I sat in the back of the black car, staring at my suitcase. The broken wheel just reminded me how messed up everything was.The driver hadn't said a word. Just opened the door, waited for me to get in, closed it behind me.

I was really leaving. Going back to Texas with nothing.

The car door opened again.

Enzo slid into the seat next to me.

My heart jumped. "What!"

"Drive," he told the driver. The car started moving.

I moved as far away from him as I could. "What are you doing?"

"We need to talk." He settled back in the seat, looking completely relaxed. Like this was normal.

"About what? He already said no. I failed."

"Did you?" Enzo's mouth curved into that smile.

I stared at him. "He told me to leave. He said I wasn't right for the job."

"He said a lot of things." Enzo turned to face me. "Tell me, Jolene. What did you think of the interview?"

"What does it matter? It's over."

"Just answer the question."

I looked away. "It was awful. He made me feel like shit."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"What do you think?" My voice cracked. "Like an idiot. Like I was nothing."

"But you didn't leave."

"What?"

"When he was insulting you, making you feel like shit, you didn't walk out. You stayed. You begged for another chance." He leaned closer. "Why?"

"Because I need this job."

"Say it again."

"I need this job," I repeated.

"Louder."

"I need this job!" My voice broke. "I have nothing else. Nowhere else to go. I'll do anything"

"There it is." Enzo reached out and caught my chin, turning my face toward him. "That desperation. That honesty. That's what we wanted to see."

I tried to pull away but his grip was firm.

"What are you talking about?"

"The interview was a test, Jolene." He laughed a little. His thumb ran across my bottom lip. "All of it. You walked into my room, the interview, Marco kicking you out. We were testing you the whole time."

My brain stopped working.

"Testing me?"

"Marco needed to know if you'd break under pressure. If you'd run when things got hard. If you'd fight for what you wanted." His hand slid from my chin to the side of my neck. "You passed."

"I..i what?"

"You got the job."

The words didn't make sense. I stared at him.

"You're lying."

"I'm not." His hand was warm against my throat. Not squeezing, just resting there. A reminder that he could. "Marco wants someone who won't quit. Someone who needs this badly enough to endure anything. Someone..." His thumb pressed against my pulse. "Someone we can mold."

Humiliation washed over me. They played me. Made me beg. Made me cry. Watch me fall apart. All as some sick test.

"You're an asshole," I whispered.

He laughed. Actually I laughed. "There she is. I was wondering when you'd grow a spine."

"Fuck you." The words came out before I could stop them. "You think this is funny? Playing with people? Making them feel like shit for your entertainment?"

"Careful, Jolene." His hand tightened slightly on my throat. Not hurting, but warning. "You still need this job, remember?"

"Maybe I don't want it anymore. Maybe I don't want to work for people who get off on humiliating others."

"Really?" He leaned in close, his breath against my ear. "Then tell me to stop the car. Tell the driver to take you to the airport. Walk away."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"That's what I thought." His hand slid down from my neck to my chest. "You're angry. Good. Use that. But don't forget, you need us more than we need you."

I hated how right he was.

"Say it," he demanded.

"I need the job."

"Beg for it."

My face burned. "What?"

"You heard me. Beg me for this job. Convince me you want it."

"Please." The word tasted bitter. "Please let me have this job."

"Louder. Like you mean it."

"Please!" My voice cracked. "I need this. I'll do whatever you want. Just please"

"Good girl." His hand moved lower, fingers trailing between my breasts. Not quite touching, but close enough to make my breath catch. "So here's how this works. You do exactly what Marco tells you. No questions. No complaints. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Say it."

"I understand."

"And me?" His voice got quieter. "What are you going to do when I give you orders?"

My mouth went dry. "I..I don't work for you."

"Don't you?" His hand pressed flat against my stomach. "You think Marco makes decisions alone? You think he didn't talk to me before choosing you?"

The pieces clicked together.

"You're part of this. Part of the decision."

"Smart girl." His hand stayed where it was, burning through my blouse. "So when I tell you to do something, you'll do it. Just like you will for Marco. Because you need this job so badly you'll endure anything. Won't you?"

Tears stung my eyes. He was right. I would.

"Won't you?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll do what you tell me." The words tasted like shame.

"That's what I thought." He pulled his hand away and leaned back. "Driver, take us back to the estate."

The car turned around.

I sat there, shaking. My body still wanted him even though I hated him.

"Welcome to your new life, Jolene." Enzo looked out the window. "It's going to be interesting."

I didn't say anything. What could I say?

The car drove in silence for a minute. Then Enzo spoke again.

"Oh, one more thing."

I looked at him.

"There's one more test you need to pass tonight."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"You'll see when we get there." His smile was dangerous. "Let's hope you're ready for it."

He didn't say anything else. Just looked out the window like he didn't just drop a bomb on me.

I held onto my suitcase. My heart was going crazy.

One more test.

