The ride back to the estate felt like a journey through a vacuum. I sat in the backseat of the sedan, my reflection ghosting against the tinted window as the city of New York blurred into streaks of neon. Gregory sat behind the wheel, his broad shoulders motionless, his eyes fixed on the road with mechanical neutrality. I wondered if he could hear the frantic staccato of my heart, or if he could smell the lingering scent of peppermint and cedar that clung to my skin like a brand.
I adjusted my tote bag, making sure the hidden zipper was flush. The USB drive was gone—out of my hands and into Liam’s—but the weight of it still felt like it was pressing against my ribs. Twenty-four hours, I told myself. Just one more day of being his doll.
As the heavy iron gates of the estate swung open to
