Like my back, my hip is amazingly devoid of pain when I climb down the stairs. I never thought a mattress could make such a difference. Even though I only slept four hours, I feel amazingly rested. At least physically. Mentally, I’m still a mess.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I pause. Thanks to the open layout of the house, I have visibility of the lounge, dining area, and kitchen, which are deserted. Grunting coming from the direction of the courtyard pulls my attention. Making my way toward the sound, I stop in front of the open sliding doors.

  A shirtless Leon is doing pushups on the deck, his biceps bunching as he drills his lean body in the early morning sun. He’s dressed only in exercise shorts and sneakers, giving me a prime view of his powerful back. I already had a good look at his body last night, but I can’t help myself from appreciating the male perfection on display. Taller than most men I know, his broad shoulders and narrow waist are developed proportionally. Every muscle is defined, proof that he works hard to keep in shape.

  I may as well see myself out while he’s busy and avoid an awkward greeting. It’s not as if we’re going to kiss each other goodbye.

  Before he notices me, I walk as quietly as I can to the front door and push down the handle. It’s locked. Damn. There’s no key in the keyhole. I search for a key in all the obvious places, looking for hooks on the wall and even going through some of the drawers of the commode in the entrance. When my search turns out fruitless, I don’t have a choice but to go back to the deck. Stopping on the threshold, I clear my throat.

  He finishes the set before pushing to his feet. A sheen of perspiration coats his tanned skin.

  “Good morning,” he says, smiling as he grabs a towel from the chair. “Are you done snooping?”

  “I wasn’t snooping.” I cross my arms. “I was looking for the key.”

  He wipes his face. “So that you could slip out without saying goodbye?”

  “Like you slipped out of bed?”

  The minute I’ve said it, I want to bite my tongue. I only wanted to imply that he was eager for his privacy too. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.

  “Missed me?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes, chucking the towel on the chair.

  I force a laugh. “In your dreams.”

  He crosses the distance and cups my hips between his palms. “That’s what you said last night.” His voice is husky, thick with nuance. “And yet, here we are.”

  I raise a brow. “Are we?” He’s taking too much for granted.

  “We ended up in my bed, didn’t we? Don’t forget what I said about daring me, darling.”

  Before I can reply, he swoops down and presses his lips on mine. Despite myself, a flame licks over my skin. My body remembers last night’s pleasure. It responds to his touch without my mind’s consent.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asks, pulling away to look at my face.

  I doubt he’s really interested in how I slept. “I need to get going.”

  “You should’ve stayed in bed. I have to be at work by seven, but there was no need for you to get up so early.”

  Taking his hands, I remove them from my hips. “I need to go home.”

  He gives me a patient smile. “You need to keep some clothes here until we’ve finalized your move. That way, you don’t have to rush home to change.”

  Startled, I take a step back. “I’m not moving in with you.”

  “I said I’ll give you until the end of the month, and I never go back on my word. You have two more weeks. Until then, you’ll want to sleep over from time to time.”

  “I won’t want to do anything of the kind,” I exclaim, backtracking to the lounge.

  He follows me deeper inside the house. “Stop contradicting statements that have sure outcomes. You’ll make people think you’re in denial.”

  Not listening to more, I turn on my heel and walk as fast as my limp allows to the door. I wait in front of it with my arms crossed for him to unlock the door. He vanishes into the kitchen and returns a moment later with the key. After opening the door and security gate, he walks me to my car and opens the door.

  Just as I’m about to slide behind the wheel, he grips my upper arm.

  “Forgetting something?” he asks, lowering his head for that infamous goodbye kiss I hoped wouldn’t happen.

  I turn my face to the side before our mouths touch, causing his lips to brush over my cheek.

  Despite the show of defiance, he lets me go, allowing me to get into the car. “I’ll see you tonight at the party.”

