She tried not to look like a starry-eyed tourist outside a celebrity home as they made their way inside.

Leo exchanged a few hushed words with a man that looked like head of security while Faith looked around the entryway. It was decorated for Christmas, and there wasn’t a nook or cranny that didn’t have an ornamental flourish or a string of glittering white lights. A high-quality sound system played Christmas carols just loud enough to notice if you paid attention, but still unobtrusive enough to go about your day without undue annoyance.

“Faith. Come with me.” Leo took her hand and led her through the marble-tiled foyer, up a grand staircase, and down a hallway.

Her heart was in her throat as he urged her inside a bedroom with a large and ornate bed. A fire roared in the fireplace, and a Christmas tree stood near the windows. A golden retriever hopped off the furniture to greet them, tail wagging and tongue lolling out.

“Hey, Max,” Leo said, bending to pet the dog.

How monstrous could the man be with a golden retriever? Though Faith knew this wasn’t a real marker of a man’s overall goodness or evil, it gave her a spark of hope.

The sitting area in front of the fireplace had a small coffee table, a couple of high-backed chairs that looked comfortable despite their opulence, and a love seat. A bathroom led off to the side, and Faith had no doubt the closets alone were probably the size of her studio apartment. At the back of the room was a large set of three bay windows with thick drapes that reached the floor. In front of the windows was a writing desk with fancy stationary and pens.

“Sit and write down your address and make a list of everything you need. There’s a heated pool here, so you might factor that in.”

Faith didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say anything. She just sat, uncapped a fountain pen, and stared dumbly at the paper. Was she a prisoner or Cinderella? Had she experienced the worst luck of her life or the best? What he was doing wasn’t okay, but here she was, surrounded by people in a nice place with a man who, despite realities she couldn’t yet cope with, was prepared to… what? Take care of her like she was his girlfriend or wife?

“Leo …” she said, forgetting herself for a minute.

He patted the dog one last time and straightened, his face stern. “Master. Not Leo to you. Ever.”

With that pronouncement, her silly little-girl fantasy came to an abrupt and screeching halt.

“I’m sorry, Master.” She’d never get used to the title. “Why are you doing all this? I don’t understand why …” It wasn’t a question of why he was doing something so immoral. The real question was why was he wrapping it so nicely, making it a seduction that part of her couldn’t help wanting to fall for?

Aside from the slavery aspect, wasn’t this what most girls fantasized about from childhood—Prince Charming swooping in and taking care of all their needs, showering them with safety and security, and living happily ever after?