I was back on the stage where I first auditioned with the other nine girls.

Conway stood in the aisle between the two rows of seats. He was several feet below me, but he still felt like the biggest thing in the room. He adjusted his watch before he stripped off his jacket, revealing his musculature in the cream collared shirt. He tossed it onto the nearest chair then slid his hands into his pockets. Straight, rigid, and strong, he stood upright with his chest opened to the stage. A black tie hung down his chest over the buttons of his shirt. The clothes covered most of his skin, but the distinct formation of his strength was outlined in the way the fabric hugged his body. It was tight over his strong biceps and his expansive shoulders. It was ironic he designed clothes for models when he easily could have been a model himself.

The lights were on high like they were last time, so I could actually see him in the audience. I wore a black corset with a sweetheart top and matching black panties. A diamond necklace was placed around my throat, and my brown hair had been teased for volume and curled for texture. Whenever I was done up by his staff, I had to admit I’d never looked better. And his clothes made me feel sexier than I’d ever felt. In the beginning, I was uncomfortable standing nearly naked in front of this man I hardly knew. But once I saw his kindness and generosity, it didn’t feel quite as strange.

“We aren’t leaving until you get this right. So I suggest you give it your best effort.”

Conway Barsetti had more important things to do than babysit me, but yet, he spent most of his time with me. He used me as the basis for his designs, and now he worked with me personally to get my performance down. This building housed dozens of employees. He couldn’t get someone else to do it? “Why is that?”

“Why is what?” He slowly approached the stage, his posture perfect with every step he took.

“Why are you working me like a mule?”

“Because I don’t accept anything less than the best. If you want to wear Barsetti lingerie in front of the world, you’d better be worthy of it. The rest of the girls would kill for this kind of attention.”

“Then why aren’t you using them instead of me?” It was impossible for me to control my smartass remarks. Not taking bullshit was ingrained in my blood. It might get me killed someday. Instead of submitting to Knuckles, I disobeyed him and took off. It was a stupid move, and if he ever caught up with me, I would pay the price. It didn’t matter if I was buck naked on that stage. I refused to let anyone speak to me like I was a household dog.

Conway tilted his head slightly, regarding me with his ice-cold gaze. The silence filled with tension, and at times like this, it seemed as though I could be taking my last breaths. Conway Barsetti was a frightening man, but he was never more frightening than when he stood in complete silence. The anticipation was worse than his actual response. He had more power than I’d seen a single person possess. The models worshiped at his feet, and everyone else in the world respected his unbelievable success. But he never responded to my question, stepping away into a different spot in the audience. “There and back. Go.” He hit a button in his pocket, and the music began.

I straightened my body as best as I could and then walked, moving across the stage while thinking about keeping everything straight and tucked in. My hands were positioned on my hips so I could feel the way my body shook from left to right.

Conway slowly paced down below, his fingertips resting against his smooth chin. He shaved that morning, so the hard lines of his jaw were clearly visible. His rugged knuckles were noticeable too, the way the veins stretched out over his hands. Everything about him was masculine, from the darkness in his eyes to the end of his fingertips. “Straighter.”

“This is as straight as I go.” I kept walking, imagining my spine as a straight line.

“You’re being sloppy.”

“How am I being sloppy?” I reached the edge of the stage and stopped. “Just the other day you said I was better.”

“Better doesn’t mean perfect. Better is the worst compliment anyone can receive. Better means absolutely nothing.” His voice didn’t rise, but his anger escalated. The sound of his voice grew quieter, but that implied more rage. Very few people could be more intimidating by generating less noise.

Conway Barsetti nailed it.

He walked up the steps at the side of the stage, his jaw clenched tighter now that I was nothing but a nuisance to him. He walked behind me, his footsteps thudding with power. “This is what irritates me about you.”

I tried to swallow my pride before I could blurt out an insult.

“I’ve watched you more than you realize.” He moved to my opposite side, circling me like a shark calculating when he would strike. “And when you think you aren’t being watched is when you start to perform. It’s when you hold yourself with grace, power, and confidence. It’s when you show who you really are. I know you’re capable of it, but you’re very selective on when you show it.” He stopped directly in front of me. “So, stop being selective. Show it at all times. In life, we’re always performing. We’re always on stage—even when we think no one is watching.”

