The dining room was a cavern of shadows and candlelight.

Audie moved silently around the long table, ostensibly to ensure Basil's water glass was full. She wore a simple dark dress, not a uniform, fitting her role as a quiet, unassuming ward of the family. The stiff collar scratched her neck.

Basil sat at the head of the table. Corine sat to his right, watching his every move. He had changed into a velvet smoking jacket. It was loose, casual.

He reached for the salt cellar. The wide sleeve of his jacket slipped down.

There were three angry red lines raked across his forearm. Scratches.

Corine saw them instantly. She dropped her fork. It clattered against the china.

"Basil. Your arm."

Audie froze. She gripped the water pitcher. Those were her marks. From the safe room. When the panic had felt too real and her nails had dug into him.

Basil didn't look at his stepsister. He sprinkled salt on his steak. "Duchess. She was playing rough."

"That dog is dangerous," Corine said, her voice trembling. "She drew blood. We should have her put down."

Basil slammed his hand on the table. The silverware jumped.

"No one touches the dog," he snarled. His eyes flicked to Audie, standing in the shadows. "She's mine. She doesn't know her own strength. She just needs... training."

Audie felt the heat rise in her cheeks. He wasn't talking about the Doberman.

Corine took a sip of wine, composing herself. "Very well. But we need to discuss the Gala. The senator will be there. You need a date."

She slid a list across the table. "I've crossed off Sloane Sterling. Her father is under investigation by the SEC. We don't need that kind of heat."

Basil ignored the list. He cut into his meat, the knife screeching against the plate.

"Audie," Corine snapped. "Water for Mr. Dean."

Audie stepped forward. As she reached to pour, Basil stretched his leg out under the table.

He hooked his foot around her ankle.

Audie stumbled. The pitcher tipped. Ice water splashed onto the damask tablecloth.

"You clumsy girl!" Corine cried.

Audie dropped to her knees, grabbing a napkin to blot the spill. She made frantic, apologetic gestures, her eyes wide with feigned panic.

She was under the table now, hidden by the heavy cloth. She scrubbed at the water near Basil's lap.

Basil's hand dropped.

His fingers brushed the nape of her neck. His touch was cold. He traced the line of her spine, right where the tag of her dress scratched.

Audie went rigid. She stopped breathing.

"I'll go to the Gala," Basil said to his stepsister, his voice calm, conversational. His fingers tightened on Audie's neck, a possessive squeeze. "But I choose my own partner."

"Oh, Basil, that's wonderful!" Corine clapped her hands. "Who do you have in mind?"

Basil released Audie. She scrambled back out from under the table, her face flushed, her hair messy.

"I haven't decided," Basil said, looking at Audie. "Someone quiet."

Audie retreated to the kitchen. She leaned against the stainless steel counter, her legs shaking.

He was playing with her. And the terrifying part was, she didn't know the rules.

The rumble of a pickup truck shattered the afternoon quiet.

Audie was in the front garden, deadheading the roses. It was a punishment task Corine had assigned for the water spill.

She looked up. Arthur hopped out of his truck. He was holding a pink box. Donuts.

"Audie!" he waved, grinning like a golden retriever.

Panic seized her throat. She looked up at the second-floor balcony.

Basil was there. He was standing in the shadows of the awning, motionless. He was holding a letter opener, turning it over and over in his fingers.

Corine walked out the front door. She looked at Arthur, then at his truck, then at Audie.

"Is this the... suitor?" Corine asked. Her tone suggested she was looking at a cockroach.

Arthur walked up to the gate. "Hi. I brought these for Audie. Maple bars. Her favorite."

Audie felt Basil's gaze boring into the back of her skull. If she accepted them, Arthur was dead. Basil would destroy him.

She had to kill it. Now.

Audie dropped her shears. She turned her back on Arthur, refusing to even look at him. She crossed her arms, her posture a wall of ice.

Arthur's smile faltered. "I... I just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the fair."

Audie glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of utter disdain. She looked at his truck and wrinkled her nose, then looked down at her own dirt-stained hands as if they were more interesting than he was. The silent rejection was more brutal than any words.

Arthur stopped. The box of donuts lowered. "Audie?"

She simply turned and walked back toward the roses, dismissing him completely.

Corine let out a small, approving hum. "Well said, child."

Arthur turned red. He looked at Audie's back with hurt confusion, then threw the box of donuts into the trash bin by the gate.

"Fine," he said. "Forget it."

He got in his truck and peeled away, gravel spraying.

Audie watched him go. Her chest ached. He was a good man. And she had just crushed him to save him.

