a stop as she found our standoff in the foyer.

Instantly, the love and happiness glowing on her face transformed to chilly assessment. Her eyes hardened, flitting quickly to Franco and Suzette. Instead of asking if her friend was okay or demanding the man with the gun execute me, she crossed her arms and slouched against the door frame. A viper coiled to strike but ready to sniff its prey first. “So…what’s going on?”

Suzette shrugged. “Seems there’s been some kind of mistake.”

Franco snarled. “This bitch won’t let her go.”

I snapped, “I just want to leave.”

All three conversations layered in a messy cacophony with no clear message.

“Interesting.” The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. “Let’s focus on what Suzette just said seeing as I like her the most right now.” She smiled quickly at the maid in my hold, revealing years of history and trust and friendship far beyond anything I’d ever experienced. “You’re up. Tell me…what sort of mistake?”

Suzette laughed, instantly at ease and comfortable enough to turn tension into mirth. “A Q mistake, of course. What else?”

“Ah.” Blondie nodded, biting her lip to stay stern. “Can’t say he’s a saint but what’s he done this time?” Locking eyes with me, she added, “Care to tell me…whoever you are?”

When I didn’t take the hint and give her my name, she tried a less subtle approach, her humour evaporating. “Let’s get something straight. My name is Tess, and that is my very best friend you’ve got.”

She pushed off from the door frame, pointing at Franco who hadn’t lowered his gun. “And that’s her husband who is eerily similar to my husband and won’t hesitate to hurt you if you hurt her.”

Padding barefoot, she came closer, circling around me and Suzette as if we were a museum exhibit.

Her jeans fit snug, showing long legs and curvy hips. Her basic grey blouse billowed over full breasts with the hint of lacy bra underneath. She was one of those lucky women who could wear simple clothing but look effortlessly expensive.

“We’re not in the habit of hurting our guests and in return expect the same courtesy. However, if you don’t let my friend go…we’re going to have a serious problem.”

My heart galloped, smoking with indecisions.

I couldn’t let Suzette go because I couldn’t be left vulnerable. I couldn’t keep up my threat to hurt her because she’d proven to be sane amongst all this crazy, and perhaps, just perhaps, this new captivity was nothing like my last.

All I could do was remain in the current status quo and hope no one shot me. “I just want to go home.”

I sounded pitiful.

Heartbroken.

Riddled with enough pain to lower Franco’s gun and send a flicker of concern over Tess’s face.

Suzette leapt to my defence yet again. “From what I can gather, she was a slave but then it got complicated.”

“Complicated is normally the case when dealing with slaves.” Tess pursed her lips. “You know that as well as I do, Suzette.”

Clasping her hands together, Tess stared at me as if I had it all wrong. As if I didn’t know my own brain and heart. As if she pitied the screwed-up existence I’d bought as real. “Look, let’s try this again. We won’t hurt you, but seeing as this is our home, we’re not comfortable with our guests manhandling loved ones. Let Suzette go and I give you my word Franco won’t shoot and I won’t retaliate. All I ask is you come with me and talk.”

“Go with you where?” My arm shook.

The tricks my mother had taught me to read body language fritzed and misfired. I tried to uncover everyone’s true agenda, but there were too many people at once.

Franco was the easiest to read: cold, aloof, mercenary, but undoubtedly in love with the woman I held. Intelligent and not afraid of dirty work judging by how comfortably he held the gun and the way he helped shoot the Chinmoku last night.

Suzette: slender, shorter than me, came across sweet and courteous but a steel rod ran through her spine, hinting at a ferocious temper.

Tess: sharp-witted, courageous, steadfast. She looked at me with displeasure but beneath that lurked a hint of kinship as if she understood my actions more than she should.

“Nowhere special. Just to the kitchen. We’ll have some tea or coffee…maybe a freshly baked blueberry muffin or two. We’ll keep the weapons and threats far away and just talk.” Tess pointed into the room where she’d come from, completely forgetting the dog she’d been chasing. “I think talking is rather important, don’t you?”

“I just want to go back to Elder. If he’s even alive.”

“Elder?”

“The man I love.”

“The man you think you love.” Her face fell with sympathy. “You’re not the first to try to return to her master. A few attempted when they first arrived. Depending on how long you’ve been his property, the mind distorts what’s right and wrong. What’s real.”

I glowered, jerking Suzette closer. “Don’t belittle me and say I don’t know my own heart.”

Tess held up her hands. “I’m not belittling you. I’m telling you what I’ve experienced. However, if you want to tell me your side of the story, then I’ll gladly listen.” Her eyes narrowed. “But first, you must let my friend go and agree not to hurt anyone.”

I snorted at the irony. The way I was holding Suzette was nothing. I was embracing her compared to the bone-breaking pain I’d been given.

Suzette whispered under her breath, “She’ll listen, you know. If it’s truly a mistake, she’ll fix it. She’s married to Q and—”

Oh, hell no.

Shoving Suzette away, I balled my hands, glaring at Tess. “You’re married to the bastard who stole me? The idiot who shot the man who rescued me? The asshole who left him to die?”

I didn’t care I was wide open for a bullet.

I couldn’t believe this woman.

I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to judge me as if I’d given my heart to a lost cause only to give hers to a man who never listened and ripped apart lovers.

The hypocrite!

Tess stiffened, looking me up and down. Finally, she glanced at Franco and Suzette. “I think you guys had better go.”

Franco never lowered his gun. “I’m not leaving you with her. If Q was here, he’d—”

Tess spun to face him. “He’s not here, and I’m fully capable of looking after myself, Franco. Thank you for your concern but you and Suzette spend the afternoon somewhere else.”

Dismissing them and zeroing her entire attention on me, she backed into the lounge and beckoned me to join her. “Come on. Let’s talk.”