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Richard nodded once. “You can’t stay here anymore.”

I swallowed hard. “Well, where am I supposed to go?”

“Pack all your stuff right now,” he said. “Everything that’s important to you. Leave anything behind that you don’t need.”

He helped me pack. We moved quickly through the apartment, filling bags and another suitcase with clothes, the few pieces of jewelry I cared about, some photos, and the things that mattered. When we were done I followed him down to his car. I got in without asking questions.

He drove for about an hour, heading away from downtown Los Angeles. I started to notice the change in the air, the way the city lights gave way to darker roads and then the distant smell of the ocean. The beach. Everything felt different out here.

The drive felt like it took forever, but when Richard finally turned off the main road I knew we were somewhere I had never been. Way up the Southern California coast, far from all the mess of Los Angeles. Nothing but beach stretched out for miles and miles, the ocean dark and loud under the night sky. Not many houses around, just empty stretches of sand and water.

We wound up a narrow hill, and that was when I saw it. A big beach house sitting high up with this perfect view straight down to the water. It looked super secluded, like nobody else in the world could even find it.

Richard parked in the driveway. The house was huge but not showy, all wood and big windows, the kind of place that probably cost more than I would ever make in my lifetime.

“Get out,” he said.

I stepped out, and the salt air hit me right away. Richard took me up the steps and inside. The place opened up into this huge room with high wooden ceilings and comfortable couches facing the ocean. Big sliding glass doors led out to a wide deck hanging over the cliff. A hallway branched off toward the bedrooms. Everything felt expensive and new, like it had never been truly lived in.

“This is one of my properties,” Richard said, watching me look around. “I don’t really use it much.”

I couldn’t stop looking around the house. The big open living room with those huge windows overlooking the ocean, the nice wood floors that didn’t creak when I shifted my weight, the clean white walls with no water stains on the ceiling. Everything was so perfect and quiet. It felt like I had stepped into some kind of fairy tale. Any second I was going to wake up back in my shitty little apartment in LA or that roach-infested place in Boston.

I wandered and pushed open the door to the kitchen. The counters were cool marble under my fingertips when I ran my hand across them. I opened the refrigerator just to see. It was fully stocked with fresh food and bottles of water. I closed the door softly, then walked back into the living room and stood at the glass doors, staring out at the endless ocean. The waves rolled in far below, while the late night moon danced across the water.

I walked down the hallway in a daze and pushed open the door to the bedroom. It was huge, with vaulted high ceilings and a big beautiful canopy bed right in the middle.

Richard stayed quiet behind me, giving me the space to take it all in. My heart was hammering so hard I could barely breathe.

“It’s yours,” he said at last.

I turned around slowly, my throat tight. “What? Richie…”

I stared at him, my eyes already filling up as he stepped closer. “I still have some rules. No more stripping. No more clients. No one gets to know where you are. I’m the only one who comes here. You understand?”

I nodded fast, tears running down my face.

“You need anything, you call me. Everything’s paid for. You’re not going to want for anything.”

This place was gorgeous. And Richard gave it to me.

My chest felt too tight and too full all at once. This was everything I had ever dreamed of since I left Boston. Living on the beach, having a rich, handsome man who actually loved me enough to kill for me and clean up after me, who made sure I would never have to want for anything again. It was too much. I could barely breathe.

“I love you,” I told him, the words just falling out.

I grabbed his shirt and kissed him hard. It turned deep and hungry quick. I jumped up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He caught me easily, hands gripping my ass tight as he backed me right up against the wall. Our mouths stayed locked, tongues sliding together. I moaned into his kiss and ground against him, feeling how hard he was already getting through his pants. His hands squeezed my ass harder, pulling me tighter against him while he rocked his hips up into me. I kissed him like I was starving, biting his bottom lip, sucking on his tongue, my fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed me back just as rough, one hand sliding up under my shirt to grab my breast, thumb rubbing over my nipple through my bra until I whimpered into his mouth. I rolled my hips against the thick bulge in his pants, chasing the friction, lost in how good it felt to have him like this.

After a long time he pulled back, breathing heavy, his forehead resting against mine. “I have to go.”

He gave me one more kiss, slower and deeper, then set me down gently.

“Don’t leave the property unless I tell you.”

I nodded as I walked him to the door. I watched him head down to his car, then drive away down the hill.

As his taillights disappeared, something warm and a little crazy settled in my chest. He had brought me all the way out here. He had given me this house. He had killed for me and cleaned up after me. This was real. Richard really loved me.

I stood there in the quiet with the ocean crashing below and smiled.