The next day I continued to play my part. I moved when he told me to move; I stayed still when he wanted me still. I was an actress in a horror movie, waiting for the credits to roll, counting down the seconds until the boutique lady’s son would be my only hope.
The walls of the penthouse began to feel like they were closing in. The expensive art, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a city I was no longer allowed to touch—it was all just a high-end cell. Jason had "restored" my access to a phone, but it was a new one. A clean one. I knew better than to check for the boutique’s number or search for Liam’s contact. I knew he was tracking every keystroke.
The penthouse felt haunted. Elena and the rest of the staff moved like ghosts, keeping their heads down, barely meeting my eyes. I
