Selena had no time to react.

Zavier turned her around abruptly, forcing her to face the floor-to-ceiling window, his arms coiling around her body in an unyielding grip.

“Look at yourself,” he commanded, his voice as sharp as the edge of a blade. Her reflection stared back at her—a pale face, stray wisps of damp hair sticking to her forehead. His words followed like a punch. “Let me guess, you were planning to offer yourself to buy Samantha’s freedom? But ...