I wake up when he leaves my room. The lock clicks behind him. I listen to his fading footsteps, then the house goes silent.

I’m here again, in my room. Trapped and alone.

No special night. No conversation. None of the things I desperately need.

I gave him so much tonight, but nothing changed. I didn’t earn trust or freedom. He didn’t even stay with me. I fell asleep in his arms, but I’m still nothing to him. Just a prisoner to fuck with and control.

My stomach growls. I never ate, and Bram doesn’t care. I wonder what happened to the dinner he brought home. He probably tossed the whole thing in the trash.

I crane my head over my shoulder. Even in the dark I can see welts and bruises. I have the sick instinct to be proud of them. Bram Russell did this to me, and I took it. I not only took it, I got pleasure out of it.

I wish I knew what he was thinking right now. Is he proud of me? Still angry?

I roll over and squeeze my eyes shut. Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Be grateful he didn’t hurt you even worse.

Just then, I hear the rumble of the garage door. I hold my breath and listen. A minute later, Bram’s car roars to life and drives away into the darkness.

Loneliness sweeps over me. He left me. Again.

I’ve never felt so solitary and forgotten, even when Bram left me for hours at a time. I’ve never been alone here this late at night.

I strain to see the moon or stars through the window, anything that will make me feel grounded. There’s nothing outside but flat gray darkness. It’s starting to rain.

Maybe he went to Coral’s husband’s bar. She said they were best friends.

Or he needed something at the grocery story. Breakfast for me.

Or. I press my lips together.

He’s never mentioned anyone else, but he wouldn’t.

How do I know he doesn’t have someone to fuck? Or three?

My stomach pitches as I imagine him naked in another woman’s bed. Fucking her with the long, thick cock he never even took out of his pants tonight.

At Phantom, he must be surrounded by beautiful, accomplished women. A man like him? He probably fucks one girl on his lunch hour and another after work. For all I know, he fucks them under this roof while I wait for thirty pathetic seconds of attention.

I’ve never seen even him naked. It’s so unfair. He’s never been vulnerable, not with me.

Why? Maybe if I didn’t talk back, if I were a better person...

I growl into the mattress. These thoughts are crazy. I’m crazy.

I can’t be jealous. I can’t want him like this. It’s horrible and wrong.

I pull the pillow over my head and try not to listen for his car. I try to force myself to sleep, but my heart feels sick and broken.

What if Bram never comes back? Would Coral rescue me?

A desolate feeling cracks open inside me. I lie awake waiting, feeling so desperately alone I can hardly breathe.

When I finally hear him pull in, it’s relief like I’ve never known. I’m not alone anymore. He’s here. He’s safe. I listen for his footsteps and the sound of his bedroom door closing, and close my tear-filled eyes.

I wake up with sweat pooled in the hollow of my throat. It’s barely light out. My chest is so tight I can hardly breathe.

I was on the Chapman Bridge, about to jump. I could feel the rain, the slick railing, the chilling vertigo of black water hundreds of feet down.

It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.

I squeeze my eyes shut but the vision gets brighter. I can feel the cold, slippery grate under my bare feet.

I was there. Just like Bram said I was. I was that far gone. And being Bram’s captive has pushed me even further.

I have to get out.

I wake up in this room every morning with no decisions to make. Bram rules me. He’ll tells me what to do, when to breathe, and how to think. He’ll even give me vengeance if I’m good enough. Millions of dollars in cold, sweet payback.

All he wants in return is everything I am.

James’s father wouldn’t want the money. He’d want me to resist.

For a fleeting moment, I see myself from across the room. I see a girl sitting naked with her head bowed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I want scream at her. Don’t adapt to your misery. Don’t make excuses for him. He isn’t helping you. He’s breaking your soul for an empty promise he may not even keep.

Vengeance isn’t worth losing myself for.

I know how to resist. I’ve been doing it my whole life. My father tried to change me and he failed. So will Bram.

I shake my head quickly. Rubbing my eyes, I try to tear away the fog of the last week. Underneath the need and the longing, I’m still me. I still have a chance.

