"I can do anything, be anything," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Anything but that. Please."

I didn't know if he was testing me or just messing with my head for his own entertainment.

"Anything but that," I repeated.

"This isn’t a negotiation. You want the money, you’re mine," Xander said flatly.

"You... you know I'm married, Mr. Romano. I... I can't do what you're asking."

"And you know I don't give a fuck about your marriage," he replied, his voice cold. "You're free to make your choice."

The car came to a stop, and I realized with sinking certainty that he had no real intention of helping me. Not without this horrible price I couldn't pay.

With trembling hands, I opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. My legs wobbled underneath me, and pain shot up from my ankle. I must have sprained it when I threw myself in front of his car.

To my surprise, Mr. Romano stepped out behind me.

I froze, not understanding what was happening. Why was he getting out? Was he going to say something worse? Make another horrible demand?

Before I knew it, he was draping his overcoat around my shoulders. The fabric was heavy and warm, smelling of expensive cologne and something else I couldn't identify. It extended down past my knees, covering the torn dress beneath. I stood there, stunned, unable to process this sudden kindness.

Why is he being nice to me?

"You...you don't have to..." I started, looking up at his face. The streetlight cast harsh shadows across his features, making him look even more intimidating.

"Why? Don't care whether you flash the whole damn world?" He sneered. "Well, I fucking do."

I shut up immediately. My cheeks burned with humiliation. Of course. It wasn't kindness. It was...what? Propriety? Control? I really couldn't figure this man out. One moment he was cold and cruel, demanding something horrible from me. The next he was covering me up like he actually cared about my dignity. I didn't know if he hated me or pitied me, and the uncertainty made my head spin.

He turned toward the car, toward the girl still sitting in the backseat. I'd almost forgotten about her. "Give me your shoes," he barked.

I couldn't hear her response, but whatever she said must have annoyed him because he growled, low and threatening. "Now."

A pair of low heels appeared, extended on shaky hands through the car window. The girl's fingers were trembling, just like mine had been moments ago. Just like mine still were. Xander took them without a word of thanks and dropped them by my feet. They landed with a soft thud on the concrete.

I stared down at them. They were simple black heels, nothing fancy, but they looked expensive. Designer, probably. I swallowed hard.

"I'll...I'll bring them back," I whispered. It seemed important to say it, even though I knew how ridiculous it sounded. Here I was, in the middle of the worst night of my life, promising to return a pair of borrowed shoes.

"You'll be mine either way, Mrs. Grey," he said, and his voice was so certain it made my stomach twist. "You can either take the money, save your husband's life, and be mine. Or you can let him die, be free, and still end up being mine."

It sounded like a vow. Like a promise. Like something inevitable and inescapable.

I watched, unable to move, unable to speak, as he got back into the car. The door closed with a soft click. Then the engine purred to life and the convoy drove away, taillights disappearing into the darkness. I stood there on the empty street, still unable to move, my mind replaying his words over and over.

The idea of cheating on my husband wasn't even possible. It was so far beyond what I could imagine doing that I hadn't even really considered the offer. Not truly. How could he taunt me like this? Does this guy even have a heart? How could he expect me to spread my legs open for him while my husband was dying somewhere, scared and alone?

But then his earlier words came back to me. "Apparently vows don't matter anymore." Is he trying to see if I'll uphold my own vow? The thought struck me like lightning. Maybe someone had hurt him by breaking their vows. Maybe that's why he was testing me like this, seeing if I was just another person who would throw away their promises when things got hard.

I really couldn't figure him out.

I stared down at the heels sitting by my feet. They were a tad small when I picked them up to examine them, and I almost considered abandoning them right there on the street. But my feet were scraped raw and bleeding from running earlier. I could feel the grit and small stones embedded in my soles. Walking back barefoot would be torture, especially with my ankle the way it was.

So I slipped them on. They pinched my toes and the backs dug into my heels, but it was better than having none. At least I could walk.

I turned and started limping down the road, still mulling over Xander's words, trying to make sense of any of this. The street was mostly empty now, just a few cars passing by every few minutes. I didn't even know where I was going. Home? Could I even face going home to our empty apartment?

A taxi suddenly stopped a few feet ahead of me and a lady in corporate wear stumbled out, fumbling with her purse. The outfit looked familiar and my heart jumped. I recognized that blazer. "Jessie," I blurted out.

