Page 33

?Dr. Garrison said four to six weeks.”

She hisses and lets the shirt drop, circling back around to face me.

“Is she on birth control?”

My brows furrow and I frown, wondering why she’s asking him and how the hell Rio would even know that.

“Garrison said she has the IUD.”

Tears begin to build, and it takes effort to keep them at bay. It makes me want to vomit that I was violated like that. I had no idea he checked, which means he did it while I was unconscious.

She hums, pleased by that, and finally address me directly. “Do you know who I am?”

It takes a few seconds to rein my emotions in, but I manage to swallow them down enough to answer her.

“Francesca,” I say confidently, inserting as much volume in my voice as possible. She doesn’t present herself as the type of person who’d appreciate mumbling.

That’s the good thing about being a writer, I suppose. I’ve built and crafted so many imaginary personalities that it doesn’t take much to figure out the ones in real life.

Francesca, here, has no patience and doesn’t tolerate insolence, laziness, or weakness. She exudes strength, and that’s what she expects in return. Not to be confused with defiance, of course.

She pops a manicured eyebrow up her forehead. “Yes,” she says. “That’s my name. But that’s not what I asked you.”

Frowning, my brows knit, unsure how to respond. Before I can figure it out, her long acrylic nails pinch my cheeks. I inhale sharply, the talons digging into my skin as she pulls my face into hers, a calm but menacing expression on her face.

“I am your madam. You will not speak, act or even think without my permission first, you understand me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, though the sound comes out garbled between my pinched lips. She pushes my face away harshly, causing me to lose my footing and land on my ass. A puff of air escapes me from the impact, followed by a whimper, and I screw my eyes shut as pain rackets up my spine.

These assholes don’t want the product bruised and bloody yet can’t keep their goddamn hands off me. Makes a whole lot of fucking sense.

I don’t need to be an expert in the skin trade to know that no one wants to eat a bruised apple. They want nice, shiny apples to sink their teeth into and rip apart themselves, piece by piece.

Francesca sniffs, peering down at me with disdain. Blowing out a slow breath, I meet her stare, working hard to keep even a hint of anger out of my eyes.

“Obedience is the number one thing I ask of you. I personally don’t like to administer drugs to keep the girls compliant. I like my girls lucid and in control as it makes for a better experience for our buyers. No one wants a drug-addicted whore who can barely keep her eyes straight and fist a cock properly. That means if you disobey me or fail to do as I instruct, you will be punished. Understood?”

I drop my eyes before she can see the emotion spit from them like grease in a hot skillet. Swallowing down the rock in my throat, I choke out, “Yes, ma’am.”

She makes a sound of aversion. “Never call me that. Reminds me of my mother,” she snaps, muttering the last part.

“How would you like me to address you?” I ask, finding the courage to look up and meet her eyes once more.

I know what I’d like to fucking call the evil bitch.

Rio chortles from the doorway but sobers when Francesca shoots a pointed look over her shoulder.

She trains her narrowed gaze on me, seeming to contemplate something.

“Just call me Francesca,” she responds. “Rio here is going to implant a tracking device and tattoo your Slave ID. Everyone gets one, and they will only be covered once you have your master.”

My heart shrivels and dies the moment she mentions a tracking device. I’m not sure why I’m surprised, but it sends a fresh dose of panic into my bloodstream, twisting my gut painfully. Tears begin to burn the backs of my eyes, the hopelessness deepening.

“Yes, Francesca,” I force out, my back hunching from the emotions circulating throughout my body, so potent that they nearly disintegrate my spine and send me crumbling to the floor at her feet.

As temporary as it is, she appears pleased and heads for the door, pausing to look Rio in the eyes and order, “Keep her sedated. We’ll let her heal for a week before she’s required to acclimate in the house and begin her lessons. You broke her, you fix her, so she will be your responsibility until further notice.”

His lips tighten, but he nods. Despite the fact that I was just told I’m going to be tagged like cattle, there’s a pinch of relief circulating throughout my body. The second she disappears, firmly shutting the door behind her, I get up as quickly as my broken body can handle and shuffle towards the bed, flopping down on it.