Angel

"Damn lost cause."

Lucian shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches the monitor showing the surveillance footage from the basement. Lib sits in the solitary cell with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms tight around her shins, as if she's holding back. Sawyer says she's been like this for three days.

I admit, I was hoping for a lot more progress. I've been gone a week, and that's usually enough time for Lucian to convince a woman. The basement is a last resort, so Lib must be fighting hard. I'm as impressed as I am annoyed.

My gaze wanders to the wall of empty neck ties and I consider asking why he's not in one of them, but I stop myself. It's telling that he's in the cell. Lucian never uses it. It's for long-term misbehaviors, to punish and limit the muscle atrophy that comes from being in the same position too long. In a way, the cell is an admission of failure.

‘’There are no lost causes.’’ My gaze returns to Natasha. She doesn't flinch.

Lucian scoffs. "Right."

‘’She just needs more time.’’ I cocked my head as I watch her. I'm not even convinced.

Lucian shakes his head. "I never should have taken her from Costner. She's not the kind of woman who fits in here."

"You wanted a challenge."

Lucian clenches his jaw and looks at Lib's image with more disdain than necessary. She's really gotten to him.

‘’Yeah, well, I was wrong," he grumbles, craning his neck. I give her two more days and then she's gone.

"Gone, as in...?"

He doesn't answer, but he doesn't have to. No slave leaves the island. Never. Under no circumstances. Every woman brought here dies here, whether or not she survives her sentence of prostitution. Older women take over housework when they are no longer sexually desired. Murdering a slave is illegal on the island, but there are always exceptions.

‘’It's that bad, huh?’’ I ask.

He turns to me and raises his hand, showing me broken skin with teeth marks just below the knuckles.

I fight back a smile.

''We stopped giving him food three days ago. If hunger isn't enough to make him behave, I don't know what will be. I don't like torture, but Julio hasn't exactly been gentle, so I doubt even that won't work. Next time Costner shows up here, I'm going to beat the shit out of him. The fucker said I was a passive housewife. The woman is wild.''

I laugh and earn Lucian's withering glare.

''I'm glad you think it's funny.

''Are you sure she doesn't recognize you? Maybe she's angry because her husband prostituted her.''

He shakes his head. ''She doesn't know anything about that.

"How can you be so sure?"

''Because as soon as she got the chance, she ran out screaming for help and asked Robert Sullivan to call her husband. I'm pretty sure if she had recognized me, she would have mentioned it. I saw her briefly once, what, four years ago?''

‘’Five,'' I correct. That's when we started working with Costner.

Lucian ignores him with a gesture as if it doesn't matter, which it does. "The point is, she's not acclimating, and I don't want to waste my energy on her anymore. If you want her, take her. But I don't want her in the mansion anymore."

I look back at the screen and think about it for a second before dismissing the idea. "You know it's against the rules for me to have my own slave."

"Yeah, well, the rule makers, or however the hell you say."

"It's the ones who make the rules make the loopholes, but close." Those who make the rules, make the loopholes.

One side of my lips quirks up in an amused smile that Lucian doesn't return.

‘’Give me a chance with her," I say, turning back to the screen. Maybe she needs a more delicate touch.

He narrows his eyes. "You don't want anything to do with the new women."

I shrug. "I like a challenge, too."

''''The king of 'good cop, bad cop,'' Angel. It's not going to work.''

''Maybe because you play it with your two personalities.''

He shakes his head as if considering my words and then nods. "Well, that's probably fair. But it still won't work with this girl."

I take one last glance at the screen before stepping back a few steps and looking at Lucian. "We'll see."

As I leave Lucian's office, he tosses a sarcastic "good luck" to my back. I stop in the kitchen and grab a granola bar to tuck into my pants pocket. I just got back to the island an hour ago and haven't taken off my suit. I prefer it that way, though. Lucian is the one who prefers the relaxed, beach look.

As funny as I think it is that he hasn't been able to tame Natasha, it bothers me. I was looking forward to her getting acclimated upon my return, and I've been waiting for her all week. In fact, I've been waiting for her for five years.

I guess I can be patient a little longer.

I reach the basement door and turn my neck, expelling all expectations of what's about to happen.

I might recognize myself. It had crossed my mind before, but I didn't think much of it then. She was supposed to be an obedient prostitute the first time I saw her here, so what did it matter if she recognized me? But it did now. It could make things worse. Or it could make it better. I'm not sure.

It might not matter. As Lucian said, it's been five years. It's quite possible that I haven't made the same impression on him that she did on me.

There's only one way to find out.