Thennothing.
For the rest of class, he didn’t say a word.
It almost—no, itdidpiss me off that he didn’t glance my way once.
He simply scrolled on his phone and pretended to pay attention to Professor Nelson.
His silence should’ve been a relief, but instead, it irritated the shit out of me.
Out of stubbornness, I wrote all my class notes by hand and didn’t open the MacBook once.
When class ended, he stood while looking over at me and said, “I’ll be at your dorm at seven. Be ready.”
Enzo telling me to go anywhere with him should’ve been an immediate hell no.
A million red flags waving at once.
Arun as far as you canwarning.
But it wasn’t like saying no to him was a choice.
Deep down, I didn’t want to refuse him either.
My dread of being a Fawn was matched by an almost-obsessive curiosity about it.
The wordFawnsounded so harmless and gentle. Innocent and vulnerable.
A small, fluffy creature, driven by instinct more than understanding. One who trusted the world before realizing how cruel it could be.
From what I’d heard about how the Sons treated their Fawns, why would anyone want this?Why would families want this for their daughters?
But society had always favored wealthy, powerful men.
Even if they were monsters.
Yet at what point does the cost stop being worth it?
Every time I tried to piece everything together, it made me dizzy.
“Did you open your new phone yet?” Daphne asked.
I held up the latest iPhone model. Enzo had transferred the few contacts I’d had, but everything else was gone. My apps. Myplaylists. My notes. Even the stupid trivia game I played when I couldn’t sleep.
His name now sat at the top of my Contacts list.
And by name, it wasThe Man Who Owns Me.
He’d also saved himself as my emergency contact.
The new MacBook sat on my desk untouched.
It was a newer version of the one he’d stolen from me. I had to admit, the upgrade was nice. My old laptop was scratched and had started running slow. I’d put off asking my stepfather for a new one. I tried to keep my requests to him at a minimum.
I dropped my phone onto my bed. “Where do you think Enzo is taking me?”
She tipped a vodka bottle to her lips, took a long swallow, then chased it with Coke Zero. “Could be the library.” She pointed the can at me. “Could be hell. Let’s just pray it’s not for another dip in the fountain.”
I playfully narrowed my eyes at her.
