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My heart stops. The words just sit there between us for a moment, and I stare back at him, waiting for him to admit this is all a joke, waiting for him to grin and tell me that this is nothing more than his twisted attempt at lightening the mood.

But he doesn’t. He just stares back at me, waiting for me to respond, as though there is anything I can say to an accusation like that.

I whip my hand back from him.

"What are you talking about?” I fire back. "Selling people? For sex? You’re crazy."

"I’m not," he mutters. "I wish I was, but I’m not. My family has been keeping watch on him for a long time. A few of the girls he forced to work for him, they got out and came to us. As soon as my father found out what he had been doing, he vowed to put a stop to it. He doesn’t take kindly to men like that, men who use and abuse other people’s bodies. .."

My head is spinning, the corners of my eyes fluttering with clouds.

I can’t make sense of this. I can’t believe this, not a word that is coming out of his mouth.

My father might be into some dark things, sure, but sex trafficking.

.. that’s insane. He would never—there is no way that he would have been able to do something like that without me knowing about it.

"You’re lying," I spit at him, as I take a step back from him, shaking my head. "You really think he’s involved in that? That he would do that?"

"Yes, Cara," he replies, his eyes narrowing as they lock on to mine. "You really think we would have done all of this if it wasn’t something serious? If we didn’t have any choice but to go through with it? We can’t just stand aside and let a monster like that?—"

"Don’t call my father a monster!” I exclaim. I’m not even sure why I’m defending him. It’s not like he’s exactly been on my side, but he is still my dad. I can’t help but wonder if Max sees some part of him in me, sees that same evil that he so clearly wants to destroy.

"If he doesn’t want to be called a monster, he shouldn’t act like one," he contests hotly. "I know what he’s done. And I know he’s tried to keep you out of that part of his life, but you must be able to see now what he’s capable of, everything that he’s?—"

"You’re talking about my father!” I blurt out, and my voice cracks, giving away the intensity of my emotion before I can stop it.

I realize tears have sprung to my eyes, and I whip my hands up, wiping them away before he can see them.

I am not going to let him see me like this.

I refuse to allow him to know that he’s managed to get under my skin in such a way.

I want to scream, to batter my fists against his chest, but I know that it wouldn’t change anything. ..

"You really don’t believe me?” he demands, lifting his chin and staring down at me. "Even after he was willing to hand you over to Mario in marriage? You can’t tell me you wanted that..."

I bite my lip hard. I wish there was some way that I could counter him, but there isn’t.

Because he’s right. My father was willing to basically sell me off to the highest bidder.

And while I might have done it in a beautiful dress, I would still have been expected to sleep with him, there’s no getting around that part.

But that doesn’t mean this is some long-running scheme of his to exploit women and God knows who else. I barely know Max. I am not going to let him speak to me like this, I am not going to just roll over and trust every word that comes out of his mouth.

"You’re the one who took me," I shoot back at him. "You really expect me to believe you? To trust what you say about my family?”

"And you’re the one who asked about him," he reminds me. He is speaking almost gently, and there’s something about that which pisses me off even more—hearing him talk to me like that, as though he doesn’t want me upset, as though he doesn’t want to hurt me, when he has just laid out that information in front of me.

"I’m not going to just... just believe your lies," I tell him, but my voice cracks into a sob even as I speak. I hate this. I hate feeling so emotional. I came here with the intention of giving myself to him, and now, I am more confused than ever, more confused than I know what to do with. Is he telling the truth? If he’s not, why would he try to spin this kind of lie to me?

None of it makes sense. None of it. I feel like I might fall apart on the spot.

I don’t know where to start, what to say, how to take this.

"Cara—"

He reaches for me, but I push him away. Only a few minutes ago, I would have done anything to feel his touch on me, but now, it’s the last thing I want.

"Don’t," I warn him, but it comes out as a whisper rather than the certainty I have been trying to muster.

There is still a part of me, however foolish, that wants to sink into his arms and let him hold me as I try to make sense of this, but I can’t.

I can’t let him close to me, not knowing what he believes, not knowing that he sees me in such a light.

Does he think that I am a part of this? He speaks like he doesn’t, but I can’t be sure of it.

I back away from him, the heat from the fire suddenly feeling suffocating. I can’t stand to be in here another second. I can’t stand the way he is looking at me right now, almost as though he is sorry for what he has said.

I am going to find a way to make him sorry. I can’t just let an accusation like that slide. I need him to pay.

I turn my back and stalk my way towards my room once more. The freedom that he has been giving me, I don’t want it, not if it comes with those sick beliefs. I can hear him calling after me, trying to get me to come back, but I pay no attention to him. He doesn’t deserve anything from me.

I slam the door loudly behind me. I know it’s immature, but I can’t help it. I lean back against the door, and, as soon as I am alone, the tears really begin to flow down my cheeks, the weight of this pressing down on me, crushing me.

I sink down onto the floor and put my head in my hands. I can’t believe I even thought about being with him, not knowing what I know now. I can never trust him, not if he is going to spin such lies to me, to try and turn me against my father.

If they are lies at all...

I push that thought aside. I know my father might have been involved in some illegal things, but it’s nothing like that. He never would. He’s ruthless. He gets what he wants. But that doesn’t mean he’s evil. That doesn’t mean that my family is evil.

I am distantly aware of the tears running down my face. Mercifully, Max seems to have realized that I need my space right now, and he has given up on trying to speak to me—not that I would have had anything to say to him anyway. Not after that.

I don’t know where all of this leaves me.

I’m sure that my father is still on the way, still trying to break me out of here.

But is he doing it because he wants me back, or is he doing it because he’s terrified that I might find something out about him that he won’t be able to hide from me any longer?

My head a mess, I close my eyes and pray that something will come along to make sense of all of this. I can’t tell if Max is lying to me, trying to turn me against my family, or if he is speaking the truth.

But I have the horrible feeling that, one way or another, I will know before my time here is up.