---

We worked for hours straight, but Conway was never satisfied. As a perfectionist, even perfect wasn’t quite good enough. He left his seat in the aisle and walked up onto the stage to my side. Without warning, his bare hand moved to my lower back.

I hadn’t been expecting the touch, so I stiffened. The muscles in my lower back immediately tightened, forcing the sides of my body to curve back. My shoulders moved back at the same time, and I immediately sucked in my stomach. His touch stimulated my heart, making my blood circulate at an exponentially faster speed. My breaths turned ragged, and my fingertips suddenly felt warm. The heels were killing my feet, but the pain suddenly disappeared. Anytime he’d touched me in the past, my body reacted the same way. The stimulus never faded in effectiveness.

Conway stood behind me, his breaths falling on the back of my neck. “Perfect.” His warm fingertips caressed my bare back. “Pretend my hand is just like this all the time. You’re cradling your body back, changing your center of gravity. Now, walk.”

I slowly stepped forward and felt his warm hand slip away. I walked to the edge of the stage, pretending that touch was still pressed against me. The ache was gone from my feet, and my shoulders were naturally snapped back because of the way my spine was aligned. I still felt the fire in my belly from the way he touched me, because his touch did surprising things to me. It made me feel alive but dead at the same time. It made me feel like a lightning bolt had struck me from head to toe. I was burning alive from the inside out.

“Stop.”

I halted at the edge of the stage, his invisible hand still pressed against me.

“Halfway there.” His footsteps tapped against the floor as he approached me from behind. He took his time when he headed anywhere—because he knew people would wait. He came to my side and looked at my face instead of my body. “This is the tricky part. I need you to project your fire to the audience.”

“Project my fire?” I asked.

“Your presence,” he explained. “Your attitude. Your personality. But you have to do it wordlessly. Most of my models not only look like queens, they behave like queens. Their self-respect and authority bring extra appeal to the lingerie. It makes people associate these clothes with power, like a crown for a queen. This is something that can’t be easily taught like placing a hand against your lower back. This is something you have to draw from yourself. I know you have it because I’ve seen it before. I was sitting in this very audience when I saw you for the first time.”

I remembered that moment, but I didn’t remember projecting anything. “I was just being myself.”

“Then do it again.” He moved away, his hand remaining in his pockets. “Combine everything together and own this stage.”

“Are you going to put me in the show this weekend?” I’d heard him mention it to Nicole a few times. He’d designed seven different articles of lingerie this week, and he rushed the order so the designs would be ready in time for the show.

“Yes.”

“If you’re unhappy with my performance, maybe you should put me in a later show.”

“No.” He walked in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re going to be my grand finale.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the last model to show my most revered piece. It’s called Queen of Diamonds. I want you to be the woman to show it to the world.” He surveyed the empty audience before he turned back to me.

He wanted a rookie to do the most important part of the show? That sounded ludicrous. “I’m sure one of your other models has more experience for something like that…”

“I don’t want another model to do it. I want it to be you.”

“Why?”

He faced me, his dark eyes narrowed in sinister hostility.

I guess I shouldn’t have asked that question.

“It doesn’t matter why. You’re doing it—and you’d better not disappoint me.”

---

Milan was a beautiful city, full of timeless history and innate power. It was at the top of the country, close to the borders of France and Switzerland. I’d only experienced the far northern part of the country, not taking in the sights like Venice and Verona. But my short time here had shown me how special it was. America was twenty times the size of this place, but it didn’t have quite the same character.

It was easy to get lost in the beauty sometimes.

From my hotel, I could walk to anywhere I wanted. The large sidewalks and cobbled streets took me to markets, coffee shops, and small grocery stores where I could buy my necessities. And the view from my window, even though I didn’t face the countryside or the river, was still wonderful.

But it didn’t make me forget what I was running from.

Who I was running from.

