Chapter 2

"Strip."

Dominic sat deep in the sofa, spinning a blood-stained Swiss Army knife between his fingers.

A handful of trust-fund boys lounged around him with girls draped over their arms, their eyes crawling over me with lazy amusement.

I didn't move.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. The knife came down and sank into the table.

"You deaf?"

"Didn't you say you needed money? Didn't you say you'd do anything for the right price?"

"Serena's overseas getting ready for the wedding. Those dead eyes of yours remind me of the look she gets when she's ignoring me."

Laughter broke out around the room.

"She's a bit rough, boss, but that dead-inside energy? Definitely reminds me of Serena."

"Boss is one wedding away from finishing the bet. While Serena's gone, this one could pass the time."

I looked at Dominic.

The knife was centimeters from my hand.

I could even smell the dried blood on it.

Then I lowered my head, clutched the hem of my skirt, and let my voice go small, looking every bit the helpless girl.

"One million."

Dominic paused. Then he burst out laughing.

"One million?"

"Bold mouth on you. You know what happened to the last person who tried to set terms with me?"

"Though... something about your face looks familiar."

His hand reached up and touched the corner of my eye.

Right where I'd carved that scar — ugly, deliberate, just enough to bury any trace of the resemblance I shared with Ethan.

He didn't recognize me. The plan held.

The next second, a slap cracked across my face.

"I do love the ones who'd sell their soul for a dollar."

"Ten thousand per piece. Whether you walk out with a million depends on whether you last the night."

Eyes circled me from every direction, hungry for a show.

"Boss, I think you broke her. If she can't take it, this won't be any fun."

"Then again, nobody holds a candle to his girl. That woman's got real nerve."

Dominic stared at me, already losing interest. He was about to speak —

But I pointed at the table full of liquor first.

"How about a game instead?"

"You lose, you drink. I lose, I cut myself."

"Ten cuts for a million. Deal?"

Every man in the room stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Boss, does she know how you and Serena first met? Is she trying to pull the same move?"

"Everyone knows you two hit it off over a drinking table. She's doing this on purpose while Serena's away — trying to play stand-in."

Dominic studied me for a long time.

Then he smiled.

"Interesting."

"That's real fucking interesting."

I was yanked hard into his lap.

The tip of the knife pressed against my cheek.

"I'd hate to ruin a pretty face."

"So tell me — besides money, what are you really here for?"

I held his gaze steady.

"What if I said I'm here for your heart?"

Something flickered behind his eyes.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me upright.

"You? A hostess?"

"You're not even close to worthy."

The force of it nearly tore my hair out. He dragged me across the table and bottles went crashing to the floor.

Glass bit into my arms and blood seeped through instantly.

Dominic's hand closed around my throat. He slammed me to the ground.

"You like games?"

"Then let's give everyone a real show tonight."

That whole night was a blur of pain.

They poured liquor down my throat until I choked.

Dominic kicked me hard enough to crack my ribs.

Cigarette burns dotted my arms, one after another — each one met with laughter or the click of someone's phone.

Nobody told him to stop.

When I was barely breathing, Dominic crouched down and asked if it hurt.

I didn't answer.

I just lay there with blood on my lips, staring straight at him.

Something in Dominic shifted.

"Serena..."

His voice dropped to a murmur.

The violence left his hands, replaced by something almost worse — a shaking, obsessive tenderness, like he was touching someone who wasn't there.

"Why won't you ever listen to me? Why do you keep running to those worthless men just to get under my skin?"

"Am I not enough? I'd give you my goddamn life. Why do you keep doing this to me?"

He thought I was Serena.

The woman he loved to the point of madness, and hated just as much.

The first crack in his armor.

I fought through the pain, raised a shaking hand, and gently stroked his hair.

"I was wrong. I won't leave. I'll do whatever you say from now on."

Those words — Serena Blackwell would never say them.

Not in a million years.

She was Ashworth City's princess, a rose made of razor wire. She didn't apologize. She didn't yield. She ground Dominic's dignity under her heel and watched him spiral.

That's why those words cut straight through him.

Dominic froze. Every muscle locked.

The haze in his eyes shattered in an instant. He shoved me away.

"Get out!"

"You're a goddamn hostess. Who gave you permission?"

His foot slammed into my stomach.

I curled up on the floor, coughing blood. Through the blur I watched him rip off his tie and light a cigarette with unsteady hands.

"Boring."

He blew out a cloud of smoke and flicked a check at my face.

"Take the money. Get yourself to a hospital."

"Don't die here. I don't need that mess."

I clutched the blood-soaked check against my chest.

And smiled without a sound.