I say nothing.
He sighs like I’m exhausting him and heads for the door. Then pauses. “Listen very carefully,” he says, tone pleasant but deadly. “You take orders from Alexei and me. You fuck that gorgeous woman whenever she wants. So long as I'm not fucking her. Do your job.” He glances back at me. “Got that?”
My throat tightens, but I nod once.
“Good.” He smiles again. “Because if you disobey any of us, you’ll feel fucking pain.”
The door shuts behind him. The silence that follows is loud. I stay where I am, staring at the marble, waiting for my hands to stop shaking. Another city. Another penthouse. Another cage. And tonight, apparently, I get to meet the men who hold the keys to it.
Chapter three
EMMA EASTON
The first thing I register when I wake up is that I’m in my own bed again. I feel the comfortable weight of my comforter and the lavender spray Heather insists on using to keep me calm. Sunlight slips through the blinds in thin lines. It’s such a familiar atmosphere, yet I feel more different than ever. A month ago, I was a successful and relatively happy woman, living the peaceful life I had built for myself out of struggle. And then I allowed Jude back into my life. Part of me hates myself for it, but I also feel I am meant to help him. If anyone can help him, it’s me, right? Love is supposed to conquer all. That’s how it is in the movies, anyway.
And I know he still loves me.
For a moment, I don’t move. I just listen to the muffled sound of voices drifting in from the kitchen. Micah’s laugh. Heather shushing him in frustration.
My chest tightens at the fact that Jude isn’t out there, laughing with them. Or with me, sleeping soundly with his arm draped over my side. I push myself up slowly, the room tilting like I’m on a hostile sea. My body feels awful everywhere inside. It feels like the pain my clients often describe to me. It’s like there’s...air trapped inside my veins, and it’s stretching them before they all burst simultaneously. A unique and brutal kind of anxiety I have never felt before. My throat is raw from screaming myself awake more than once last night.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit there, breathing until the damn room calms down. Someone left a glass of water on my nightstand with two orange prescription bottles beside it. Heather’s handwriting is sharp and bossy on a sticky note.
Drink. Eat something. Medicate. Don’t argue.
I snort, but there’s really no humor in it. Every step down the hallway requires my hand on the wall to steady myself. The kitchen smells like coffee and toast.
Heather is leaning against the counter in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, phone pressed to her ear. Micah sits at the table, elbows spread, tearing apart a piece of peanut butter toast. They both look up when they see me.
“Hey,” Micah says softly, already standing.
Heather hangs up mid-sentence. “Good morning.”
I don’t make it all the way to the counter before she’s in front of me, hands on my arms, eyes scanning my face in that clinical way she does. I suppose there are benefits to my best friend being a nurse.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
She nods like that answers enough. Dr. Cassie’s voice echoes in my head from yesterday when I called to tell her that I was in the hospital. She spoke to me in a way that made me cry harder than anything else.
You’re not failing, Emma. You’re injured. There’s a difference. Take your time recovering.
She told me she’d handle the studio. That my clients would be fine and my income would be untouched as I stepped away to heal.
Take the break,she’d said.Let me carry this for a while. You’ve put so much work into this place. Keep me updated.
Heather pours me coffee without asking. Micah pulls out a chair. “I took time off,” she says casually. “I can take as much time as I need to while we figure this stuff out.”
My throat tightens. “You didn’t have to—”
“I did,” she cuts in gently. “So don’t make it weird.”
Micah nods. “You’re obviously not doing this alone.”
I sit, sipping the coffee, focusing on the mug’s warmth in my hands.
“Nova’s fed and is out back enjoying the sun,” Heather says.
