t felt like it was soundproofing the world, leaving me alone with the man who had just pointed a gun at my fami

ch him without him seeing the terror in my eyes. He sat there like a king on a thron

," he said. His voice wasn't loud,

s way," I slurred, my tongue feeling heavy. "It filter

I flinched, pulling back into the seat, but he didn't raise a hand. Instead, he grippe

out of the lining. He looked at the little plastic device with such disgust t

man of low imagina

d me his hand, but I ignored it. I tried to walk with my usual swagger, the "pa

ome. It was a prison. And as the door slammed shut behind us, I

for the sounds of a normal household. I expected a butler to take my coat,

hin

heart was doing a frantic tap-dance against my ribs. The Xanax from earlier was wearing off, leaving

. "I don't like strangers in my space, Luca. Staff are witn

, feeling for the small plastic container of pills. I needed another hit. The reality of this house- the

"The master suite is at the

grand staircase. I ducked into the bathroom, my hands shaking so hard I almost dropp

ve him what he wants. Make it quick. Become the d

e feel even smaller. It was a cavern of greys and deep blacks. The

like they were carved from granite. He was standing by a small bar

t stood there, a silhouette

g, music, or the sound of things breaking. Here, I could hear my own blood rushing in my

e control before he did. If my body was m

e to get on my knees?" I said, my

clinical boredom. He didn't move as I approached him.

sly cold filled my senses. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I touched the buttons

y head back, offering my neck, my eyes half-open. "You bought the South Side Prince. Yo

ng. I was terrified, but I masked it with a smirk I did

't even breathe faster. He just stood there, looki

he m

lt like iron shackles. He jerked my hands away from my waist an

st; they were full of a cold, terrifying fury. "You think you can just offer your body like a commo

the bravado cracking. "This is what everyone w

ed in closer, his nose brushing mine. "And I don't touch men wh

d reached into my pocket, then t

ped, but it w

pills rattling inside like a death knell. His face went stone-cold. H

l. "No drugs in my house. I told you that in the car,

ng through the chemical fog. "Give them back! You d

to the bathroom, dragging me by the arm. I stumbled, my bo

ilas,

ed the entire stash into the bowl. I watched, horrified, as the white p

oul had been flu

e mine. All of you. No filters. No fog. You're going to feel every second of being in this house,

rd now, but instead of the usual numbness, it felt like a wave of nausea. The silence of

whispered, but my v

ghtening. "Hate is real. Hate is honest. It's

t broke across my forehead. The panic, the drugs, the rejection, and the s

e a violent, p

ped, my hand fly

ent dark at the edges as I doubled over, my body

on the cold marble

tripped away the last of my dignity. I waited for the blow. I wai

warm hand settle heavil

is voice was no longer angry. It

n my face, and saw him standing

the North,"