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Like I’ll ever be able to fall asleep with her down there.

I have to try. I log out of the CCTV app. Chug down the remainder of my whiskey then put it back on the table.

Then—because I’m definitely not going to her cell—I call Oliver. I should’ve done that earlier, but fuck him. Fuck this tradition.

“James. Took you long enough.” Suspicion taints his voice. “I was expecting to hear from you hours ago.”

He’s smart to suspect me.

“Sorry, you’re right. We were done with her hours ago.”

“Then?”

My business partner tends to forget that I don’t answer to him or anybody. “Are you done with yours?”

His heavy footsteps echo in the background. Oliver is bulkier than I am. The man walks like a fucking bear.

“Baylor. Yes.” A door slams. More footsteps and a huff.

I’m sure he’s dropped into the gray loveseat in his bedroom in South Hampton.

In the house overlooking the ocean. “This little blonde, I swear. Tears and mascara never looked so hot on anyone. She wept, James. Fucking wept. Got on her knees in the middle of the living room and begged. Told Camden she loved him. That she’d thought they were going to get married.

A fucking eighteen-year-old begged him to be her husband.

I can only hope she repeats this performance tomorrow. ”

Our buyers will eat that shit up.

Repulsive. All of them.

“She did?” I get up, strolling to the window. Looking outside at the howling rain.

“Yes.”

He goes on and on. How they locked her up in a room in their attic. How she banged on the floor while they clinked their champagne flutes.

Reminds me of the stories he told me about his virgin. Only his dad beat him up every time she screamed.

I let him talk while I think.

I was going to dump him. I don’t belong to him.

Camden’s so-called girlfriend talked about marrying him. Ophelia was about to break up with my son.

She could have been lying. On the other hand…Topher did tell me she’d called him and said they needed to talk.

I press one hand on the window, feeling the vibrations of the harsh weather. Staring at my tattoo, a reminder of who we are and what we’re doing.

A reminder of the establishment I’m going to take down.

Of the women I’m going to save.

Of Ophelia.

In the midst of Oliver’s boasting, I decide that she wasn’t lying about coming here to break up with Topher. She looked too fucking honest when she snarled it in my face. She really did mean to end their relationship.

A sense of sick satisfaction ripples through me. Makes my blood hot, and my balls tighten.

Why would she, though? Topher is handsome. Smart. On the path to success as a partner in our law firm. He didn’t cheat on her. The man I have following him would’ve reported it back to me.

“The two layers of isolation we installed between the second floor and the attic proved their worth.” Oliver chuckles in the background. “Pretty sure she would’ve broken through the wood panels of the original construction.”

“Sounds like it.” The rain pelts down outside, as incessant as my thoughts of the woman I hold captive. In the cell I built last year as a part of my plan to deceive the three other men.

“What about yours? Forgot her name.” He chuckles, and I’m glad that he can’t remember it.

She isn’t his.

Isn’t yours, either.

“Ophelia.” My heart thuds loudly. My mouth waters as I taste her name on my tongue. I fake a yawn to mask my attraction to her. “Nothing special about her.” Liar . “Like the rest of them. Cried. Begged. Bartered.” Was about to claw my eyes out. Fucking hot. “Bored me to tears.”

“You’re joking.” He sounds surprised. He believes me. “After over twenty-one years of waiting for this, you were bored.” A pause. I stay quiet. Won’t oversell it. “No wonder you didn’t call. Fuck, what a disappointment. You sure you want to put this one up for auction tomorrow?”

No. Fuck no. But it’s better for everyone involved that we get the show on the road as soon as possible. The faster we do, the faster I can end the women’s suffering.

“Yes.”

“The night isn’t over, James.” Knowing Oliver, he’s running his hand through his brown hair. Over his jaw. Unlike me, he’s always shaved. “I could unlock Baylor’s phone, get you the addresses of some of her friends. You and Topher could go on the hunt. Grab one from her home instead of?—”

Before he can say her name, I cut in. “No. Topher chose her. I won’t meddle with his initiation.”

“So ask him to reconsider.”

“Remember my father?” The rain no longer holds my interest. This phone call is getting on my last nerve.

“Do I remember? Of course I do.” Oliver snorts.

I wasn’t the only one to loathe Arthur Hawthorne.

Oliver wasn’t the only one to despise Aaron Morgan.

“The way he gave you hell for not torturing them until they cried. Fine, yeah. I get it. He meddled. You won’t.

Keep the fucking girl. Let’s hope someone else won’t be as bored. ”

“Different strokes for different folks and all that.”

“Yeah.”

Putting her up there is a necessary, temporary evil, but fuck.

It has my pulse spiking.

“Talk tomorrow.” I hang up without giving him a chance to answer.

Tomorrow, she’ll belong to the world.

After that, she’ll be hidden somewhere no one will find her.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, Ophelia is still mine.