Page 119 of The Bounty

It’s like a miniature version of Brock’s house.

“Fair?” She states, and her words snap me back to reality. “You want to talk aboutfair?” Her careful, professional façade is gone, and fury flares behind her eyes. “This is all foryou.You have this entire place to yourself. You’ll always have a roof over your head,gourmetfood, an unlimited spending amount, and access to the best doctors! And all you need to do is entertain some Alphas in the meantime.”

Her outburst catches me off guard, and my mouth falls open in disbelief. “But—”

“Do you know where I was before I worked here?” She continues. “I was living paycheck to paycheck, and now I finally make enough to not have to scrounge every penny for me and my kids. Ienvyyou.”

I take a step back from her. “You know what they’ll do to me here,” I insist, but she narrows her dark eyes.

“A small price for stability. You’re going to be treated like a princess here. They’ll take you shopping on Rodeo drive. You’ll wear jewelry worth more than a year of my salary,” she continues, her voice bitter. “And most of you try to fight it.”

I scoff in horrified disbelief. “This is a glorified brothel.”

“I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat,” she retorts. “I wouldkillto be an Omega.”

The situation is more complicated than I imagined.

I never thought someone would be envious of my status, and I stare at her, dumbfounded.

“They’re going to take me against my will,” I say slowly, desperate for her to understand. “They’ll use me however they want.”

Her laugh is bitter as she shakes her head. “You’ll enjoy it. It’s part of your biology. When you’re in Heat, it doesn’t matter who’s fucking you, right? The body has a natural way of pleasuring itself.”

I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or kill her.

She’s repeating the talking points they’ve been using on the news to justifyEden.

They got to her, and now she’s envious.

“That’s not accurate,” I argue, but she scowls at me.

“The doctor will be in to examine you,” she snaps. “And if you want anything, just pick up the phone next to your bed. You’ll have a personal shopper and chef assigned to you,” she spits bitterly.

“What?”

“Welcome toEden,Olive.”

She turns and exits, leaving me slack-jawed in the penthouse.

And, for a moment, my anger turns to shame.

Shame for the money that’s been wasted for me to have all these unnecessary luxuries.

For this ridiculous penthouse I don’t need.

I hate that I’ve been made to feel guilty, and frustrating tears fill my eyes as I pace around the extravagant living area.

It’s a gilded cage.

I hear faint chanting outside the bedroom window, and hurry past the living room to peek through the cream silk curtains.

Right outside of the iron gates is a mix of news reporters and protestors.

Armed guards in riot gear stand in front of them, unflinching and unmoving.

“What the hell,” I whisper.

Some protestors hold signs up, screaming in the faces of the guards.