Adrenaline powers me out of bed and into the shower. Every movement, every tiny decision, feels important. I stash the high heels and lingerie in the closet and make my bed.

Telling him won’t work. I’m under his spell now. If I ask him to let me go, somehow he’ll make me change my mind. He’ll make me wonder why I ever wanted to leave in the first place.

Bram brings my breakfast at seven. “Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning.”

He’s already dressed for work in a dark blue suit and gray shirt. His eyes are bloodshot and his lids are heavy, but he only looks more handsome.

The craving to touch him flares across my skin, making my nipples tingle. My bruises throb. I want to show them off, to share that dark, violent bond with him again. I want his wet tongue in my throat and his fingers on my clit. I want to take care of him.

Every feeling proves what I know. Last night was dangerous. It changed me. It stripped my nerves raw and turned me into an addict.

My stomach churns with nerves as I slice my omelette with the side of my fork. Bram watches every bite. Like last night, his eyes are roiling with emotions I can’t read or understand.

I pretend to be ravenous, but I feel sick. It’s all I can do not to choke and cry.

He doesn’t ask how I slept, or if he bruised me. He doesn’t seem to care.

The silence is like an iron weight on my head. Where were you? I want to scream. Wasn’t I worth staying with? What do you want?

Every swallow is magnified in the tense air. God help me escape this man. Help me be who I was before.

When he stands up, I do, too. I’m shoveling in the last bite of eggs as I follow him to the door.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” he says. His voice is clipped and distant. I feel it like a knife down my spine.

“Okay. Have a good day.”

He presses his thumb to the wall and the door swings open. Heart racing, I hover behind him. “I’m almost finished if you want to take my plate.”

“I’m in a hurry. I’ll get it later.”

My heart is a brick in my chest. Gone is the emotion he showed while spanking me. It’s as if the intimacy and closeness never happened.

He feels nothing for me. He never did.

Smiling through the sting of rejection, I hold out my plate with both hands. “I ate it all. I was a good girl.”

I hold his gaze with mine. It’s like staring into cold ash, and then something breaks deep in his eyes.

“I noticed,” he says. He still doesn’t smile. He glances at my empty plate before taking it.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I say.

He nods and walks out. The door begins to swing shut.

I pull the linen napkin from the pocket of my robe. I slip it in front of the lock just as the door closes.

I hold my breath. The lock doesn’t click.

I stand with my fingers over my mouth, listening to his footsteps. His heavy tread echoes in the hall and down the stairs. The sound of the Master. Soothing and terrifying.

A silent minute goes by. He must be in the kitchen by now.

My thoughts tear apart as I picture him putting my plate in the sink. I hate him. I miss him already. I wish he’d come back and tell me what I did wrong. I hope he never comes back again.

I have to focus. Soon I’ll hear the garage door, and he’ll drive away. That’s when my life will truly begin.

I freeze as I hear a sound. Hollow knocking.

His footsteps. Coming back up the stairs.

He knows. The lock didn’t click. He saw the treachery in my lying face.

I grab the edge of the napkin and pull, but the door is too heavy. All it does is rip.

I drop my hand. This is the end. The honesty I promised was a sham. The obedience, a line of bullshit. And he’s about to discover it all.

His footsteps stop. He must have gone into his bedroom. He’s coming here next.

A shiver breaks over me and my skin prickles. I slink to the far corner and wait.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please.”

My brain is on fire. I’m too petrified to think. I wrap my arms around my knees and put my head down. Total submission. I won’t even look at him when he comes in the room.

He’s walking down the hall again, coming for me. But then the sound fades and disappears down the stairs. With a gasp, I raise my head.

I’m trembling. Two minutes later, the garage door opens and shuts, and he’s gone.

Gone. And the door is unlocked.

I can still hear the growl of the engine as I leap to my feet. Prying my fingers around the edge of the door, I pull it open.

Cool autumn hair rushes in from the hallway and light hits my face. Sweet fucking freedom.

I’ll never go back.