After My Fiancé Traded Me for His Mistress

The champagne tasted expensive. I remember thinking that. Kaysen handed me the glass with both hands, like it mattered. Like this was one of those moments we'd tell our grandchildren about someday. The Mediterranean stretched black and endless beyond the stateroom window. Moonlight made the water look like oil.

"To us," he said.

I smiled. Raised the glass. Drank.

The bubbles felt sharp against my tongue. There was something else underneath—bitter, chemical—but I told myself it was just the brand. Rich people drank weird things. I was still learning the rules of Kaysen's world. Still trying to fit.

I set the glass down. "Rayna's performance was beautiful tonight."

Kaysen's jaw tightened. Just for a second. Then the smile came back. "She messed up the third movement."

"I didn't notice."

"Darius noticed."

I laughed. It sounded light. Easy. The laugh of a woman who didn't know anything yet. "He'll get over it. Men like that always do."

Kaysen looked at me. Really looked. Like he was memorizing my face. I thought it was love.

I was so stupid.

The room tilted. I put my hand on the armrest. "I feel—"

The words dissolved. My tongue went thick. The walls bent sideways. I tried to stand and my knees unlocked like someone cut the strings.

Kaysen caught me. His hands were steady. Careful. He lowered me onto the bed and I tried to ask what was happening but my mouth wouldn't work. My vision tunneled. The last thing I saw was his face—hollow and smooth and empty—before everything went black.

***

I woke up to cold air on my skin.

Too much skin.

My wrists were above my head. Silk wrapped tight around them. I pulled and the headboard rattled. My dress was gone. My underwear was gone. Everything was gone.

Panic slammed into my chest. I yanked against the restraints. The silk bit into my wrists. I tried to scream but my throat was dry and the sound came out broken.

"She's awake."

That voice. I knew that voice.

I turned my head. Darius Mendez stood at the foot of the bed. He was huge. Bigger than I remembered from the performance hall. His eyes moved over my body like I was inventory.

I tried to cover myself. Couldn't. My hands were tied. My legs were free but what was I supposed to do? Kick a crime lord?

"Kaysen," I whispered. My voice cracked. "Kaysen, please—"

Movement in the doorway. I turned.

He was standing there.

Kaysen. My fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in three months. He was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watching me tied to another man's bed.

"Kaysen!" I screamed it this time. "What is this? What's happening?"

He didn't move. His face was blank. Smooth. Like a mask.

Darius smiled. "Your boy made a deal. My associate here—" He gestured toward Kaysen without looking away from me. "—offered compensation for his woman's mistake tonight."

"What?" I couldn't breathe. "What mistake? I didn't—"

"Not you." Darius's smile widened. "Rayna."

Rayna.

I looked past Kaysen. She was there. Leaning against the doorframe. Arms crossed. Watching.

She wasn't smirking. Not quite. But her mouth was soft. Satisfied. Like she'd just won something.

"Kaysen," I said again. My voice was shaking. "Please. Tell me this isn't—"

"She's clean," Kaysen said.

His voice was steady. Businesslike. He was talking to Darius. Not me.

"Untouched," Kaysen continued. "I can confirm that personally. She's yours."

The words didn't make sense. I heard them but they didn't land. They couldn't land. Because if they landed, it meant—

"You're giving me to him?" I whispered.

Kaysen finally looked at me. His eyes were hollow. "I'm sorry, Danna. But Rayna's hands—"

"Her *hands*?"

"She's a pianist. If Darius breaks her fingers, her career is over. I couldn't let that happen."

Something inside me stopped moving. Stopped feeling. It was like a door closing. Quiet. Final.

I looked at him. Really looked. At the man I'd loved. The man I'd built a life around. The man I'd buried half of myself to be with.

He'd drugged me. Stripped me. Tied me to a bed.

For her.

Darius stepped closer. His hand reached toward my ankle.

I didn't flinch. I was somewhere else now. Somewhere cold and far away.

His fingers brushed my calf. Then stopped.

His eyes locked on something behind my head. At the base of my neck.

His face changed.

All the color drained out. His hand jerked back like I'd burned him. He stumbled. Actually stumbled. His knee hit the floor.

"No," he whispered.

I blinked. Didn't understand.

Darius was on his knees. Both knees. His head was down. His shoulders were shaking.

"Forgive me," he stammered. "I didn't—I didn't know—"

Kaysen stepped forward. "What are you—"

"The crest," Darius choked out. "She has the *crest*."

Silence.

I felt it then. The tattoo at the base of my neck. The raven.

The one thing I couldn't erase.

Kaysen's face went white. Rayna straightened. Her smirk died.

Darius was groveling. The most dangerous man on this ship was on his knees, begging forgiveness from the woman they'd just thrown away like garbage.

I smiled.

It wasn't a nice smile.