Rosalie
The party is sweltering—thick cigar smoke clouds the air as hearty, filthy laughter echoes off the walls. There are men of all shapes and sizes dressed in suits milling around as they drink from whiskey glasses and converse. A few overcrowd the seating area, reaching out with prying hands to touch the women serving drinks. One man slaps a big hand over Luna’s ass, laughing when she’s jostled forward and almost drops her tray. Her eyes close as she takes a deep breath and saunters through the crowd.
Charlotte sits on a man’s lap, her fingers trailing over his suit while her eyes look miles away. The man, a wiry sort with dark eyes, palms her hip possessively as he takes a long swig of the amber liquid in his cup. He talks animatedly with more people seated on the leather couch beside him, but all I can think about is what’s going on inside Charlotte’s head.
Is she thinking of the time long before this? When she was carefree and had no idea her life was in danger? What must she be feeling right now?
Silver nudges my elbow, getting my attention. “You’re staring. Hand out some drinks.”
“Right,” I mutter, feeling utterly exposed as I skirt around the throng of men and offer my tray to a few.
“You’re new,” One man with deep brown eyes smiles. It seems affectionate, but it feels cold. “What’s your name?”
I swallow, remembering Silver’s rules. “Candy.” The name feels as heavy as sand as it falls from my lips.
The man quirks a brow. “Are you sweet,Candy?”
My skin crawls with the urge to scrub the sensation ofhis eyes off me. I give him a tight smile in return, unsure of how to answer.
A dazzling woman in a red evening gown saunters beside him, placing a hand on his bicep as her eyes rake over me, narrowed and scrutinizing. Her brown hair falls in soft curls around her breasts as she tilts her chin at me. “Do you like this one, dear?”
The man chuckles, looking down at his partner. “She’s the pop star. You remember her.”
The woman’s siren eyes light with recognition. “I do! Oh, we must have her.”
My face falls as the blood rushes past my ears. Panic seizes me, causing my muscles to coil as I stare unblinking at the floor. The man raises a hand towards Holden, calling out over the crowd about my price. The sound tunnels around me as the leader responds.
“Fifteen hundred per hour.”
“That’s a steal!” The woman bounces on her heels. “We can have her all night.”
“Eight hours,” the man returns with a smile, and his partner looks ecstatic.
“Don’t break her,” Holden grins, raising his glass. “I just got her.”
The woman links her arm with mine, her blood-red lips curling into a sinister smirk. “Oh, we don’t plan to break her. Not yet.”
Luna cuts through the crowd, extending a hand out to me as if she can stop them. Sal grabs her shoulder, dragging her back as the throng swallows her. I’m left alone, but I can feel the others’ eyes on me as I’m dragged up the staircase. Pity cuts into my skin, cementing my fate with a heavy weight in my stomach as each step takes me closer and closer to losing myself.
I want to be anywhere but here.
My mind drifts to the three bodyguards I left behind, and I picture their faces like a painting. Maddox’s quiet, softsmile as he gazes at me—like we share a secret no one will ever know. Roman’s strength, the way he acts as a shield, but he can be so caring and doting with his gentle hands that pepper me with affection. Kairo’s hearty laugh doesn’t sound as hollow and sterile as the ones downstairs. His steel eyes alight with infectious joy that seeps into my bones every time I see them.
It’s a daydream I want to live in. Even as I’m brought to a dark room, I can’t pull myself away from the three men who possess me in every sense. I’mtheirs.
The woman flicks on a light before easing down onto a brown leather chair in the corner of the room. She crosses her legs and rests her elbow on the armrest. “Give me a show, dear. I want to hear her scream with pleasure.”
I stand stock still near the door, my eyes unseeing as my skin needles with awareness. As the man’s brown shoes come into view, it causes my trance to ripple. I’m still here.With them.
The man moves my hair away from my exposed neck, his fingers ghosting over my skin. Everywhere he touches turns to molten lava, burning me alive. “My wife loves your music, you know?” He whispers low, causing my gut to churn. They’refans. I’ve never been so disgusted…
“Relax,” he coos, curling a finger into the strap of my bra before sliding it down to reveal my left nipple. The cool air bites at my skin, and my whole body feels like one big wound. Everywhere hurts, and it makes my teeth grit as those old scars surface.
“Be rough with her,” the woman flicks her hand in a shooing motion. “I want to hear that voice reach the heavens.”
The man smirks. “Please excuse my wife. She doesn’t like it when I play with my food.” He stretches his hand out faster than lightning, fisting the hair at the nape of my neck tightly before tossing me onto the bed. An involuntary sound tumbles past my lips as he covers me, and I’m no longer in my safe space—the daydream has faded, and fight or flight kicks in as I thrash wildly.
“NO! Let me go!” I scream.
