Chapter 6: Play The Part

••~~MADDISON~~••

I bit my bottom lip, pacing the bedroom, phone pressed to my ear, heart in my throat.

The empty bottle of spilled pills twirled in my fingers as I tried to reach Sydney.

“Syd…”

“Madds? What the hell?! Where have you been? I’ve been losing my mind! One second you’re crying on the phone, the next… crickets. Fucking crickets, Madds!”

Of course, Sydney launched into full freakout mode before I could get a single word in.

I cringed, biting my tongue, waiting for a break in the hurricane.

“Say something, MADDISON!” she shrieked so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

“Jeez, Syd. Can you stop screaming and let me talk?”

A beat.

“Then talk.”

I dropped onto the edge of the bed like my bones couldn’t hold me anymore. “Okay, here goes…”

I walked her through everything.

The “SOLD” sign outside Dad’s studio.

Ms. Blake cutting me from the Art program.

Pete changing the locks and dumping my stuff on the front porch.

“WHAT? That’s illegal!”

“Not when you’re four months behind rent.”

“Ugh. Pete’s a dick.”

And then I saved the best for last.

I hesitated. Swallowed. Then said it.

“Chad cheated.”

Silence. Then a screech. “WHAT?”

I winced. “With Willow.”

The phone probably cracked from the pressure of her scream. “NO. No no no. I’m going to kill that backstabbing, over-gelled Ken doll and that bleach-blonde witch. He cheated on you with her?!”

“It was brutal, Syd… I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like everything just collapsed and no one could save me.”

“You should have come to me.”

“No offense, Syd, but the last time I crashed at your place, I had to listen to you and Jake go at it on the bed for hours while I pretended to be asleep on the floor.”

A snicker. “Fair. Jake’s out of town now. I’ll come get you. We’ll eat heartbreak ice cream and curse Chad with genital warts.”

“I can’t.”

“What? Why?! Where are you?”

A flush sounded in the background—great, she’d been on the toilet the whole time.

“I’m in a billionaire’s house,” I muttered.

“What?”

“You heard me. I called the number on that black card Ms. Sinclair gave me.” I looked around the luxurious room again like it might vanish. “I signed a contract. Thirty days. One million dollars.”

A long pause.

“Oh my God,” she finally said. “I always thought I’d be the slut between us.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

It stung a little, but I laughed through it anyway.

I wasn't doing this for kicks. I was doing it for Dad. For the studio. For the version of me that still wanted to graduate and do something real.

“Tell me everything,” she begged. I could hear her flop onto her bed, ready for gossip and sin.

But then—knock knock.

“Ms. Summers? Breakfast is served. Mr. Van Halen’s orders,” came Ausley’s voice.

Orders? Am I in a mansion or a military base?

“I’ve gotta go, Syd.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me—”

“I promise, soon. I’ll tell you everything.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” Click.

Sydney wasn’t just my best friend, she was my human diary, my safe place. But this—this new life—was different. I wouldn’t even know where to start from telling her what a wild turn my life had taken.

I padded downstairs in the same wrinkled dress from yesterday, smelling like musk, sex, and poor decisions. My bags were still at Chad’s. Including my sketchbooks. Including Dad’s lucky paintbrush.

The one thing I never let go of. Until now.

And there was Ausley. Towering. Stoic. By the breakfast table that looked like it belonged in Buckingham Palace.

“Good morning, Ms. Summers.”

“Morning…” I replied, barely making eye contact.

He probably thought I was just another desperate girl selling herself for rent money.

But this wasn’t desperation. This was survival.

“This is… a lot,” I murmured, taking in the spread—waffles, fruit, meatloaf, toast towers. “I can’t eat all this.”

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he said. “Mr. Van Halen asked me to make sure you eat… enough. He hates being disobeyed.”

I raised a brow. “Is he like… ex-military?”

Ausley actually laughed. “No. He just likes control.”

Figures.