What the hell did that mean? 

The car drove through the gates and stopped. Same villa as before.

I was terrified.

Enzo got out first. I grabbed my suitcase and followed.

The front door opened before we reached it. Marco stood there, looking exactly the same as he had during the interview. Cold. Professional. In control.

"Welcome back, Jolene." He moved out of the way so we could come in.

I walked past him, dragging my suitcase behind me. The broken wheel made noise in the entrance hall.

"Leave it," Marco said, nodding at my suitcase. "Someone will take it to your room."

I let go of the handle. My hands felt empty without it.

"Follow me." Marco walked toward a different room than before. Enzo walked next to me.

I was trapped between them. Two tall men who looked at me like I was something they owned.

We entered what looked like a study. Nice desk, fancy chairs, books everywhere. There was a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles in the corner.

"Sit," Marco said, pointing at a chair.

I sat.

He walked behind his desk but didn't sit. Just stood there, looking down at me. Enzo leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Watching.

"Your job starts now," Marco said. "Not tomorrow. Now."

My mouth went dry. "Okay."

"This is your final test. Pass it, and you have the job. Fail, and the car takes you to the airport. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He gestured to the bar cart. "Pour me a whiskey. Two fingers. No ice."

I stood up and walked to the cart. My hands were shaking as I picked up a glass. I had no idea which bottle was whiskey.

"The one on the left," Enzo said from behind me.

I nearly dropped the glass. I hadn't heard him move.

He was right behind me now. Close enough that I could feel the heat from his body.

"Pour it," he said quietly.

I picked up the bottle with shaking hands. Poured what I thought was two fingers. Some spilled on the cart.

"Messy," Enzo said quietly. His hand touched my lower back. "Do it again."

"I already poured it."

"I said try again." His hand pressed harder.

I poured the whiskey back into the bottle. I tried again. This time I didn't spill.

"Better." His hand stayed on my back as I carried the glass to Marco.

Marco took it without looking at me. "Now pour one for Enzo. Scotch. Three fingers. One ice cube."

I went back to the cart. Enzo moved with me, his hand never leaving my back.

I found the scotch. Poured three fingers. Reached for the ice.

"Wrong glass," Enzo said. His other hand came up and wrapped around my wrist. "That's for whiskey. Use the shorter one."

He guided my hand to a different glass. His body was pressed against my back now. I could barely breathe.

I poured the scotch into the right glass. Added one ice cube with shaking hands.

"Good girl." His breath was warm against my ear.

I brought him the glass. He took it but didn't step back. Just smiled that smile and took a sip.

"Acceptable," he said.

Marco sat down behind his desk. "Come here."

I walked over to him.

"You'll be taking notes. Every meeting, every call, every conversation I have that matters." He pulled out a leather notebook and a pen. "Write this down: Meeting with Castellano. Tuesday. 3 PM. Location TBD."

I took the notebook and pen. Wrote it down. My handwriting looked terrible because I was nervous.

Marco looked at what I wrote. "Again. Neater this time."

I crossed it out. Wrote it again neater.

"Better." He leaned back in his chair. "You'll learn fast or you're out. Simple as that."

"Yes, sir."

"Now." Marco gestured to a stack of folders on his desk. "Organize these alphabetically. You have five minutes."

I reached for the folders. There had to be at least twenty of them.

"Four minutes and fifty seconds," Marco said, checking his watch.

I started sorting. My hands were shaking so hard I kept dropping them. Behind me, I could hear Enzo moving around. I didn't dare look.

Halfway through, Enzo appeared beside me. He picked up one of the folders I'd already sorted and moved it.

"Wrong," he said. "This one goes first."

"But that's not alphabetical."

"Are you arguing with me?" His hand landed on my hip.

"No, I just."

"Fix it."

I fixed it, even though I knew I was right.

"Three minutes," Marco said.

I worked faster. Enzo stayed next to me, his hand moving from my hip to my lower back, then higher. His fingers traced along my spine through my blouse.

"Focus, Jolene," he murmured. "Don't let me distract you."

But he was. I kept losing track of which letter came next.

"Two minutes."

I was almost done. Just three more folders.

Enzo's hand slid around to my stomach. Pressed flat against it through the fabric.

"Keep working," he said softly.

I grabbed another folder. My hands are shaking worse now.

"One minute."

I put the last folder in place just as Marco said, "Time."

He stood up and walked around the desk. I looked at my work.

"Close," he said. "But not perfect. You put Jenkins before Jimenez."

I looked. He was right. I'd messed up one.

"I'm sorry, I."

"No excuses." Marco stepped closer. He was right in front of me now. Enzo was still behind me, his hand on my stomach. "In this job, being close isn't good enough. Perfect or nothing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Say it again."

"Perfect or nothing."

"Good." Marco's eyes dropped to where Enzo's hand rested on my stomach. "Now let's see how well you follow instructions."

My heart started pounding harder.

