It comes all at once.
Arsen sees it.
Something unreadable flickers across the good side of his face, then vanishes just as fast. He steps back like the moment is over. Like whatever he came in here for, he got it.
He turns toward the door.
“Arsen.” I hate the way my voice shakes.
He stops. Just enough to let me know he heard me.
Then he looks back.
I grip the bars. “Iknowyou.”
His expression hardens instantly. “You don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” My throat feels raw, but I keep going anyway. “I know you didn’t want this life.”
That gets me the smallest pause.
“You don’t know anything about me, Ayla.”
I laugh once, bitter and breathless. “Don’t I? We’re cut from the same cloth.”
He says nothing.
So I push.
“You thinkIwanted this?” I gesture at the cage, the bars, the whole rusted metal nightmare around me. “You think I want to be born into this shit and end up here because men keep deciding what I’m worth and where I belong?”
My voice sharpens with every word. “You think this is what I wanted, Arsen?”
For one second, something flashes in his eye.
Not softness. Not even mercy. Something worse.
Recognition.
Then it’s gone. His face closes over.
“Ayla, because I know you,” he says quietly, “I can’t treat you the way I treat the other girls.”
Ice floods my chest.
I stare at him.
“Well,” I say, voice thin and mean, “thank fuck for that.”
His mouth twitches, but it isn’t amusement.
“Your mouth is so damn sharp, Ayla,” he says. “Gets you in trouble every fucking time.”
He reaches for the light switch.
My pulse jumps.
“What Imean,” he says, “is I have to keep you weak.”
