She only stiffened more. If he started touching her, what would make him stop? She’d seen his arousal whenever he was near her. He wanted to fuck her. Whatever stopped him from doing it, could break down at any time. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks. And then they were less silent, causing her shoulders to shake as she tried to keep her emotions within her control.

“You can’t do this when my family arrives. You have to stop now or I’ll have no choice but to keep you in the dungeon.”

“No, p-please, M-master. I’ll try to do better. Please give me a chance.”

This time, it was Leo who stiffened and went still. Faith wasn’t sure why she’d called him that. She was so confused. Ever since he’d mentioned the dungeon and the threat of being kept down there, she couldn’t think of herself as a house guest anymore—if she’d ever been able to maintain that delusion in the first place. She wanted to appease him, make him happy enough with her so she could stay alive and safe.

“You can’t call me that when they’re here. And you can’t accidentally slip. So start calling me Leo.”

A burning flush came into her cheeks. It was humiliating enough being forced to call him Master when he’d demanded it, but to say it unbidden and have him correct her made her want to die.

“I-I’m sorry, L-Leo.”

“And you’ve got to get rid of that stutter.”

It was so much pressure. No stuttering. No cringing. No fear. How was she going to make people believe they were engaged, let alone in love? She’d have to if she wanted to survive in this house. She’d have to make herself believe it if she wanted them to believe it. She’d have to let go of all her reservations and try to embrace the fantasy, however briefly it lasted.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said.

She wracked her brain trying to come up with something. He didn’t know a lot about her, even with the questionnaire, but she couldn’t pull an important enough piece of information out of her head. At least not one she felt safe sharing.

“It can be anything. I want to get to know you better.” But it wasn’t the words of a boy on a date with a girl. It was the words of a man hell-bent on acting out a Machiavellian play.

“Until a few months ago, I had two cats. The other one was older and sick a lot so she had to be put to sleep. I thought about getting a kitten because Squish got lonely and depressed, but…”

“But?”

Faith looked down at her hands. “Your brother happened.”

“I see.”

He was quiet for a long time, stroking her hair until she started to relax against him. She closed her eyes and pretended it was a boyfriend or a date—someone she’d gone freely with. Someone she liked and trusted. Her breath slowly began to even out. If he wanted her to do this acting job for his family, he wouldn’t hurt her before they got here.