  I hate parties in general. The year-end office party is no exception. If it weren’t compulsory for all staff to attend, I would’ve been the first one to chicken out. How much fun can it be to spend an entire evening in the company of geeks who gush about software? I bet as much as listening to long, boring speeches. Of course, it doesn’t help that the future husband my stepfather is trying to force on me will be present. I haven’t figured out a way of avoiding that marriage yet, but I have to come up with a plan.

  I push the ignition button, hoping to cut the conversation short, but Leon leans in the open door.

  “Send me a text message when you arrive home,” he says. “If I don’t hear from you in forty-five minutes, I’ll come looking for you.”

  Clenching the wheel, I resist the urge to make another biting remark. I only breathe easier when he finally closes my door. Before he’s straightened, I’m already pulling off. Unable to help myself, I steal a glance in the rearview mirror. He’s standing in the street with his naked chest, staring after the car. When the boom at the main exit closes behind me, he’s still standing on the same spot.

  Shit.

  I drag a hand over my brow, letting my composure slip when I turn onto Sandton Drive. What a mess. My life has turned into a nightmare. The only way to get out of this marriage is running away, and I can’t leave my mom on her own. Without me to watch out for her, it’s only a matter of time before she slips up. Besides, I don’t trust Elliot. What if he blackmails her again? The only solution is to go on the run with my mom, which brings me back to square one. In order to do that, I need money to buy us new identities. Gus is resourceful. Without new names and ID numbers, he’ll find us in no time.

  Suppressing the sick feeling that’s present whenever I think about my future, I instruct Siri to send my mom a text message informing her I’m safe and on my way home. She’ll worry. I’ve never slept over before. Plus, Leon was right about one thing. The world we live in is unsafe.

  My mom waits on the porch when I arrive home. I take a moment to send a text message to Leon. The last thing I want is for him to come looking for me. My mom comes down the stairs and meets me at the car when I get out.

  “Violet,” she says, her brows pulled together. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” I say brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Sleeping over…” She bites her lip. “I hope he was sweet with you.”

  “Mom,” I exclaim. “It’s not as if I’m a virgin.”

  “I know, but…”

  But she knows I want to marry Leon as little as I want to work for Gus. It’s just easier to pretend otherwise. What’s the point of torturing ourselves with the truth when neither of us can do a damn thing to change our fates?

  Sighing, I say, “We had dinner at his place, and it got late. He didn’t want me to drive home at that hour. You don’t have to worry. We didn’t have sex.” Technically. At least that’s not a lie.

  “You’re an adult. I’m not prying in your personal life. I was—”

  “Worried. It’s okay. I get it.”

  Her flawless complexion smoothes out. “Just for the record, Gus agreed with Leon’s decision not to let you drive home. Your safety is obviously important to Leon. That’s a good sign, right?”

  Leon is controlling, possessive, and over-protective. None of those traits are good.

  The front door opens, and Gus steps out with his briefcase in his hand. My mother’s shoulders tense even as her lips stretch into a smile when he approaches.

  “I told you she’d be fine,” he says, taking me in with an impersonal smile. “You always worry for nothing. It’s about time you cut the apron strings. Violet is a big girl.”

  “A mother will always be a mother,” she says.

  Gus narrows his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you don’t want to live alone with me.”

  My mom laughs. “That’s ridiculous. I’m just suffering from a little premature empty nest syndrome.”

  “Don’t worry.” He wraps an arm around her waist. “Elliot is still here.”

  “Yes,” she says with forced enthusiasm.

  Grabbing her ponytail, he pulls her head back. “I’m sorry about last night. I’ll make up for it.”

  “Yes,” my mom says again, her smile staying intact but her posture stiffening.

  I clench my hands at my sides to prevent myself from yanking Gus away from my mom.

  The front door slams. Elliot bounces down the steps and makes his way with long strides to his BMW. If they didn’t park their cars in the garage last night, they must’ve returned really late. They don’t like to leave the Maserati and BMW outside.