Knuckles was one of the most ruthless criminal warlords in New York City. He was famous by name, but still untouchable by the police. That meant he had more power than anyone—if he didn’t have to hide his face.

Even if I’d called the police, they wouldn’t have done anything. They might have filed a report, but they wouldn’t have acted on it. And then they would have taken me into custody for failing to pay my property taxes and foreclosing on the enormous loan I had with the bank.

Fucking Nathan.

He fucked me over big-time.

Almost made me glad he was dead.

Almost.

Now that I’d been in Milan for a few weeks, I knew I had to embrace this new life. This was my home now. There was nothing waiting for me back home besides a few friends who probably wondered where I disappeared off to.

I was a lingerie model.

It was the last thing I expected to do for an occupation, but that didn’t matter. I was desperate, and desperate times called for desperate measures. I had to put aside my morals and values and do what was necessary.

So I kept my head high and moved on.

I went to work the next day, stepping inside the historical building that looked more like an art gallery than an office. In New York, all the skyscrapers looked the same. Some were more unique than others because of their height, but they were just a sea of windows that reflected the sun as it passed in the sky.

I went the extra mile to make myself look amazing all the time, but I missed the days when putting on a bit of mascara and lipstick was good enough. Jeans and a t-shirt were perfectly acceptable. But now I had to spend an hour just doing my hair, and my makeup required layer after layer of texture and color. When I walked out the door, I was ready for a photoshoot.

I walked down the hall and approached Conway’s studio. Anytime I knocked, he was busy working on something and barely gave me the time of day, so I didn’t bother knocking this time.

Conway stood in front of his mannequin, but today, he wasn’t in a suit and tie. He was in dark jeans that hung low on his hips and a black t-shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly. His back was turned to me, so I could see the way the fabric stretched across his shoulder blades. This clothing was a lot more revealing than his suit, so I could see the way his wide chest slimmed to his narrow hips. His triceps were distinct and separate from his biceps. His forearms were even more chiseled than I realized. And the dark color of his shirt matched his tone perfectly, from his irritable personality to the short, dark hair on his head.

With arms crossed over his chest, he stared at the silver babydoll top hanging on the mannequin. Flawless diamonds reflected the art lights from the walls. Without seeing the price tag, I could only guess how expensive something like that would be.

Like, as expensive as my mother’s repossessed house.

“It’s stunning.” Any woman would feel beautiful wearing something that gorgeous.

Conway slowly turned around and regarded me, this time without an ounce of irritability. He always seemed to be pissed off about something, disappointed when things weren’t meticulously perfect. But he was in a better mood. Or maybe my compliment meant something to him. “I think it’ll look even more beautiful on you.” He snapped his fingers and directed me to the spot beside the mannequin.

Instantly, my eyes narrowed in offense. “Conway, I’m grateful to be here, but I won’t let you treat me like a dog. Enough with the snapping.” I snapped my fingers back at him to reinforce how annoying it was.

He didn’t adopt a cold expression. His green eyes seemed almost amused. This time, he extended his arm to indicate where he wanted me to stand.

It was much better than that snapping bullshit.

I stripped away my clothes because I knew he wanted me to try it on. I folded my clothes and set them in a pile on the chair but kept my underwear on.

“Lose the undergarments.”

“Then turn around.”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smile. “I see women naked on a daily basis.”

“Well, you won’t see me naked on a daily basis.”

He chuckled even though I was being dead serious. Or maybe that was why he thought it was funny. He stepped away and turned his back to me.

His ass looked so tight in those jeans.

I peeled my undergarments away and then slipped the baby doll dress over my head. The halter top was a single band, so I didn’t need to tie it into place. It fell over my body, the material so light it didn’t seem like I was wearing anything at all.

I pulled the thong on next, suddenly covered in nothing but diamonds. I was wearing a fortune. Anyone would rip it off my back because it was so valuable.

“Finished?” He stood with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his posture perfect even when he was dressed casually. The definition of his physique was noticeable through his clothes, the tightness of his muscles, and the way his body fell into place.

I adjusted my hair around my shoulders, fixing myself up before he finally saw me. “Yeah.”

