Calytrix was kneeling close to the don, who was dining. The food smelled appetising, especially to her famished self. But even her stomach knew how to read the room; it dared not grumble lest she provoke his punishment.

Occasionally, he would feed her a small bite, and she had no choice but to put on a fake smile and ingest it.

His phone rang while he was still eating, and he answered it, his expression soon turning ugly. She felt the temperature grow hotter and instinctively tried to retreat. ...