I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes I felt him again—the stretch, the heat, the way he’d held me down on his lap while the city lights blurred outside the windows. And underneath all of it sat the colder, sharper knowledge that somewhere in the cloud a video of me riding my bodyguard’s c**k was waiting to upload to the server my father checked every single night.
At 11:58 I had stood in the dark of my bathroom and refreshed the secure app on my phone like a woman possessed. At 12:01 the buffer cleared. No new files. No alerts. Marcus had done something. I didn’t know what, and the not-knowing sat in my stomach like ice.
Morning came too bright and too normal.
I came downstairs in a soft sweater and leggings, hair still damp from the shower, trying to look like a girl who had si
