inging Scarlett to the penthouse more and more often. He would parade her around, showing off his art,

her. "My whole world

of a calculated strategy for my escape. Scarlett, for her part, reveled in it. She would look at me

Liam was on a business call in the other room, "to live in

aid, my voice tight.

a condescending pat on my arm. "W

at was tainted. Liam would stand behind me, criticizing my brushstrokes, sugge

mine. It was a three-way conversation between his desire, her influence, and my desperation. The "Muse" system wou

rom the constant emotional pressure. The smell of the turpentine was making my head spin. I was standi

my hand losing its grip on the brush. I hea

oe! What's wrong with you? Be careful!" His voice wasn't filled with conce

grip still tight. "You're pale. Go lie

nd me, dripping with false concern. "Oh, the poor thing. She works so hard. Mayb

idn't come to check on me. I lay on the bed, the cold, empty room swallowing me whole. He had promised me a

mouth. A gallery show. It felt like a promise to a child, a treat for good behavior that would never