Minutes passed, then the men leaned against the wall and waited. The numbness in my mouth gave just a little, and I barely licked my lips. When the door opened, all I saw were blue eyes staring into mine. I tried to move my arms and legs, anything, but I couldn't.

No. No. No, this cannot be happening.

Luke walked near me, leaned over my body, and whispered in my ear, "Surprise."

The numbing feeling I'd been experiencing since I had been there completely overtook me. I was losing myself and nothing seemed real anymore. Luke, one of the only men I trusted, did this to me?

When he pulled away from me, he looked me in the eyes and smiled.

"I hate you," I choked out.

But he continued to smile, a look that I had once held so much adoration for, now held none of that. It was now tainted.

He said so softly, "one day you'll regret that you said that."

"When Finnley finds out—"

He raised his arms and mocked me. "When Finnley finds out, oh when fucking Finnley finds out." He cut his smile off instantly. "How does the saying go? Blood is thicker than water? Or in your case, thicker than a whore."

The two scoundrels in the room chuckled and heat rushed to my face. Luke grabbed my cheeks hard and forced me to look at him.

"He doesn't give a shit about you. He never did."

My heart hurt. I pulled back from the situation and brought my mind to the dark place that I hated to visit. The one that replayed my parents’ funeral, the reckless girl in the hospital, and my anger built. He held my cheeks so hard in his grasp that they throbbed when he let go.

The cab driver placed a set of keys in Luke's palm.

"To her room, since you've paid for the bitch."

I moved my eyes between them and tried to comprehend what was going on. The other punk continued to lean against the wall and watch me. I shot him the most hateful looks I could conjure up without being in full control of my body.

"You'll be saying 'fuck you' with your eyes when he's fucking you. Making you his bitch. Taking your virginity away." He pointed toward Luke, who stood confidently cool and comfortable. But I didn't understand. Luke knew I wasn't a virgin anymore. Didn't he? Yes, he fucking did.

"You do owe me a good fuck, don't you," Luke said before he exited the room with his minions behind him.

I sat and stared at the wall, unable to move, and then closed my eyes. Luke, sweet innocent loving Luke, was not the man I expected him to be. My entire reality had changed with one look into those blue eyes.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of the door closing. My bastard placed a set of black lingerie, high heels, and thigh-highs on the table with the tray of mystery mush. The same routine continued. Wake, eat bland food, and dress in the clothes he brought. Then I'd be bound and led to the cage as naked women danced on stage. I stared at him with emptiness in my eyes.

Everything that I thought I knew was wrong. Everything.

"Take a shower before you dress," he said before he left the room. Just the same as always, I wasn't allowed a moment to respond. That was the most he had ever directly spoken to me. His voice was deep, but not demanding, and I knew he shouldn't be crossed. A dangerous look camped in his eyes, and I didn't want to find out what he was capable of. I did as I was told.

When I turned on the faucet, sludge dripped from it, until it finally ran clear. After I rinsed my body with the soap that dried my skin, I stood with a towel wrapped around me and looked at the little pile of fabric while contemplating my next move.

I wanted to rebel.

I resisted dressing once, and my bastard stripped me of my clothes and left me naked for a day. I learned my lesson and knew then that I had no choice. It was obey orders or be left with nothing. I would dress, but did so grudgingly.

The fit was familiar, and I knew they had come from my favorite shop in the heart of Vegas. As much as I loved the lingerie, I couldn't help but resent wearing it. The pieces were slowly starting to fit together. I knew for a fact that I was no longer in Europe. The motherfuckers had flown me back to the good ol’ U.S. of A. Did Finnley know that I wasn't in London? Was he still searching abroad, or had he given up on me? Did he know his brother had planned this? Luke brought me to Paris, built up a level of confidence with me, then had his people capture me at that moment when I would go to Finnley. The planning it must have taken to accomplish this with one ultimate goal in mind: fuck me without his brother getting in the way.

But all the jagged pieces didn't completely fit together. Which part did I miss? Luke could have fucked me in Paris that night when we drank too much, but he didn't. Was it a part of his plan because he knew the end result of it all?

I hated him.

I fucking despised him with every bone in my body.

Luke told me to go to Finn, to be with him, secretly knowing that I wouldn't make it back to the car, that I would never see his brother again. I was thinking too much, calculating every move it must have taken, and I needed to stop.

For once, I hated the pretty panties and bra that seemed as if they were made for whoever wore them. I put on the thigh-highs but left the heels on the table until I was forced to wear them. I would be forced, no doubt about it in my mind.

The time ticked on, and I closed my eyes hoping it was all a horrible nightmare, but I knew better. What I lived was my new reality.

When the door opened, I wished I wouldn't have looked.

"Stand up," Luke demanded.

I rolled my eyes at him, which only caused him to storm toward me and jerk me by my arm.

"When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it," he said. The minions entered. Luke snarled and demanded them with a snap. Over his shoulder, he said, "Bring me the shoes." Cab driver grabbed the heels and shoved them at me. Luke watched me as I dropped them on the floor and took my sweet time slipping them on. I stood eye level to him with the heels on, but refused to look into his eyes. I couldn't stand them anymore.

"Get on your knees."

I looked at him as if he was joking, but his stature didn't waver.

"Now."

I hesitated, and he ran his fingers through my hair, grabbed a fistful, and forced my ear close to his mouth. His warm breath hit my skin as he whispered, "Don't make me fucking hurt you." His grasp tightened on my hair, and I dropped down. My knees hit the hard concrete, and I winced.

"Hands behind your back."

I sucked in a deep breath and did as he said. He would have to force me every step of the way. Luke stepped back and spoke with his back toward me.

"Each time I enter this room, I want you down on your fucking knees."

He looked at the minions and demanded them out. Then he coolly pulled a chair up and sat in front of me, watching me, waiting for me to falter. But I wouldn't.

I stared at a spot in the middle of the floor as he comfortably sat above me. My knees throbbed with pain, but I didn't move. Mind over matter.

"Do you have any fucking idea how much you mean to me?"

I continued to look at the spot.

"The things I would do for you?"

I looked into his eyes, and something flickered behind them.

Hurt? Anger? Hate? Could it be hate?

"Of course you don't. You never gave a shit about me or my feelings and why would you? You were nothing more than a whore my brother commissioned. Now you're at my mercy. You're at the will of me, your master. The one who now owns you."