“I’ll just have the meatloaf, thanks.”

“Mr. Van Halen said to eat everything.”

“What, does he have cameras watching me?”

“I’ve never lied to him. I don’t intend to start now.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes but shoved a forkful into my mouth anyway.

Holy hell.

Tender. Spicy. Melts on your tongue.

I moaned, caught off guard by how good it was. “That’s… really good.”

He gave a proud smile. “Glad you like it.”

But he didn’t stop watching me.

So I asked. “Do you live here too?”

“No. I come and go.”

“I wasn’t trying to pry. Just seems… lonely.”

“Mr. Van Halen prefers solitude.”

“You seem loyal to him. Despite… everything.”

He knew what I meant. The mirrored room. The rules. The cold authority in Corian’s eyes.

“He’s not the devil, Ms. Summers.”

“Hard to believe.”

Ausley looked straight at me then. “My son would be in prison without him. Now he’s studying law at Columbia. Corian fought for him even when I gave up.”

So he’s not just powerful. He’s dangerous and devoted.

And last night, he didn’t go any further. He could have. He had paid for it but instead he just held me while I cried. Let me sob into his chest like it meant something.

And then this morning, it was a total switch. Mr. Domineering and intense was back. Like he could bend me in half without trying. Like he wanted to.

The way his mouth sucked my lip like it was wrong in all the right ways.

I shook the memory off.

Cleared my throat. “Does he have family?”

Ausley’s smile dropped. “Ms. Summers, don’t ask too many questions.”

“Right. ‘Mr. Van Halen’s orders.’ Got it.”

“You’re a smart girl. He likes that. Finish up. He asked me to give you a tour of the house and show you to your room.”

“I have a room?” I almost jumped out of the chair.

“For the duration of your contract, yes. He wants you to be comfortable.”

I finished my food, and Ausley slipped into tour guide mode—garden, patio, some massive library I could get lost in, and a game room he called the DEN. We walked through endless halls, shiny floors, chandeliers everywhere, walls covered in art worth more than my whole apartment building. The place was so big you could get swallowed whole if you wandered too far.

And finally, we reached a set of tall white double doors. He pushed them open, “Your room, Ms Summers.”

He gave me a nod before leaving.

I stepped in. Froze.

Massive. Airy. Lavish. A total dream bedroom.

“Holy… wow,” I whispered.

Then I spotted it. The closet.

I ran.

Inside, racks of dresses. Velvet. Silk. Lace. Bags. Jewelry. Heels like art.

It didn’t make sense. I was just a contract. Why go to all this trouble?

I caught my image in the mirror.

“Maddison,” I whispered. “Stop fantasizing. You’re not special. This is just how he does things. A businessman with rules. You’re the product. Act like it.”

I grabbed the cream robe off its bougie little gold hook and held it up against me.

Elegant. Soft.

I’d never even touched anything this expensive, let alone wore one.

Took one long breath and stared into the mirror.

“Oh Maddison… are we really about to be an escort to a billionaire?” I muttered to the girl in the mirror.

I could almost hear her say, “A little too late for doubts now, Madds.”

Still, part of me wanted to run.

The other part saw six zeroes and a way out of the mess I left behind.

Deep breath, Maddison.

You said yes. To the man. The money. The part.

I squared my shoulders. “Okay, Maddison. We’re doing this. I’m his. I am his filthy little escort.”

Deep breath, again.

I slipped into the robe and stepped in front of the mirror.

My fingers rose to my mouth, tracing the bite mark that was now glaring on my bottom lip, marks from when I spilled his bottle and tried to leave.

He kissed me like he was mad I even tried, like claiming my mouth was the only way to punish me.

God, he’s so intense, he could break me.

“No, Maddison… you’re tough and it’s just thirty days.

You can take him.”

I could almost hear Julia laughing;; ‘Come on, Maddison….Thirty days with a sinful billionaire? … Baby, you won’t last three.’