“I agree—he might not at first. But after he has read the letter a few times, I wonder if it might start to add up. I wonder how Philos got his current position, whether you asked to keep him. Whether you ever said or did anything that might look suspicious. At the very least, I think we can agree posh boy would question Philos. And slaves are always questioned under torture. Your lover wouldn’t look so fucking pretty after that, even if he managed to keep his mouth shut.”

Amara’s eyes are burning. Rufina has dozed off, snuggled against her breast, as if her mother’s wretched arms were a place of safety. “How much do you want?”

“I think a monthly payment of twenty denarii would cover it.”

“We’ll have nothing to live on!”

“That’s what happens when you throw yourself away on a slave, I’m afraid. Perhaps you might have been wiser to accept another man’s offer, rather than fucking a nobody.” It is the only reference Felix has made to her rejection, but Amara can feel the anger in the way his body stiffens. His rage that she chose a slave over him. “And then there’s your lovely daughter to think about.” His voice is soft, as if he were crooning an endearment at the baby.

“Don’t touch her.”

“Such a pretty lunula she is wearing. What a shame if she were to lose it.”

“Nobody has the power to enslave her. I’m a freedwoman.”

“That hardly matters, if her paternity is exposed.”

“A child is always free, if her mother was free at the time of birth,” Amara snaps. “Don’t try and play fucking games with me.”

Felix grins, savoring her confusion. “You really don’t know, do you? We’re not in Greece now, Amara.” He is on the verge of laughter, and his unfeigned delight chills her. “I will leave her father the pleasure of explaining the situation to you.” Felix leans in close, knife pressing against her again. “And when he has, I think you will find the price I asked is cheap. So cheap in fact, I might have to raise it at some point in the future.” Felix stretches out his hand toward Rufina, and although Amara tries to twist away, she is trapped by the knife and is forced to let him rest the tips of his fingers on her daughter’s head. Fear and hate twist so tightly round her heart, Amara is unable to stop the tears that sting her eyes from falling. “Every day of your life, Amara, you will know I have the power to destroy everyone you love.” Felix takes back his hand. “Be here this time next week to pay me. Same spot, same day. And don’t bring the British bitch.” He slides his arm away from her, standing up abruptly, and walks off into the crowd without looking back.