"Enzo," Marco said, not looking away from me. "Let her go."

Enzo's hand disappeared. I could breathe again.

Marco walked back behind his desk and sat down. "There's one more thing you need to understand about this position, Jolene."

I waited.

"Your job is to assist me in every way I require. Professional tasks, personal tasks, whatever I need." He leaned forward. "That means when I tell you to do something, you do it. No hesitation. No questions. Complete obedience."

"I understand."

"Do you?" His eyes were cold. "Because I'm about to give you an order. And how you respond will determine whether you sleep here tonight or at the airport."

The room went silent except for my heartbeat.

Marco stood up slowly. Walked around his desk. Stopped right in front of me.

"Take off your blouse."

I stared at him. My brain stopped working.

Behind me, I heard Enzo shift. Waiting.

Marco's expression didn't change. "I gave you an order, Jolene. Are you going to follow it?"

I stared at Marco. My brain couldn't process what he'd just said.

Take off my blouse.

He stood there waiting. His face didn't change. Like he'd just asked me to get him coffee, not strip.

Behind me, I heard Enzo shift. Waiting to see what I'd do.

My hands started shaking. This was it. The line I couldn't cross.

Marco took a step closer. His hand reached out toward the top button of my blouse.

"No."

The word came out before I could stop it.

His hand stopped. His eyes met mine.

"No?" he repeated.

"I..I  can't." My voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

The room went silent. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would break through my chest.

Marco's hand dropped. He stepped back, studying me.

Then Enzo laughed.

Actually laughed.

I turned around to look at him. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that smile on his face.

"Told you," Enzo said to Marco.

"Told him what?"

What did he tell him.

Marco walked back behind his desk and sat down. "That you'd refuse."

I stared at him. "What?"

"Another test, Jolene." Enzo pushed off the wall and walked closer. "We needed to see if you'd actually stand up for yourself when it mattered."

My legs felt weak. "You,this was another test?"

"Everything is a test." Marco leaned back in his chair. "Did you really think we'd require you to strip on your first night?"

Yes. I had thought that. Because everything about this job had been insane from the start.

"Most people in your position would have obeyed," Enzo said. He was right next to me now. "Too desperate to say no. Too scared of losing the job."

"I am desperate," I whispered. "I am scared."

"But you still refused." Marco's expression didn't change, but something changed in his voice. "That takes strength. Or stupidity. We're not sure which yet."

Enzo circled around me slowly. "We don't want a toy, Jolene. We want someone with a spine. Someone who knows when to push back."

But,I couldn't make sense of this. "You said complete obedience. You said."

"We said a lot of things." Marco stood up again. "And you'll learn which orders to follow and which to question. That's part of working for us."

My head was spinning.

"However." Marco's voice got colder. "You need to understand something very clearly."

He walked around the desk toward me. Enzo stopped moving behind me.

"You get one refusal," Marco said. "One time you can say no without consequences." He stopped right in front of me. "You just used it."

My stomach dropped.

"Next time we give you an order like that?" His eyes locked on mine. "You don't get to refuse. Understand?"

"I.."

"Do you understand?" His voice was sharp.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He stepped back. "Enzo, show her to her room."

Just like that, I was dismissed.

Enzo put his hand on my lower back and guided me toward the door. My legs were shaking so bad I could barely walk.

We left the study and walked down a hallway I hadn't seen before. Everything was still dark wood and expensive furniture. My cheap shoes clicked on the marble.

"Here." Enzo stopped at a door and pushed it open.

The room was huge. Way bigger than my entire apartment back home. Big bed with nice sheets. A window overlooking the grounds. My suitcase was already sitting by the closet.

"Bathroom's through there," Enzo said, pointing. "You start work at seven tomorrow morning. Marco will explain your duties."

I nodded. I couldn't find words.

Enzo paused in the doorway. "You surprised us tonight."

I looked at him.

"That's not easy to do." His smile was different now. Less mocking. "Get some sleep, Jolene. Tomorrow's going to be harder."

Then he closed the door.

I stood there in the middle of this beautiful room, alone for the first time since I'd gotten in that car.

My legs gave out. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands.

What the hell had I just done?

I'd said no. To my boss. On my first night.

And somehow that had been the right answer.

But next time?

Next time I wouldn't get to refuse.

I looked at the door. Somewhere in this massive house, Marco and Enzo were doing whatever rich powerful men did at night. Planning. Talking. Maybe talking about me.

About what they'd make me do tomorrow.

But I was still trapped here. Still desperate. Still owned by two men who played games with people's lives for fun.

I should've felt relieved that I'd passed another test.

Instead, I just felt scared.

Because now I know the truth.

Next time they told me to strip, I'd have to do it.

Next time they touched me, I couldn't stop them.

Next time, I was theirs completely.

I am in their control

I lay back on the expensive sheets and stared at the ceiling.

One refusal.

I'd already used it.