Who is that man’s boss, and why has he chosen me? I remember my mother telling me about the men who’d been making threats against me, why that was the reason she’d felt she’d had no other choice but to have my father killed so she could pay his debt and remove him from our lives forever. The pain I feel over knowing that happened is overwhelming. So much of my life has been a lie. What have I ever done to deserve this?

Though a part of me wants to give in and accept my fate, the other part wants to fight. I’ve been through so much already, I can’t just give in. I want to live. I want to make it back to my men and see if we have a future together.

Maybe my attempt to escape didn’t work the first time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try again. Whoever has me clearly doesn’t think I’m much of a threat, because they’ve left my hands and feet unbound. They’ve locked me in this cage, and they believe that is enough.

In my mind’s eye, I picture the open door at the top of the stairs and the freedom that lies beyond.

My captor hadn’t been distracted enough, that was all. I’d only had that split second while he bent to put down the bowl. I’d needed something bigger, something that would have disabled him, or kept him occupied for longer, and then I’d have made it.

I don’t let myself think beyond getting out of the door or the people I might have to face.

I pick up the empty water bowl and bang it against the metal bars.

“Hey!” I yell up at the ceiling. “Hey, I need more water! I’m thirsty.”

I crash metal against metal once more, vibrations running up my fingers and arm. To my surprise, making the noise reenergizes me. It’s given me a voice. I yell and stamp and bang, certain those assholes above me can hear. I hope they’re trying to do something that needs silence, and I’m being as annoying as hell.

I just need him to come back down here, to unlock the gate and leave the door open.

“I need water! I’m thirsty! Hey, you fucking assholes. You hear me? I’m thirsty.”

I’m making myself even thirstier by shouting, but if I can get out of here, that won’t matter.

With all the noise I’ve made without anyone trying to silence me, I wonder if it means I’m nowhere anyone else can hear me. They’re clearly not worried about the neighbors hearing and asking questions. I must be somewhere remote.

Just as I’m about to run out of steam, the door at the top of the stairs opens.

“Jesus Fucking Christ. Would you shut the hell up? Who knew you’d be such a little brat.”

It’s him again, the man with the pale eyes.

“I’m thirsty. I spilled my water.”

He shakes his head and makes his way back down the stairs. He comes to a halt at the gate of the cage.

It occurs to me that he can just reach through the bars and take the bowl from me. Shit. I need to do something more, so he’ll open the gate.

“And it’s cold in here.” I deliberately shiver and rub at my bare arms. I hate that I’m about to do this, but I have no choice. I need to get him in here. “Look, my nipples are hard.”

He snaps his face down to my chest.

Feeling sick, but doing it anyway, I cup my breasts over the top of my tank top and run my thumbs over my nipples. “I’m so cold. I need something to warm me up.”

His eyes, fringed with equally pale lashes, go round, pale blue glittering behind the mask. “Is that right?”

“Maybe I need a big man to warm me up.” I swallow hard, aware of how wrong this could all go. “You want to touch them?”

All he’s thinking with is his cock. He reaches into his back pocket to retrieve the key to the gate, fumbles it a little, and then manages to unlock it. He swings open the gate and enters. I take a step back, doing my best to draw him in.

“My nipples are very sensitive,” I say. “I love them being sucked, too.”

He hesitates. “The boss won’t like me touching you.”

I flutter my lashes. “No one needs to know.”

That he’d actually believe I’d want him only attests to his egotism. I hate that I’m exposing myself to this asshole, but I don’t have much going for me right now. I must use what I have. I pull down the front of my top, revealing most of my left breast, the pink areola peeping from behind the material.

He lets out a low growl and strides forward to bring himself in front of me. His hand finds my breast, and he yanks my top and my bra down, revealing it fully. My nipple puckers further as cold air hits it.