touch you."
"Wh-why..." I can't finish.
"Shhh. I will kill anyone before they touch you."
I sometimes wonder if you forget it's dangerous. Malin's earlier concerns fly to my ears.
Did I not take his warning seriously enough? Is Gustave going to sell me under Malin's nose somehow? Is it possible?
"Please... I...don't..."
"Shhh." Malin firmly hushes me and tightens his arms around me. "Gustave has no authority over you. I paid for you. You are mine."
It feels like forever until Gustave comes back. He sits.
"What are you trying to do?" Malin seethes under his breath, glaring at Gustave.
"He agreed to give me access to all intel on the drug crops for all four cartels, border security, and military access. He will endorse me to take the place of Louis at Interpol."
"I don't care. No one will touch ma belle."
"Make sure they don't. You will go to the President's suite. He will watch. The rules of the stage will be in play. For one full hour, Roger will give you instructions on what he wants you to do, but he cannot touch her."
I gasp. My lungs seize, and I struggle to breathe.
"We will do no such thing," Malin argues.
Gustave scowls, lowering his voice. "This is what we need to end this. It's sixty minutes. No one will touch Emilia. You will be there. Do not let your emotions distract you from what's important. Do what needs to be done and do not let her break."
"My wife is what is important," Malin growls.
"Yes. As are the millions of other women in the world and everything else that falls apart should we not end this."
More women will continue to be owned and destroyed.
"I'll do it," I whisper.
Malin's eyes widen, flaring with shock and rage. "No, you will not."
"Yes. We must do whatever it takes to end this. Gustave is right."
"No, he's not," Malin says through clenched teeth.
"Play your role. Don't interfere with us getting what we need. And come to terms with it. You know there will be consequences for both of us if you back out," Gustave seethes, rises, and leaves.
I straddle Malin. "Listen to me."
"We are not going there."
"Keep our boundary," I blurt out.
His head jerks back. "What do you mean?"
"We will go. I will submit to you. You will deny me. No matter what, you will not give in to me. We will do what needs to be done for Gustave to get access. But none of them will break us."
"Emil—"
"I am your ma belle. Do not forget."
Malin takes a deep breath. "I could never forget. I will not subject you to this or let you take this risk."
I stick my chin out. "I will not break. I know what to do."
I've never seen Malin look so angry. "No."
"When will you understand I will be okay as long as you are with me?"
"Ma belle—"
I cup his cheeks. "There are too many women being harmed. We have to do this."
His gray eyes are dark. "No, we don't. I forbid you."
I blink hard. "You can't. Gustave made the deal. There's no backing out and you already know this. There will be consequences. It's an hour. I lasted longer before. Have faith in me."
"I always have faith in you, ma belle. This is not about that."
I lean closer to him. "Will you and Gustave get out of this room alive if you back out?"
He stares at the ceiling.
"We have no choice. We will do this, and tomorrow we will have another day together. Now kiss me. Show me how much you love me."
His eyes meet mine.
"Please," I whisper.
His hand possessively holds my head, and his lips and tongue consume me, leaving me breathless, wanting more, and spinning the web of our love around us.
But love can't protect you from evil or fate.
The music changes. I reposition myself on Malin's lap. He holds me tight, and a woman with a black bag over her head is led onstage.
My chest tightens, the flashback of the white bag covering my face triggers. I dig my nails into Malin's thigh.
He kisses my shoulder and leans into my ear. "Breathe, ma belle."
I inhale his leather and lime scent, calming.
Roger steps in front of the woman. He says something near her ear, and she shudders. He turns, his arrogant expression makes my stomach twist.
Malin's hand covers mine, and gratitude fills me. I feel guilty about it. My heart is breaking for the woman under the bag. I could have been her, waiting to have it lifted to see who bought me, instead of knowing