Slater couldn’t tear his eyes off her, drinking in her every move.

The breeze caught the back of my shirt, revealing her toned ass and long thighs.

My fists curled as the guest beside me sucked in a breath.

We didn’t speak until Eleanor had vanished down a sandy laneway. I fought the urge to suckerpunch him in the eyeballs for ever seeing a fraction of her nakedness.

Rubbing his mouth, he turned to me full of seriousness. “I booked this trip because I was assured you’d created something otherworldly. I’m already fully impressed with the privacy and quality of your accommodations, but I’m absolutely blown away by the gorgeousness of your women.” He slipped into business mode, bracing himself for a negotiation. “I would like to request that creature. I would very much like to enjoy her…eh, company in my fantasy tomorrow night.”

All my insane pieces grew fangs and prepared to rip out his jugular.

But the final sane piece begged me to be smart.

Eleanor had broken me with a simple request. If she could do that in two short weeks, what else would she do to me? We had four years together. Four years that I seriously doubted we’d both survive.

The difference between men who were attracted to women and myself was…I didn’t want this attraction. I didn’t want the weakness, the indebtedness, the connection. I wanted to remain free.

She’d already proven she could tie me into fucking knots.

I’d almost fucked her on Serigala. I would’ve been inside her and most likely drowning if it hadn’t been for—

Skittles.

The tiny parrot hatched from a hapless egg. A firm reminder of why I didn’t do humans and why I would never trust another. Friend, family, or foe. They were all the fucking same.

Skittles had almost shoved me heart first into Eleanor’s curse. But…because of her chosen affection, she’d also saved me from the worst decision of my life.

I had to keep my distance.

I fucking refused to do anything else.

And what better way to keep my distance than to remind myself and Eleanor that our bond began with a contract and ended with a contract.

When I didn’t agree, Slater did what all men did when faced with something they desperately wanted and couldn’t accept losing. “I’ll pay any extra required. I’m happy to work with whatever figure you want to ensure a night with that girl.”

My throat closed up as I fisted my hands.

Eleanor was due in Euphoria.

A week from her first experience had passed. She was a commodity who had to work to deserve her place.

She’d run from me.

She’d destroyed me.

She was owed retribution for both unforgivable sins.

Inhaling hard, I held out my hand. “An extra two hundred thousand and she’s yours.”

A figure that any rational person would baulk at.

The most expensive sex on earth.

But Roy Slater didn’t even hesitate.

His palm slipped into mine.

We shook.

It was done.

I didn’t know who would be more ruined.

Eleanor.

Or me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

MY FINGERS DUG INTO the wave-inspired vanity.

Water dripped from my clean hair. Tears dripped from my lashes. Sun and shame painted my cheeks.

You’re so stupid, Ellie.

My reflection mirrored a girl who’d tripped out of the shower. Who’d washed her burned skin a thousand times and rinsed her hair a hundred, trying to bathe away the atrocity of her situation only to slam face to face with reality.

That guest.

That guest who stared at me as if I were some prime leg of lamb, bleeding and freshly butchered in a shop window.

And Sully.

His touch when he’d confessed to me. His iciness when he’d told me to leave.

In this circumstance, I wasn’t naïve. I’d known the moment he’d asked me to leave what he’d offer the guest.

Me.

He offered me.

My nails dug deeper into the smooth vanity.

More tears cascaded down my cheeks.

I hadn’t bothered to grab a towel—preferring the air to dry my skin. I was clean, but I couldn’t wash away the attempt at freedom. Tiredness smudged under my eyes. Bruises marked my body where I’d bashed against the kayak when I capsized. Scratches nicked my chest and arms when I’d walked through the undergrowth.

Each imperfection brought yet more idiotic tears to my eyes. I cried because I was back here. I cried because of what I had to face.

Would Sully take me to Euphoria tonight? Would that be my punishment? To serve a man with elixir in my veins, draining me of my final reserves?

Or would he let me recover?

Will he forget his promise to make me pay?

Don’t be idiotic.

I sneered at my reflection, cursing my long hair that needed a brush, hexing the stupid girl who thought she’d finally understood enough about Sullivan Sinclair to at least protect her body and soul…just a little bit.

He won’t forget.

He had even more reason to punish me now.

I asked him to see me as an animal!

I dropped my head, clenching my teeth hard.

What was I thinking?

That wasn’t the right thing to say. What did I expect? That he’d suddenly be nice to me? That he’d treat me like he treated Pika and Skittles?

That he’d love me?

God!

A noise wrenched my head up.

I spun around, facing the bedroom.

I hadn’t closed the door—what was the point? I expected to see a tiny parrot, but instead, I found a goddess with my silver lilied robe in her hands.

With a sad, understanding smile, she entered my bathroom and passed me the dressing gown.

Jealousy didn’t look at my nakedness, and I felt no shame in being bare. I felt more protected and dressed being nude with Jealousy than I had wearing Sully’s shirt in front of that guest.

Tears itched my eyes, and I took the robe with a half-shrug.

I’d been kissed, mauled, fucked, and manipulated since I’d arrived on this heinous island, but I hadn’t been hugged. I hadn’t had sympathy. I hadn’t had a friend.

Jealousy vibrated on my frequency, and without a word, she stepped into me. My robe pressed between us as her arms went around my damp body.

The moment she encircled me in an embrace, I let go.

Tears rained but no noise accompanied my breakdown. I’d brought this upon myself. I’d gambled with Sully and lost. I’d fought for my freedom and failed.

Whatever came next, I had to be strong enough to face. Otherwise…well…

How else will I survive four years?

As my tears flowed, I slowly hugged Jealousy back. Her embrace switched from consoling to clutching. A hug wasn’t enough anymore. We needed more. We needed pain to affirm we could still fight. Still battle this life we’d been given.

We clung to each other. Strong women and strong hearts, letting their façades fall in the safety of each other’s arms.

I didn’t know how long we stood there, but by the time we broke apart, I no longer cried.

So be it.

I would be summoned soon.

I would sleep with another stranger who wasn’t my boyfriend. A boyfriend who probably thought I was dead.

And there was nothing I could do about it.