The woman jumped at her name, nearly dropping her purse. "Christ, Cindy. You gave me a scare."

She took in my appearance and frowned, her eyes traveling from the oversized coat to the too-small heels to my tear-stained face. "What the hell are you doing here at this godforsaken hour?"

"Jessie..." I whispered again, and stumbled toward her. My ankle gave out slightly and I nearly fell. "I don't know what to do, Jess."

Jessie almost sidestepped away, but she seemed to realize I wasn't okay because she stopped herself and stood still as I leaned on her shoulders, muttering the same words over and over. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."

Jessie stood rigid, and awkwardly started patting my hair. She wasn't good with physical affection, I knew that, but I couldn't help myself. I needed someone, anyone, to tell me this was going to be okay.

"Hey, umm, why don't you start by telling me what's going on?" she started, her voice carefully neutral. I could tell she wanted to get away from the physical touch.

I raised my head, pulling back to look at her face. Jessie's eyes widened slightly and I realized I must look terrible. "Cynthia, what's going on?" Her voice was gentler now, concerned. "Hours ago you seemed so excited to celebrate your anniversary with Alex. Isn't he back yet?"

That broke the dam. I started sobbing, right there on the street, big ugly sobs that shook my whole body. I seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. Crying. Breaking down. Falling apart.

"He's been kidnapped, Jessie." The words came out broken and desperate. "I don't know what to do."

Jessie was shocked. She stood there frozen for a moment, processing what I'd just told her.

"That's awful," Jessie said finally, "Listen, why don't we go to my place. You can tell me everything there."

She lived in a small apartment just a block away. The walk felt like miles with my injured ankle. When we got inside, she offered me some orange juice with shaking hands. I could tell she didn't know what to do with me, with this situation. Jessie was practical, organized, good at her job. But emotional crises? Not her strong suit.

I told her everything. About Alex not coming home. About the text message. About Xander Romano and his horrible, impossible offer. The words spilled out of me like water from a broken dam, and I couldn't stop them even if I wanted to.

If only I could tell the cops. But I couldn't. The kidnappers had been clear.

Jessie had worked overtime herself tonight, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "Look, it's late. Why don't you rest? We'll talk more in the morning when we're both thinking clearly."

I was drowsy, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving me hollowed out and exhausted. I protested weakly, saying I should go home, should do something, anything. But Jessie was already pulling out a spare blanket and pillow, setting me up on her couch.

I dozed off eventually, my mind still churning with impossible choices.

I woke up to my head hitting the table beside the couch. I must have rolled over in my sleep. Blinking groggily, I saw Jessie already getting ready for work, buttoning up her blouse and gulping down coffee. Morning light was streaming through the windows. How long had I slept?

I felt awkward immediately for giving the woman such a hard time when she clearly had her own problems and responsibilities. Her own life to live. "Hey, um, about last night," I mumbled, sitting up. My neck ached from sleeping in an odd position. "I'm sorry for the trouble."

Jessie grunted in acknowledgment, not looking at me. She was focused on finding her other earring.

The silence stretched between us, uncomfortable and heavy.

"I've been thinking about it, Cynthia," Jessie said finally, still not meeting my eyes. "And you don't have any other option. Not really."

My stomach dropped.

"I honestly don't think Xander's offer is that bad." She turned to face me now, her expression serious. "I mean, don't you consider yourself lucky you even have an option? Would you rather he outright rejected your plea? What's one night if he's giving you five million dollars?" She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. "You think I'd think twice if I'd been offered such a chance?"

"It's not the same, Jessie." I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'm married. That would be cheating and I can't...I can't do that to Alex."

"You think Alex will care about such things when his life is hanging on a thread?" Jessie sounded baffled.

I opened my mouth but no words came out.

Her patience evaporated. I could see it happen, like a switch being flipped. "Fine. Do whatever you want." She grabbed her bag roughly. "And when his body is found, you can tell him you tried to save your marriage and let him die. That guy risked his life for you and you can't even sacrifice your body for him?"

"Jessie..." I whispered, hurt blooming in my chest.

"No. I'm done listening to you whine like a child instead of taking a chance given to you." She walked to the door, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. "I'm leaving and I need to lock the door after me."

She stood there waiting, her hand on the doorknob, looking at me expectantly.