"You want me to say I'm a man who sells women to rapists for money."
The words come out broken, like they're tearing pieces of him away.
"Exactly. Was that so hard? That’s why I’m insisting you stay in the room with me at all times at the dinner party."
"You have no idea what you're asking of me."
"Too damn bad,” I tell him. “You're going to watch every moment."
"Why, Camilla?"
"Because maybe if you see what you're really doing, you'll finally grow a set of balls and stop it."
"I can't stop it."
"Bullshit. You're the only one with the power here. You're the one making the arrangements." I reach up and touch his face, feeling him tense under my fingers. "You could call this off right now if you wanted to. All you have to do is pick up the phone and start making calls."
"You don't understand what that would cost."
"I understand what selling me will cost." I let my thumb brush across his lower lip. "When Kozlov takes me to Moscow, when Al-Rashid locks me in his compound, when they're using my body however they want, you'll remember that you could have stopped it."
"Camilla, don’t."
"You'll remember every training session, every moment we had together, every time you almost chose me over the money. And didn’t. Will you think about me when you're counting your profit? What will you buy with the money? Another villa your rarely use? Will you wonder if I'm still alive, or if they've already gotten bored and killed me?"
"Enough."
"Will you remember how I felt under your hands when they're hurting me? Will you—"
He grabs my shoulders, his grip tight enough to bruise. "I said enough."
"Then prove it. Call off the dinner party. Tell them the merchandise is no longer available."
"I can't."
"You won't."
"There's no difference."
"There's every difference. One makes you a victim of circumstances. The other makes you a willing participant in my rape."
He releases my shoulders and steps back.
"Which one are you, Renato? Victim or participant?"
"I honestly don't know anymore."
He's quiet for a long moment, and when I turn back to face him, something has shifted in his expression.
"The dinner party will happen," he says quietly. "Three potential buyers will be here for that. Kozlov, Al-Rashid, and Torretti. They'll expect full evaluation access."
“Is that your final decision about this then?”
“Yes.”
“Then I want you to live with your choice for the rest of your life because I sure as hell will be.”
"Camilla..."