He turned around, and his eyes lightened with obvious approval. He slowly walked toward me as he examined me from head to toe, seeing the way the fabric contrasted against my tanned skin. His hand covered his chin, his thoughts lost in the lingerie. His shirt hugged his chest the way it hugged his back, hinting at the beauty underneath his cotton fabric. Black was a perfect color on him, matching his rough exterior and complimenting his skin tone.

He stepped closer to me, his hands close enough to touch me. He stared at my chest and studied the way the garment fell over my body. Then he reached out and touched the strap on my left shoulder. He rubbed his thumb against the soft material then felt my bare skin.

I immediately stopped breathing, immobile the second he touched me. The smell of his soap entered my nose, and I wondered how he smelled when he was slick with sweat after an intense workout. I felt the calluses on his fingertips when he touched me, but I liked the roughness. It reminded me of a sheet of sandpaper, rigid and hard, but enjoyable at the same time.

His hands started at both shoulders and then slowly slid down, moving over my slender arms and all the way down to my elbows. He wasn’t touching the lingerie at all, but studying my body with his hands as a measurement. He didn’t look into my eyes because he was concentrating on my body, seeing the way the lingerie moved against me as he touched me. “Take a deep breath for me.”

I obeyed, sucking the air into my lungs. My chest expanded.

He watched it rise as he held my hands in his. He massaged my forearms then the palms of my hands.

A man’s touch had never felt so good.

His hands moved to my chest next. He didn’t ask permission before he placed both palms above my tits, feeling my body in a way that was so intimate I forgot to breathe again. “Breathe.”

I knew he noticed my reactions to him. I just hoped he didn’t understand what they meant. I took another deep breath, feeling the weight of his hands press against me. His fingertips dug into me slightly when my chest rose.

His palms migrated down, skipping over my tits and reaching my stomach. His fingertips hugged my waist, feeling the way it curved inward after my rib cage. His thumbs dug into me a little harder as they slid to my hips.

Then Conway moved to his knees in front of me and explored me from the waist down.

Now I couldn’t breathe at all.

He gripped my thighs then slowly dragged his fingers down, touching me like a man caressed his lover. His fingertips grazed my knees and moved all the way down to my ankles. His eyes worshiped me with the same intensity.

My lungs ached when they couldn’t hold in the air any longer. I released my breath and breathed harder, unable to hide my reaction anymore.

Conway rose to his feet again, moving slowly as his fingertips trailed over my skin. He moved over the fabric of my thong and lifted my dress slightly on the way up. When he was at his full height, he was much closer to me than he had been a second ago. Now his face was practically pressed against mine. His warm breaths gently blanketed my face. His hands moved to my hips, his fingertips digging into me again. “Turn around.” The deep baritone of his voice washed over me, enticing my nerves and making me shudder in weakness. The room was so silent that his quiet words felt explosive in my ears.

I didn’t think twice before I obeyed him. I faced the other way, seeing him stand behind me in the reflection in the mirror. His hand snaked up the back of my neck until he dug under the fall of my hair. Then he moved it to the side, exposing my neck. His eyes drank in my flesh as he gripped my hips. He pulled me into him slightly, pressing his chest into my back.

That’s when I felt it. The distinct outline of his enormous cock through his jeans. He was long, thick, and nearly throbbing.

I didn’t want my cheeks to flush with color, but I knew there was no stopping it.

Conway didn’t look at my expression in the mirror. His eyes were focused on me right in front of him. He craned his neck down and pressed a kiss to the back of my neck.

His lips were so hot, I felt myself melt.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling my body tense in a sensual reaction. Without my even realizing it, a quiet moan escaped my lips. I liked his touch, loved the way his soft lips caught against my skin slightly. Some of his breath washed over me at the same time, the heat making me burn from the inside out.

He pressed his forehead against the back of my head. “So fucking beautiful.” His words rolled over me like a physical touch. His hands gripped my hips again, and he pressed a kiss to my shoulder.

