Chapter 5

Juno

Fear washed through me like ice water.

If Leo caught sight of a scene like this, I'd be thrown out on the street for certain—or worse, I'd end up dead in some ugly way. My creditors would tear me to pieces.

"Let go!" I don't know where the strength came from, but I shoved hard against Caleb's chest.

I expected him to be afraid too, to bolt like he had the night before.

I was wrong.

The instant I pushed him away, something wild flickered in the depths of Caleb's eyes. He didn't loosen his grip. Instead he seized me by the small of my back and yanked me hard against his burning body.

His arm clamped around my waist like an iron band. His chest pressed flush against me, his scorching breath spilling across the side of my neck.

At the far end of the hall, Leo's heavy, dragging footsteps drew closer. The sound of his leather shoes on the wooden floor was a countdown to my execution.

"Let go," I begged through clenched teeth, my voice barely a whisper.

Caleb only pressed in harder. He lowered his head until his lips nearly grazed my ear, and there was a reckless madness in his voice. "Go on, guess. If Father comes around that corner and sees you half-dressed and clinging to me, who do you think he'll believe? His own son, or a stripper he pays to keep around?"

Cold flooded me, my blood freezing in an instant. He was doing this on purpose.

This twenty-year-old boy wasn't acting on impulse. He knew exactly what he was doing. He meant to drag me down to hell with him—or rather, he wanted to watch me get thrown out and devoured alive by the creditors waiting outside.

The footsteps had almost reached the corner.

I panicked completely, abandoning all pretense of composure. Both hands braced against his chest, I pushed with everything I had, feet scrambling backward to break away.

Caleb hadn't expected me to summon that much force—or maybe he'd never truly intended to go down with me. In the struggle, his hands let go.

But I'd thrown my weight too hard. My ankle twisted violently on the thick carpet, and my whole body lurched off balance, toppling straight backward. Caleb's hand shot out on instinct, but he only caught the edge of my already precarious blouse.

The silk fabric tore clean through with a sharp, crisp sound.

I hit the carpet with a dull thud.

At that same moment, the wall sconce at the end of the hall flared to life. Leo's tall figure appeared at the corner.

"What are you two doing?" His voice was low, roughened with sleep and edged with an unmistakable menace.

I sat sprawled on the floor, my clothes in ruins, the torn blouse hanging wide open to expose black lace and a broad stretch of bare skin. My face had gone bloodless, my heart slamming against my ribs, my breath nearly stopped.

It was over. Everything was over.

But into that deathly silence came Caleb's calm voice from above me.

"Juno tripped."

I looked up, staring at him in disbelief.

Caleb bent down and offered me his hand. Every trace of the earlier madness and heat had vanished from his face. Those deep blue eyes were clear as still lake water. In that moment he played the part flawlessly—a well-mannered, restrained young man, dutifully concerned for his elders.

"Careful, Juno. The carpet in this hallway really is a bit slippery." His voice was gentle, carrying just the right measure of concern.

I looked at his outstretched hand, forced my trembling fingers steady, and took it. Using his grip for leverage, I scrambled to my feet, both hands clutching the ripped collar of my blouse tight over my chest.

Leo came forward, frowning. His sharp gaze swept back and forth between my disheveled clothes and Caleb's open, guileless face, scrutinizing.

"I—I was on my way to check on breakfast in the kitchen. I wasn't watching my step." I dropped my head, my voice quavering. Half of that tremor was feigned fragility; the other half was the genuine terror of someone who'd just narrowly escaped.

Leo studied me for a few seconds, then gave a cold snort. He didn't press further.

In Leo's eyes, Caleb might be cold by nature, but Cavendish pride ran in his blood. He would never touch a cheap woman his father kept.

"Fix your clothes and come to my study." Leo tossed the words over his shoulder and turned toward the study at the other end of the hall.

I lifted my head and watched him go. His face was ashen, his brow knotted tight, and there was a clear restlessness in his stride. That awful phone call last night, plus a bad night's sleep—his mood was obviously in tatters.

Seeing him like that, I shivered without meaning to.

Leo was a man with an overwhelming need for control. When he hit a wall at work, or when his temper soured, he took it out in bed. And the way he took it out was never a simple tangle of bodies.

He had a sadistic streak. The worse his mood, the more brutal his methods.

I turned my head. Caleb was looking down at me. Hands shoved in the pockets of his sleep pants, a mocking curve tugging at his lips, he mouthed two silent words at me: Good luck.

I clenched my jaw, ignored the taunt, and hurried back across to the servants' wing.

Back in my room, I showered as fast as I could, scrubbing my skin hard with soap, trying to wash away the mint scent that was Caleb's, trying to calm myself down. Looking at my pale face in the mirror, I drew a deep breath. A hundred thousand dollars didn't come easy. This was the price.

I pulled on a loose black robe, went back to the villa, and pushed open the study door on the second floor.

The heavy curtains were drawn tight, not a sliver of daylight getting through. Only a single dim floor lamp glowed. The air hung thick with the heavy smell of Cuban cigars and the sharp bite of whiskey, oppressive enough to smother a person.

Leo sat in the wide leather office chair, half a glass of liquor in his hand. He hadn't even changed out of his pajamas, and his face was darker than it had been in the hallway.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice low.

I obeyed, crossing the room and stopping before the desk, hands folded in front of me, eyes lowered.

Leo pulled open a drawer and tossed a black velvet box onto the desktop. "Put it on."

I reached out and opened the box. Inside was a set of scandalously revealing red lingerie—barely any fabric at all, just a few thin straps woven together that covered nothing of substance.

"Change into it right here." Leo took a sip of his drink, his eyes fixed on me, appraising me like merchandise up for sale.

I had no right to refuse. I loosened the sash of my robe and let the loose garment slide down to pool at my feet. The dim light fell across my bare skin, casting it in a soft pale glow.

I picked up the red lingerie and put it on slowly. The thin straps bit into my flesh, tracing an exaggerated silhouette. This degrading display filled me with humiliation, but all I could do was bite my lower lip and feign a docile, alluring expression.

As I moved, Leo's breathing grew noticeably heavier.