“Watch me. I will go to my own sun.
And if I am burned by its fire, I will fly on scorched wings.”
—Segovia Amil
Sometimes I believe I was born with my soul split straight down the middle. Each half of me is a different person. With different feelings, different reactions, different impulses. The worst part about it is the edges dividing me are so frayed I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sew them back together. Into a person who functions like everyone else. Into a person who makes sense, like everyone else.
Mama would say it’s because I belong to the devil.
Frankie would say I am exactly as I’m meant to be.
I’m not so sure either of them would be wrong. And that might be what worries me most.
Long nails brush my shoulder blades as Stella buttons my dress. “Are you certain, Emmy?” Her voice bounces off my bathroom walls.
I nod and lift my hair off my neck so she can adjust my scarf. I keep my eyes on the movements of her hands. The gold material tightens around my throat when she pulls it into a neat knot at one side. Such an elegant collar.
“Yes.”
She watches my reflection in the mirror before us. “It would be perfectly all right to take the rest of the day off after a morning as eventful as yours. It is already evening, after all. So long as your master doesn’t call on you, it’s acceptable, even recommended, to take a break.” She glances downward, to the spot below my ankle where I wrapped a fresh bandage around the first-degree burn.
I’ve been Raife’s servant for less than twenty-four hours. If today is anything to go by, I’m going to need to change my approach. I can’t expect him to lower his walls if all he sees in me is someone he wants to make suffer. I might never be able to get him to look at me the way he does Stella, but even a small fraction of that could be useful in gaining his trust, getting him to reveal things he wouldn’t otherwise.
Finally, I shake my head. I can’t allow myself to back out.
I’m well aware that Raife got to me with the stunt he pulled this morning. Seven hours later and I still haven’t quite bounced back. A strange hollowness rooted itself in my gut when I was chained to the chandelier, and the feeling is steadily seeping into my nerve endings even now. But the numbness that spread to my fingers this morning has disappeared, which means my body works just fine. I don’t need to be present mentally to seduce someone.
“I’m fine,” I say faintly. “I’d like to see him.”
After a pause, she squeezes my upper arms and her face lights up. She whispers, “Well, he does enjoy surprises.”
Raife’s voice is quiet, muffled by the wall dividing us. Maybe he’s on the phone. What does a guy like Raife do when a secretary interrupts him? Does it please him to see one of us, or does it anger him? I slow my pace behind Stella as she comes to a stop at a door that’s been left cracked open. She lifts her hand and knocks softly.
A throat clears. “What is it?” Raife barks. His tone makes the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Master, it’s Stella.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “I’ve brought a surprise for you.”
A murmur too low for me to understand seeps through the cracked door, then he calls, “Come in.”
Stella enters. I wait in the doorway, watching her glide across the dark office and approach Raife. I don’t know how she’s always so calm and put together, but I can’t imagine her being any other way.
Raife sits alone behind a large desk. Blackout curtains to his right block the daylight, leaving his features almost as shadowed as the rest of the room. A small lamp behind him highlights the serious look on his sharp features, an expression that softens only when Stella reaches his side. She bends forward and runs her fingers down his cheek as she whispers something in his ear. She starts to straighten before he grabs her by her ponytail and tugs her back down. I can’t hear what he says, but I see him lick—or bite—her neck before he releases her.
When Stella straightens, she readjusts the hem of her dress and turns to me, her pink cheeks and coy smile illuminated by the lamp. She heads my way then nods and winks as she walks past me and down the hallway, the same direction we came.
I keep my eyes on her as her silhouette disappears around a corner, and then on the empty space in her wake. I know I’m up, it’s time to make my move, but my neck is suddenly stiff and my heels are glued to the marble.
“Well, don’t be shy, love,” Raife says quietly. “I hope you didn’t stop by just to waste my time.”
My head snaps toward him of its own accord. Something about his voice, his words, grates on me.
No, I didn’t come here to waste anyone’s time. I’m not so sure Frankiehastime to waste. And there’s nothing to be shy about when it’s notmeI need to offer this man, but my body.
My lips curve, though I know my eyes reflect the hollowness still eating away at me. I take one step into his office and close the door. As I take another step, I reach behind my back and begin to leisurely unbutton my dress.
“Shy?” I murmur with another step. “Not at all.” By the time I reach Raife, all the buttons are undone. My dress slips to the floor, revealing the black lace bustier I discovered in my closet, paired with a matching G-string and sheer thigh-high stockings. Not my style, but I figured the outfit was in my room for a reason.
Raife leans back in his chair, his eyebrows raised and a smirk pulling on the corners of his mouth.
