Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep—
I pressed my forehead against the glass, the slight tilt in the window almost allowing me to see the pavement at the base of the building.
Fifty-one floors. Approximately twelve feet per story. Over six hundred feet total. It equaled roughly six seconds.
Six seconds between me and the pavement.
Quiet.
I pulled myself back from the glass. My father would be annoyed if I didn’t respond to his most recent email within the hour.
8:00 p.m. Home.
Matthew was waiting for me in the car. There was a banana in the back seat this time, a sandwich, and a cupcake in a small box. I moved them aside to place my bag and retrieved my laptop. Traffic was usually slower on the way home, and it allowed me to finish a few more things.
Then we were back, and I was heading up to my penthouse with my laptop in one hand and cupcake in the other. Matthew had looked at me so pitifully once we’d arrived that I took it to appease him. I put it on the counter, along with my bag, and went to check on my girls.
9:30 p.m. Shower.
This one was hotter, the water raining over my skin hot enough to turn it pink. Hot enough that it hurt a little. I stepped out once I felt lightheaded.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Matthew
Eat something.
I sent him back a thumbs-up emoji.
Someone always kept my pantry and fridge stocked, either Matthew or someone he’d instructed, but I had neither the knowledge nor the desire to cook. Instead, I ordered food while Aurelia explored the collar of my shirt.
I forced myself to eat half of it before I gave up, scrapping out the rest and sending Matthew a picture of the empty plate so he wouldn’t worry.
Then I brushed my teeth, settled Aurelia back in her tank, and went to bed right as the final alarm beeped on my wrist.
10:00 p.m. Bed.
I stared at the ceiling—at the reflection of amber and white blurs that blinked out gradually as the city went to sleep. Another day. Another week. Every day the same.
At least there were Fridays. The only time I allowed myself to visit The Veil. It had been thrilling at first. Secrecy. Adrenaline. Fear. Hope.
I’d learned quickly not to set my hopes too high. While Shady’s app did a fair job of forming matches, it was based on human responses to questions. And humans lied.
The first conversation had seemed promising. A taste of what I’d always suspected I’d like. Then we met, and he’d laughed. He couldn’t take me seriously because I was smaller than he’d expected. Because he just “couldn’t take orders from a twink.”
I’d made my matches wear blindfolds after that. It worked, as long as they were obedient and actually wore them. More often than not, they didn’t listen, and I left the moment they saw me.
I liked the control, the feeling of someone trusting me, listening to me, doing what I wanted because they wantedmyapproval. It wasn’t just about power—it was permission. Permission to be seen, to be heard. At the club, I could set the rules and know they’d be followed, and in that, there was a clarity I didn’t get anywhere else. It made me feel… capable,present, less like a cog in the machine that was Lorens Industries and more like myself, even if only for a few hours.
11:00 p.m.
11:30 p.m.
12:00 p.m.
I tried to sleep. I failed.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Too late to be Matthew, and I’d set my father to have his own tone that bypassed silent mode. When I didn’t see a notification, I opened V—invisible notifications were the default. The silver home page loaded, and a pop-up.
