Her chest tightened. Not from guilt, but from a sudden, burning wave of indignation. He'd read her actions, yes. But he'd misunderstood her intentions entirely.
Darius didn't pause. He didn't seem to notice her rising discomfort. Or maybe he did, and simply didn't care.
"Name your price," he said. "It will be paid monthly into your account. But," he added, voice growing colder now, "as my woman, you will do as I demand. When I demand it."
Cassandra sat frozen.
Was this an offer? A deal? Or a leash?
Her thoughts spun.
This was exactly what she'd planned, get close, seduce him, manipulate her way into his world, but now that she was standing on the edge of that success, it felt like a trap. Cold. Clinical. Transactional.
And insulting.
Her mouth finally moved, but the words died befo
