My Husband Locked Me in the Basement for His Mistress

The black sedan pulled up to the building at noon. I sat in the back seat and looked at the glass tower through the tinted window. The Lawson penthouse. My home. Once.

The driver opened my door. I stepped onto the curb. My legs felt steady. That surprised me. Two years ago they dragged me out of here screaming. Today I walked back in on my own feet.

A woman in a gray uniform stood beside the car. She was from the Retreat. Her name was Miss Holloway. She had watched me every day for twenty-four months. She knew how I looked when I broke. She knew the sound I made when I couldn't break anymore.

"Remember the rules, Luella," she said quietly. "Obedience. Gratitude. Service."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

She nodded. She got back in the car. It drove away.

I stood on the sidewalk holding a small duffel bag. Everything I owned fit inside it now. I used to have a walk-in closet. I used to have a life.

I walked through the lobby. The doorman didn't recognize me. I took the elevator to the top floor. The doors opened into the foyer. White marble. Gold fixtures. Fresh lilies in a crystal vase. I used to pick those flowers myself.

I stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind me.

Cassian was in the living room. He stood by the window with his back to me. Tall. Dark suit. Hands in his pockets. He didn't turn around.

"She's here," he said.

A woman appeared from the hallway. She wore a silk blouse and tailored pants. Her hair was glossy and dark. Her nails were painted red. She smiled when she saw me.

Emberly Cruz.

She walked toward me slowly. Her heels clicked on the marble. She stopped a few feet away and looked me over. Her smile got wider.

"Well," she said. "You look better than I expected."

I kept my eyes down. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Ma'am. I like that." She circled me. I didn't move. "Cassian, she's very well-trained now. They did a good job."

He still hadn't turned around. "Fine."

Emberly stopped in front of me again. "Let's go over the rules, Luella. You'll sleep in the storage room downstairs. You'll cook our meals. You'll clean. You'll do laundry. You'll address me as Ma'am and Cassian as Sir. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not leave this apartment without permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good." She reached out and lifted my chin with one finger. Her nails pressed into my skin. "Look at me."

I raised my eyes. Hers were brown and bright. Triumphant.

"This is my home now," she said softly. "My life. My man. You're here because we allow it. Remember that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She let go. "Cassian will show you to your room. Dinner at seven. Don't be late."

She walked away. Her perfume lingered. It was expensive. It wasn't hers. It was mine. The bottle I left on my dresser two years ago.

Cassian finally turned around. He looked at me. His face was blank. No recognition. No guilt. Nothing.

"Follow me," he said.

He walked toward the back staircase. I followed. We went down to the basement level. He opened a door at the end of the hall. The light inside was harsh and white.

It was a storage room once. Now there was a cot against the wall. A thin blanket. A single pillow. A drain in the concrete floor. No windows.

"This is yours," Cassian said. He still wasn't looking at me. "Bathroom is across the hall. You can use it between five and six in the morning. No other time."

"Yes, sir."

He turned to leave. Then he stopped. His hand was on the doorframe. His shoulders were tight.

"You brought this on yourself," he said quietly.

I didn't answer. He left. The door stayed open. I walked inside and set my bag on the cot. I took off my coat. The room was cold.

I reached into the coat lining. My fingers found the small sewn pouch. I pulled it out and sat on the cot. I opened the pouch. Two tiny knitted booties. One pink. One blue.

I held them in my hands. I didn't cry. I stopped crying a long time ago.

I tucked the pouch under the mattress. I stood up. I smoothed my shirt. I walked upstairs to the kitchen.

Emberly was sitting at the island with a glass of wine. She looked up when I came in.

"There's chicken in the fridge," she said. "Make something nice. Cassian likes garlic."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I washed my hands. I opened the fridge. I took out the chicken. I set it on the counter. I found a knife.

Emberly watched me over her wine glass. She was smiling.

I started chopping garlic. My hands were steady. I was already counting.