Corine patted her shoulder. "Good girl. You're learning."

Corine went inside.

Audie looked up at the balcony. Basil was gone.

A moment later, Mercer, the head of security, walked up to her. He handed her a folded newspaper clipping.

"From Mr. Dean," Mercer said. "A reward."

Audie opened it.

It wasn't cash. It was a small article from the local business journal. The garage where Arthur worked had been abruptly shut down by the county inspector for "critical safety violations." Effective immediately.

"Why?" Audie whispered. "I did what he wanted."

"Mr. Dean's methods are not for public discussion," Mercer said.

Audie crumpled the paper. Rage, hot and white, flared in her gut. She marched toward the house. She was going to scream at him. She didn't care about the cover.

She stopped outside the library door.

"Short the stock," Basil's voice floated out. It was crisp. Clear. "Sterling Industries. They're going to miss their earnings report on Monday. Do it now. Leverage everything in the blind trust."

Audie froze.

He sounded... sane. Perfectly, terrifyingly sane.

He wasn't a madman lashing out. He was a shark circling the water.

She backed away. If he was sane, then everything he did to her-the safe room, the threats, the games-wasn't illness. It was choice. Her mission parameters shifted in an instant. This wasn't a recovery operation. It was a war against an enemy combatant hiding in plain sight.

She went back to her room. She retrieved the donuts from the trash. She sat on her bed and ate a maple bar, the tears streaming down her face mixing with the sugar glaze. The sweetness tasted like ash. She wasn't just mourning the mechanic; she was mourning the simplicity of the mission she thought she had.

The pharmacy smelled of antiseptic and fluorescent lights.

Audie moved quickly down the aisle. She grabbed a bottle of multivitamins. Then, checking the mirrors, she grabbed a packet of birth control pills.

She slipped the blister pack inside the vitamin box.

She couldn't get pregnant. Not by him. That would be the end of everything.

She paid with the cash allowance Corine gave her. She walked out into the parking lot.

A black Chevy Suburban screeched to a halt in front of her. The windows were tinted so dark they looked like ink.

The back door popped open.

"Get in," Mercer said from the driver's seat.

Audie clutched the paper bag to her chest. She climbed in.

The air conditioning was blasting. Basil sat in the corner, a laptop open on his knees. He was watching a live feed of the stock market.

He didn't look up. He held out his hand.

"Give it to me."

Audie's heart stopped. He knew about the pills.

She handed him the bag, her hand shaking.

Basil looked inside. He pulled out the vitamin bottle. He shook it.

"Vitamins?" He scoffed. "You think these will fix you?"

He tossed the bottle onto the seat next to him. He didn't open it. He didn't see the contraceptive hidden inside.

Audie let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Basil reached into his pocket. He pulled out a velvet box. He tossed it into her lap.

Audie opened it.

Inside lay a heavy gold bangle. In the center sat a ruby the size of a quail's egg. It was gaudy. Ostentatious.

"Put it on," he ordered.

Audie looked at him, then at the bracelet, and slowly shook her head.

"Put. It. On."

Audie hesitated. Basil grabbed her wrist. He snapped the bracelet shut.

Click.

It was tight. Too tight.

Audie felt a cold metal node pressing against the pulse point on her wrist.

Basil turned his laptop screen toward her. A map of the city was open. A bright red dot pulsed in the center. Beside it, a number: 110 BPM. He tapped a key, and a second graph appeared, showing the spike in her heart rate from the moment he had demanded the bag. He knew she'd been lying, but he said nothing about it.

"It tracks location," Basil said, his voice devoid of emotion. "And biometrics. If you take it off, it alerts me. If your heart rate spikes, it alerts me. If you leave the estate perimeter without authorization..."

He let the sentence hang.

"You're tagging me," Audie whispered, the words escaping before she could stop them. "Like a dog."

"Like an investment," Basil corrected. "You're expensive, Audie. I need to protect my assets."

He leaned back, closing his eyes. "You won't be serving at the Gala tonight. You'll stay in your room."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anyone else looking at what's mine."

The car pulled up to the side gate. Mercer unlocked the door.

"Get out."

Audie stumbled out onto the pavement. The Suburban sped away toward the main entrance.

A sleek silver sedan was pulling in. The window rolled down.

Corine Morrow sat in the back seat. She was wearing sunglasses, though the sun had set. She looked at Audie.

Her gaze dropped to Audie's wrist. To the ruby pulsing in the twilight.

Corine's lips curved into a smile that was all teeth.

Audie yanked her sleeve down. But it was too late. The hunter had seen the bait.