I didn’t stop him. I just let it happen. I closed my eyes and leaned back into him, letting him kiss me with his pretty mouth and touch me with his manly hands. I wasn’t here to be one of the models he took to the bed in the corner. I just needed money until something more appropriate came along. I didn’t need to know Conway better to understand he was a playboy. He told me he’d never had a girlfriend, so he fucked women then moved on to the next one. I didn’t want to be just some random woman.

He kissed my neck next, his hands pulling me harder into him.

It would be so easy to let this happen. I wanted to turn around and get that mouth on mine. I wanted to explore his hard body that I’d been staring at all day. A part of me wanted to be another meaningless fling.

But then the door opened.

Lacey Lockwood stepped inside, furious before she even laid eyes on us. Her hair was styled for the runway, and smoky eye makeup was painted across her lids. In sparkling heels and a skintight black dress, she looked every bit of the model that she was.

Conway stopped kissing me, but he kept his hands on my hips.

It took Lacey less than two seconds to deduce what was going on. “She’s wearing the Queen of Diamonds?”

Conway dropped his hands from my waist and walked around me. “Yes.”

If she stomped her foot, she would look like a child on the playground. She had such a beautiful face that it looked wrong to see her so angry. She set one hand on her hip as her nostrils flared. “I thought I was the one doing the finale for the show on Saturday.”

Conway didn’t rise to her anger. “I never said you were.”

Her eyes doubled in size. “She has no idea what she’s doing.”

“And you have no idea what you’re doing,” he said coldly. “You just marched into your boss’s office to tell him how to do his job.”

I stood directly next to the confrontation, and I wished I could slip away and disappear. The angrier Lacey became, the worse it would be for me. Once Conway wasn’t around, she would trash me to all the others girls, and they would make me pay for what I did.

“I tell you how to do your job.” Conway was an irritable man, but he managed to keep the conversation somewhat civil by not raising his voice. With his kind of power, he didn’t have to. “You’re in the second act. Now get out of my office.”

Instead of leaving, Lacey looked at me like I was a disgusting bug she found in the basement. “Why are you so fascinated with her? She auditioned in jeans and a t-shirt. Jeans!”

“And she was still the best model there,” Conway countered. “What does that say about you? She can be beautiful without taking her clothes off. That’s what modeling is about. Get out. I won’t ask you again.”

Lacey’s jaw fell open, shocked that Conway would tell her off like that.

I was shocked too. Lacey was one of the biggest faces of his company. Whenever they interviewed her, she gushed about how wonderful Conway was. She was the biggest ass-kisser on the planet.

She stormed out again, her thick hair shaking from left to right as she made her exit. She slammed the door behind her, but she was too weak to cause any real damage. Her heels echoed on the hardwood floor, and the sound disappeared when she was finally at the end of the hallway.

I was relieved the confrontation was over, but I suspected it was only the beginning of much worse things. “Maybe you should use her. She has a lot more experience than I do.”

“Don’t want her.” He opened a black box on his desk and pulled out a diamond necklace. “I want you.” He placed it around my neck, his fingers grazing against my collarbone as he hooked the necklace around my throat. “She’ll get over it. Just ignore her.”

“It’s hard to ignore someone when they hate you.”

“I do it all the time.” He stepped back to admire me, and he acted like he hadn’t just kissed my body in vulnerable places. Maybe that was something he did with everyone, so it wasn’t meaningful at all.

“No one hates you. They all love you.”

“But they don’t really know me. They just know about my money. Lacey has been kissing my ass since the first day she got here. She doesn’t want me for me. She only wants me for the things I can do for her—and I don’t owe her a damn thing.”

“I still don’t want to cause trouble…put me in the second act. For a woman like Lacey, this is a career. For me, I just need the money. It means a lot more to her, and we both know she’s gorgeous.”

His fingertips moved up my neck until he gently gripped my chin. He forced my gaze directly on his. “She’s nothing compared to you, Ten. You have something she doesn’t. All the models here know it—and they’re threatened by you. As they should be. I’m putting you in my grand finale because it’s where you belong.” His fingers slowly slid down my neck and to my collarbone. “I won’t change my mind.”