The silence in Raymond’s opulent bedroom was a heavy, suffocating blanket. I paced the length of the plush rug, my mind racing faster than my feet. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. Raymond’s threat echoed in my head—‘anyone else to get hurt’—but the image of Dominic, chained and bleeding in that damp cell, was stronger.

Compliance was my only weapon. If I played the broken, submissive captive, maybe his watch would loosen. Just enough. It was a dangerous gamble, but it was the ...