  Elliot grins as he passes me. “Did you have fun?”

  I don’t bother to reply.

  “Wait,” Gus says. “You can grab a ride with me.”

  Elliot stops in his tracks. “Why not?”

  “Later,” Gus says, kissing my mom.

  His car beeps as he unlocks the doors. Elliot winks at me before he gets into the passenger side.

  Gus opens his door and turns to me. “Wear a dress tonight, Violet, and make sure it’s a decent one for a change.”

  Like Elliot, he winks before getting inside. The engine starts up with a powerful roar. The tires kick up gravel as he pulls off too fast, showing off as usual.

  My mom’s stance only relaxes when he clears the gates.

  “What was that about?” I ask. “What does Gus have to make up to you?”

  Waving a hand, she turns toward the house. “He got home late.”

  I limp two steps to catch up with her. “He cheated on you again.”

  She purses her lips. “They went out for drinks. You know how it goes.”

  Grabbing her arm, I stop her. “Gus and Elliot.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I saw them leaving the office together.”

  She pulls free and continues walking. “Yes, well. They’re finally bonding.”

  “Mom,” I say, stepping in front of her and cutting her off. “This is not how it’s supposed to go. It’s not okay.”

  “Violet, honey.” She cups my cheek. “In our world, this is exactly how it goes. The men get to do it openly. As for us…” Her smile turns sad. “We must make sure we never get caught.”

  “He can’t fuck around and expect you not to do the same.”

  “Shh.” She drops her hand and casts a worried glance in the direction of the house. “Keep your voice down.” Her expression softens as she continues, “Before you marry Leon, make sure the one rule you lay down is that he won’t sleep with other women in the house. It’ll cost you your self-respect if he does. Let him get an apartment for his affairs if he must.”

  “Mom!” I whisper-cry. “The mere fact that this is your premarital advice says how fucked-up the whole thing is.”

  “We have to accept what we can’t change. Fighting it only makes us unhappy.” Patting my cheek, she continues on her way. “Come on. Let’s go find you a dress for the party. I have just the right one.”

  I follow her blindly, the invisible noose tightening around my neck. Is this what Leon expects from me? To turn a blind eye? Will he lock me up in his house, making sure I’m unobtainable for other men for the rest of my life while he carries on fucking his whores? The fact that he’s never slept with a woman in the context of a relationship tells me a lot about him. He likes his sex uncomplicated. It’s a lot more convenient to pay for it than taking responsibility for someone else’s feelings. He was kind to me last night, our dinner almost like a normal date, but so was Gus in the beginning. I have early memories of him bringing my mom flowers for no other reason than pleasing her. Nowadays, she only gets flowers when he’s cheated. When my mom has cheated, Gus gets false smiles and lies. I don’t want their life. It’s not the future I dreamed about, but it’s hard to escape this world. Once you’re in it, the only sure way out is being dead.

  My mom is already in my room when I finally catch up. She’s holding a purple dress up in front of the mirror.

  “Look,” she says, turning from side to side. “It will fit you perfectly.”

  I smile without really seeing the dress. I don’t care what I wear.

  “Come on.” Her tone is upbeat as she dashes over and takes my hand, drawing me closer. “Let’s see how this looks on you.” She shakes the hanger, dangling the dress like bait in front of my face. “Try it on.”

  I take in the low neckline and the long slit on the side. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’ll wear my black dress.”

  “The black dress?” she asks, making big eyes. “Which one? The one you wore when Leon invited you to the restaurant or the one when he came over for dinner?”

  “I doubt he’ll notice if I wear the same dress.”

  Her smile is wistful. “You’re not giving him enough credit. From the way he was looking at you, I can guarantee you he’ll notice.”

  “Mom,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Please, don’t sugarcoat it.”

  She puts on her happiest expression. “I’m not. He likes you.” She lays the dress out on my bed, arranging it with the care of creating a window display in an upmarket boutique. “Anyway, other people will notice. You’re about to be engaged to a partner of one of the biggest IT companies in the country. Never give them a reason to criticize you.”

