A moment later, the gun went off, and even with the silencer, it was the loudest sound in the world. The bullet lodged in the wall, a couple of inches above her head.

She fought not to hyperventilate as she looked up for Leo’s reaction. Maybe he was bluffing. Maybe he would be angry at Angelo—if for no other reason than for the bullet hole in his wall. But his face remained stoic, cold. It was as if a switch had flipped inside him. There was nobody home. She was locked in a room with identical sociopaths.

Even so, she scooted closer, pressing her face against his leg, as if getting close enough to her former protector would prevent a bullet from going through her. “Please, don’t do this, Leo. I’m sorry. Please. I’ll do whatever you want. Please. Please.”

Had Angelo meant to miss? The slightest miscalculation would have killed her. Or maybe it was the slightest miscalculation that had left her breathing. It was impossible to determine the true scenario.

“Faith, I’m going to say this once,” Leo said. “I have sacrificed everything for you. Any hope of the kind of life I would want for myself. All so you can live, because I can’t take more blood on my hands. I’ve chosen not to violate you. Everything I’ve done has been unselfish and for your safety and interest. I’m sorry that your life as you knew it has been taken from you. I’m sorry you’re in this situation, but the words you speak have consequences. Do not ever imply you want to die or wish Angelo had killed you again, unless you are truly ready for death, because you might bluff, but we don’t. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.” Finally, she could breathe again. Assuming Angelo didn’t lose his temper and shoot her anyway, she’d be allowed to live this time.

“Good.”

Angelo didn’t disguise his disgust. “You better please him, little girl. You were intended as a gift.”

When he was gone, Leo helped her stand.

“L-Leo?”

“Yes, Faith?”

“Are you going to make me… I mean are we going to… ” Are you going to rape me? Are you going to beat me? Are you going to chain me in your dungeon? Are you going to hurt me? But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of those awful things, so instead, she looked at him helplessly, praying he could read her mind. After all, he’d told her not to say things she didn’t mean or there would be consequences, and she’d said she’d do whatever he wanted to live. And she knew exactly what he wanted.

Her first night here, when she’d been afraid and cried and begged him, he’d been affected by her tears. This morning it was as if he were farther away, harder to reach and reason with. How long until nothing could sway him to show her mercy? How long until his sexual frustration peaked? Living here with him wasn’t safe. It was only temporary safety. When the safety ended and he took what he’d been aching to have, would she wish for death and mean it? How would she know?