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That was the last thing Ryder wanted to hear. “Arlo, this isn’t the place for⁠—”

“We’re sitting around here waiting on logistics with nothing to do. A little company never hurt anyone.” Arlo’s eyes moved to Cassandra on her knees and his mouth curved. “Besides. I want to see how this works.” He nodded toward Cassandra. “A woman who does whatever you tell her? That’s something I’d like to see more of.”

Heath looked at his brother. Looked at Ryder. Said nothing, which in Heath’s language meant he wasn’t going to overrule it.

Ryder’s options had just gone from bad to nonexistent. He couldn’t get her out tonight.

Arlo straightened up. “Just keep your personal life from waking up the whole house.” He looked at Heath. “We good?”

Heath was looking at Cassandra on her knees. Then at Ryder. His face hadn’t changed, but something behind it had. The suspicion wasn’t gone. Ryder hadn’t expected it to be. But it had shifted shape, moved from who is this woman and why is she here to something more patient. More watchful.

The kind of suspicion that didn’t need answers tonight because it planned to collect them over time.

“We’re good. For now.”

For now was a promise, not a concession. Ryder heard it clearly.

“Then everybody back to bed.” Arlo disappeared down the hallway. The crew followed. Heath left last, taking his time about it, and Ryder felt those eyes on his back until the hallway swallowed him.

The kitchen emptied.

Ryder reached down and took Cassandra’s arm. “Get up. Come with me.”

She stood. Her legs weren’t steady. He kept his hand on her arm and walked her down the corridor, past the closed doors, into his room. Shut the door. Locked it.

He stood with his back facing Cassandra and his forehead pressed against the door and let the silence settle. His hands were shaking now. Just slightly, just enough that he pressed them flat against his thighs to make them stop. The performance was over, and the cost of it was arriving in pieces, landing in his body one hit at a time.

He’d told her to kneel. He’d used her word. He’d made her submit in front of men who looked at her like property, and she’d done it because she trusted him enough to do what he asked without understanding why.

Behind him, Cassandra’s breathing was ragged. He turned around. She was standing right there, close enough to touch, still in the black clothes, and her eyes were wet and confused and locked on his face because he’d told her to keep them there and she was still doing it.

“Ryder.” Barely a whisper. “What just happened?”

He had no idea how to explain what needed to come next.

He had no idea how to tell the woman who’d kissed him in her kitchen three days ago that she was now his submissive inside a house full of men who would kill them both if the performance slipped for a single second.

He had no idea how he was going to keep them both alive.

Chapter 16

Cassandra looked around the small and dim room. She knew where she was, knew how she’d gotten here, but at the same time, everything was fuzzy.

What in the world had just happened?

She was on the bed, sitting with her back against the wall and her knees pulled up. Her hands were wrapped around her shins, and they wouldn’t stop shaking. A migraine was pressing against her skull but not nearly with the force it should be after being surrounded by a group of strangers.

Because Ryder had stopped the spiral.

They’d been caught in the kitchen. Bright light. Voices she didn’t recognize. Hands on her body that weren’t Ryder’s.

More people walking in. The spiral. Being unable to stop it.

Then looking at him and…kneeling?

Kneeling. She’d knelt on a floor.

Why had she knelt on a floor?