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When I was forced into this, it was fear that drove me, of course.

I grew up inside a nightmare, and I know exactly how far human evil and madness can go.

I had no idea what to expect from Beau LeBlanc. Just because he’s an enemy of those monsters doesn’t make him trustworthy. On the contrary, he might be just as dangerous, if not more so. I knew I had to be cautious when I met him. But nothing prepared me for the physical pull I felt—that webothfelt.

It was like every part of him was drawing me in, and more than once tonight, I wished everything between us was real, that I was just a girl who had met a beautiful man.

But in the real world, our paths would never have crossed.

Beau lives in the world of billionaires. They don’t even see the rest of us.

Besides, even if in some wild twist of fate we had met under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t have been a relationship, as he made perfectly clear. Just one or more nights of sex.

And I’m not emotionally equipped to handle someone like him.

If it weren’t for his last words, I’d regret having to walk away right now. After what happened last week, I need a break, a chance to catch my breath. I haven’t been sleeping.

I needed to pretend, for one night, that I’m not terrified.

As crazy as it sounds, I was actually enjoying his company and all the things he made me feel, things I’d never felt before. Desire, butterflies, a racing heart just from breathing in hisscent. The heat of his hands on my skin. That kiss that knocked me out of orbit.

And then, his final words brought me crashing back to the real world.

Powerful men like Beau are only ever looking for a good time. The articles I read while doing research on him were clear: he’s a playboy who avoids commitment.

I’d have to be a complete idiot to let a man I know nothing about shake me like this, especially while my life is in complete chaos.

It was all just a game—and now it’s over.

Some guys try to stop me as I walk, but I’m done being polite. I push past them however I can, brushing off the unwanted attention.

Even after I make it out of the club and the fresh air hits my lungs, I still feel overwhelmed.

Nervously, I glance around until I spot a row of taxis a few yards away.

I send a message—just like we agreed—to the men who sent me here, using the burner phone they gave me. It’s not my usual cell.

Me: I’m leaving.

The reply comes fast.

Unknown Number:We know. We’ll be in touch.

My heart pounds so hard it makes me nauseous.

Me: That’s not what we agreed on. You said you’d let her go.

Unknown Number:You’re not in a position to demand anything, Amber. We’ll be in touch.

I get into the first cab I find, chilled to the bone.

They lied to me.

This isn’t over.

Same night

One hour later