BastienWhat the fuck was she thinking? My mind’s a goddamn whirlwind as I lead Anika—or whoever she really is—back into the penthouse. Each step feels heavy, like I’m dragging the weight of the revelation along with us.Who the fuck does she think she’s fooling?It started with a slip. One goddamn slip on a phone call. She was talking to a client, and the line got crossed for a second. Names got jumbled, and out came her real name, not the “Anika” facade she’d been playing. Anya. It slipped through her lips before she even realized, I bet. At that moment, something clicked.I’d been growing suspicious, what with her being a little too savvy for someone who’s never worked a day in her life. So I dug around. Made some calls and pulled some strings, and it didn’t take long for things to make a twisted sort of sense. She wasn’t just some random girl on an auction block. She was more, much more and I’m going to find out what.Little did she know, the entire escape act was a setup, a test

AnyaI wake up to the ring of an alarm, a jarring sound that shatters the remnants of a restless sleep. For a second, I forget—forget where I am, why I’m here, and the cage I’ve locked myself into. But reality rushes back in like a flood, washing away the ignorance of sleep with a slap of cold truth. Today, I still have to be Anya the switchboard operator, not the fool who tried to run away.I drag myself out of bed, each movement tinged with a sense of dread. The events of the previous night loop in my mind like a reel, each moment sharp and vivid. The rush of escaping, the sudden stop of the SUV, and Bastien—his cold eyes, his cruel smirk, as if saying “Did you really think you could escape me?”I manage to dress, choosing a simple blouse and slacks. Nothing too flashy, nothing that screams ‘look at me.’ The last thing I want right now is attention, especially from Bastien.Heading to the kitchen, I try to shake off the remnants of dread that followed me into my dreams last night.

AnyaThe sunshine streaming through my windows hints at a world outside that I used to be a part of.But today is different. It’s my first day off, and I decide to spend it by the pool. The sun is out, the sky a crystal-clear blue as if trying to mock the murkiness clouding my thoughts. I walk out onto the penthouse deck, sliding the glass door shut behind me with a soft click.I make my way to the pool deck, ignoring the ever-watchful eyes of the guards positioned strategically around the area. They barely glance my way, their expressions unreadable but their presence as heavy as a chain. The sun beats down on the gleaming pool surface, turning the water into an inviting, shimmering blue. I lay down my towel on a chaise lounge, feeling the warm sun immediately start to sear my skin through the fabric of my swimsuit. For a moment, I close my eyes and let myself drift. The sun, the sky, the water—it’s almost enough to make me forget, almost enough to lull me into a false sense of free

AnyaMy fingers tremble as I push away from the table, still reeling from the tension that clung to the air like an invisible fog. “Thank you for dinner,” I manage to say, my voice betraying a vulnerability I can’t afford to show.“You’re welcome, Anya,” Bastien replies, his voice a calm counterpoint to my internal turmoil.I’m almost at the door when he adds, “Remember, tomorrow at seven.”“Yes, Alpha,” the words slip out before I can think, and I swear I feel the atmosphere in the room shift, as if something significant yet indiscernible has just occurred.Shaking off the heavy aura that surrounds me, I hurry down the corridor to my room, my steps faltering the closer I get. As soon as I cross the threshold, I shut the door behind me and press my back against it. My heart pounds in my chest like a caged bird desperate for release. I close my eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.A bath, I decide, turning towards the bathroom. It’s a desperate attempt to regain some semblanc

AnyaI make my way to the kitchen, my steps lighter than they’ve been in days. Despite the odd tension at last night’s dinner, I find myself strangely at ease this morning. The penthouse is silent, and for the first time since I got here, I feel like I can breathe. I scoop coffee grounds into the machine, press the button, and the aroma fills the room. Last night’s dinner plays like a surreal montage in my head, punctuated by Bastien’s penetrating gaze and that unnerving yet electrifying moment on my knees beside him. I can’t make sense of it, of him, of how he’s affecting me. A flutter of something—nervousness, excitement, or perhaps even fear—courses through me, leaving me unsettled.The phrase plays over and over in my head as the coffee brews. There was something in his tone, an unspoken weight, that I can’t shake off. I’ve never been one to seek approval, but the warmth that spread through me at his words was as disconcerting as it was pleasurable.My musings are interrupted by