  “I don’t care what other people think of me.”

  Straightening, she turns to face me with a sigh. “Maybe, but there are a lot of sharks out there. You have to look strong. Invincible. Don’t give anyone a weakness to exploit.”

  What if I’m not invincible? What if I don’t want to pretend?

  She offers me another soft smile. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. No one has fought harder than you for what others take for granted. You’ve got this, Violet. You’re my beautiful, strong little flower who blossomed against all odds. You grew into a stunning young woman, and you’re not going to attend your stepfather’s office party at the country club wearing a dull black dress.”

  “I happen to like my black dress,” I say defensively.

  “You know what?” She gets that look in her eyes she does when she’s about to change tactics. “You’re right. Forget about this old dress. You deserve a new one. Let’s go do some shopping.”

  I hate shopping, but I always put on an act for her sake, pretending to be having fun when Gus sends her shopping for a new dress and she drags me along. It only happens for occasions when my mom will be in the public eye. Looking good isn’t about her. It’s about him and his image.

  “Well?” she says, offering me her arm in a dramatic gesture.

  Besides not enjoying trying on clothes for hours, I also don’t want to dip into my savings and spend a couple of thousand bucks on a dress I won’t wear more than once. That money is supposed to buy our freedom. I won’t give up hope. I have to believe I’ll still find a way.

  Donning my happy mask, I pick up the dress. “Actually, I’ve always loved this dress. I think I’ll try it on after all.”

  My mom claps her hands. “Great. I have a beautiful clutch bag and heels to go with it.”

  She dashes from the room to fetch the accessories while I pull on the dress. There’s only one mirror in my room, which is on the inside of my closet door. It’s slightly askew. My mom stuck it on with double-sided tape, insisting that I needed a full-length mirror. She claimed it was so I wouldn’t walk out of the room with hair on my sweater or a stain on the back of my pants, but I was there when the counselor told her to encourage my self-image via the good old road of acceptance. My mother’s goal when she bought the mirror and stuck it on my closet door with a poor DIY job was to teach me to look at myself and believe I was pretty.

  I study my reflection. The V-neck of the dress is cut low, showing ample cleavage. I won’t be able to wear a bra. The slit exposes my right leg. It will make the way my hip juts out to compensate for my shorter leg as I walk more obvious. And last but not the least, the purple color is an eye magnet. Everyone will stare, and not necessarily for good reasons. The dress is my worst fashion nightmare come true.

  “Violet,” my mom gushes, walking through the door with a pair of silver strappy heels and a matching clutch bag in her hands. “Honey, you look amazing.” She stops behind me, regarding my image with pride. “This dress was made for you. You’re going to turn a lot of heads tonight.”

  “They’re geeks, Mom. The only thing that will turn their heads is a funky new gadget.”

  “Don’t forget some clients are also attending.” She drops the bag on the bed and hands me the shoes. “Try on the sandals. It’s a good thing we wear the same size.” Bustling to the door, she calls over her shoulder, “I have the perfect color nail polish too. I’ll give you a mani-pedi.”

  I manage a watery, “Thanks,” in return.

  I hate the way I look, but I don’t raise my objections for the same reason I always keep my mouth shut. The picture staring back at me is a mocking reminder of what I’m becoming—a liar and a thief. I hardly recognize myself. The walls are closing in on me from all sides, and the weight of my guilt is bogging me down.

  Grabbing the closet door, I slam it close. My mom’s secret project didn’t succeed. I never liked to look at myself in the mirror. Now, I hate what I see.

  Chapter 25

  Leon

  * * *

  Normally, the office party catering consists of platters of supermarket cocktail food, cheap booze, and paper cups set out on a couple of foldable tables. I’ve never attended a financial year-end celebration, but this is what the other programmers tell me.

 

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