CONFLICTED

CASSY

"Hatred." She says it simply, like she's commenting on the weather. "Hatred is remarkably clarifying. It focuses the mind. Gives you purpose."

We stop at a door.

"This is my bedroom," she says, opening it.

The room is enormous. King-sized bed with black silk sheets. More floor-to-ceiling windows. A sitting area with a couch and chairs. Doors leading to what must be a massive closet and bathroom.

And in the corner, on the floor…

A dog bed.

I stare at it. At the plush cushion in a simple metal frame, it was clearly expensive but undeniably degrading.

"You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Sienna walks to her closet, starts undressing. She's completely unselfconscious, stripping off the silk pyjamas like I'm not even there. "You'll sleep there until you earn the right to sleep in my bed."

"Earn it, how?"

She emerges from the closet wearing nothing but black lace underwear. My eyes betray me, taking in the sight of her… long legs, smooth skin, and beautiful curves. She's beautiful. She's always been beautiful, I realize. I just never let myself look.

"By being good," she says, sliding into the bed. "By obeying without question and remembering your place."

"This is cruel."

"Yes." She props herself up on one elbow, looking at me with those dark eyes. "It is. Do you remember what you said to me that day in the cafeteria, Cassy?"

I don't want to remember. But the words come back anyway.

You're the maid's daughter. You smell like cleaning supplies. Did you really think someone like me would ever want to kiss someone like you?

"You humiliated me in front of everyone," Sienna says softly. "You read my letter aloud. My private feelings. You made them laugh at me. And three hours later, I held my father's cold hands."

Her voice doesn't crack, and that somehow makes it worse.

"So yes, this is cruel. But it's also justice. For ten years, I've thought about this moment. About having you exactly where I want you. Powerless, owned, and desperate."

She lies back and pulls the covers up.

"The bathroom is through that door. There are clothes for you in the closet… your size. I had them prepared. You'll shower, change into whatever you find on the counter, and then you'll sleep on that bed in the corner. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

I close my eyes before forcing the words out.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good girl."

There it is again. That phrase that shouldn't make me feel anything but does a flutter in my chest, a warmth that I hate myself for feeling.

I walk to the bathroom like a condemned prisoner walking to the gallows.

The bathroom is as obscene as the rest of the apartment. Marble everywhere. Rainfall shower. A bathtub that could fit three people. The floors were heated.

On the counter is a set of pyjamas. When I pick them up, my stomach drops.

They're not pyjamas. It's a short silk nightgown, and it's revealing. The kind of thing designed to tempt and tease. And next to it…

A collar.

A thin black leather with a small silver tag engraved with two letters: S.V.

My hands shake as I pick it up. There's a note underneath in elegant handwriting:

You'll wear this every night. Consider it a reminder of who you belong to.

S.

I want to throw it across the room and walk out of here. Just tear up that damn contract, fuck consequences! Ugh!!

But I think of my dear sister, Delilah. Just twenty-one years old, scared and alone, paying for a crime she didn't commit.

And I put on the collar.