He pressed me back against the wall, pressing his clothed body into my naked one. The molding bit into my back, and his silky sleep pajamas rubbed against my thighs. His eyes searched mine, furious, and something else…a dark, hidden need.

“Is that why you’re doing this?” I whispered. “Because I lied?”

Something flickered across his brow; then he stepped back, saying coldly, “Yes.”

It didn’t feel right.

None of this did.

“I don’t believe you,” I whispered.

It was his turn to shoot me an uncertain look.

He wiped it away with his apathetic mask. But I saw through that now. Something was wrong. Something he wasn’t telling me. There was something weighing his shoulders to the point of collapse.

“The contract is void,” he said coldly. “But I have the girl, so I’m feeling fucking generous. The rest of the money will be in your account tomorrow. Your job is done. Get out of Crowne Hall. Never come back.”

“You know I can’t leave!” I yelled at his back. “My uncle is dying.”

He paused. “You have no place here, Snitch. The cooks won’t take you. The maids won’t take you. Do you expect free room and board? There’s only one way you stay.”

With each second that passed, the brittle wire protecting my heart snapped. I saw what he was implying, the ugly expectation.

“No,” I whispered. “Don’t say it. I’d sooner rip out my heart, but…I’ll leave. I will. Just let me stay until Uncle p-passes. You won’t even notice me. I’ll live in my old room.”

“That room is taken now.”

“I’ll stay with my uncle. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He shook his head.

“Please, any other way. Please.”

He rubbed his sinful, plump bottom lip, pulling it out. It was like I was begging at the feet of the devil.

“Lottie needs a girl.”

My heart plummeted. “Even you aren’t that cruel.”

Lottie’s words echoed in my head, the ones she’d spoken when she’d discovered us. This is cruel, even for you.

So, so similar.

“Do you have any other option?” he asked, bored, lazy. “You need somewhere to work, right? I mean, it’s either work for her or keep working beside me. And that would raise questions, right?”

“Do you know what you’re asking me?” Tears had entirely blurred my vision. “You want me to be a mistress or work beside your wife?”

Hide forever. Keep it a dirty secret.

“You know what the girl has to do on the wedding night.”

His eyes flashed at my words.

The Crownes have wedding rituals dating back centuries, before they even came to America, and the thought of what I’d have to do…see…made me want to vomit.