Chapter 22

I stare down at the corset, not moving to pick it up.

He doesn’t move from the sofa either.

A few minutes pass where neither of us says anything. I just breathe through the silence, my brain whirring with every possible response, every excuse I can give him.

Even if I just tell him it’s a corset I own, feigning ignorance of the club, I know he knows it’s the exact same one. He spends hours running his hands over it, studying it as he watches my body react in each session. There is no way I can pretend I don’t work there.

Eventually, I slowly bend down and pick it up. His head turns slightly at the movement.

“David, I—”

“No. You don’t get to talk,” he snaps, finally standing up from the sofa and marching over to me. He throws his glass onto the floor, and it shatters ev