"Understood," I mutter.
"Cyrus will text you the address. You're expected there by six tonight. That gives you…" Kade pauses to check his watch beforecontinuing, "threehours to get your shit and say goodbye to your roommate."
"Three hours?" I echo in disbelief.
"Problem?"
Yes, I want to scream. Everything about this is a problem. The numberitselfis a fucking problem.
I set my jaw. "No."
"Good." He sits back down, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "Run along then, Princess. Don't be late. You wouldn't want to start this arrangement off on the wrong foot."
The threat is clear as day. I turn to leave, the collar suddenly feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds.
The guard smirks as I pass him. "See you around."
I flip him off without looking back.
As I walk briskly to my car, the collar tapping gently against my collarbone, it sinks in that I just sold my fucking soul to the devil.
Fourdevils, to be exact.
Except this time, I know exactly what kind of cage I'm walking into.
And ever since I was collared, some twisted part of me can't wait to be locked inside.
Chapter 17
ELLIE
The address Cyrustexts me leads to a neighborhood I've driven by a thousand times without thinking anything of it.
Tree-lined streets. Sidewalks instead of manicured half-gravel yards full of exotic imported plants and trimmed within a millimeter of perfection. Houses that look like actualhouses.
I pull up to the address and just... stare.
It's notquitea mansion. Not like Todd's sprawling yet sterile estate. But it's huge. Three stories of brick and bay windows, with a front porch that wraps around the side and a yard that actually has real grass. Even a few dandelions have been allowed to sprout, and that brings me a stupid amount of real excitement.
Okay, maybe they didn’t just buy this place for our little arrangement. Which means they’ve been this fucking close this whole time. Is it a coincidence this place is so close to my campus, or…?
I shake my head, refusing to let myself go there. One clusterfuck at a time, Ellie.Eleanor.
The main thought in my head surprises me.
They made it.
The thought sits in my stomach like a cold rock. While I was playing dress-up in designer clothes, counting pills to get through political dinners, my boys were building… this. An actual life. A real future.
Without me.
My phone buzzes. It's Heather.
HEATHER
You sure you're okay? This whole "family emergency" thing is super duper sudden.
I'd texted her from the parking lot at school. Some bullshit about Mom needing me, a family situation that required me to move back home for a while. She bought it easier than I expected. Probably relieved to have the room to herself, honestly. No more walking in on me stress-eating ice cream at 2 AM or finding myanxiety pills scattered across the bathroom counter in clusters of five.
