"Yes?"
"Thank you for not letting them touch me today."
The simple gratitude in her voice nearly breaks me. "It was business. Nothing more."
"I know. But thank you anyway."
After I lock her door, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
In less than two hours, I've received interest worth more than fifteen million euros. Both buyers believe this is real. Both will submit credible offers that should terrify Alessandro into paying.
The bluff is working.
So why does it feel like the world is about to implode?
My phone buzzes. Kozlov's offer: Fifteen million euros. Cash transfer within seventy-two hours of final verification. Standard acquisition contract with his terms attached.
I open the attachment. Six pages of legal documentation detailing ownership transfer, usage rights, liability clauses. The kind of contract you'd use for property, not a person.
He thinks this is real. He's preparing to own her.
And I'm the one who convinced him it was possible.
Ten minutes later, Al-Rashid's offer arrives: Sixteen million euros. Immediate cash transfer upon documentation review. His own standard contract, equally detailed and equally horrifying.
Both offers are substantial. Both are credible. Both will terrify Alessandro into action.
That was the plan.
So why am I sitting here staring at these contracts like they're death sentences?
I text Alessandro:Fifteen million from Kozlov. Sixteen million from Al-Rashid. You have forty-eight hours to pay the six million you owe me, or I finalize the deal with the highest bidder.
Simple. Direct. No room for negotiation.
His response takes longer than I expect. When it comes, it's only two words:You wouldn't.
He's right, of course. But he can't know that.
I don't respond. Let him sit with the silence. Let him wonder if I'm bluffing or if his future daughter-in-law really is about to disappear into a Saudi compound or a Russian oligarch's estate.
Five minutes pass. Then:Forty-eight hours. I'll have the money.
Victory should taste better than this.
I should feel triumphant. Alessandro is cracking. In forty-eight hours, I'll have my money and Camilla will be free.
Free to go back to Lorenzo and her old life.
I drain the scotch and pour another.
Chapter 21: Camilla
I've been sitting in silence for three hours, and I'm done.
Done with his business euphemisms, done with pretending what happened today was anything other than what it was—two men thinking about how they’re going to rape me while I stood there unable to speak or move.
When the lock clicks and Renato enters my room, I'm ready for war.
