You should have left. A long time ago.

You told yourself that every time you looked in the mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back at you—hair shinier, skin glowing, dressed in silks and gold like a prize on display. Rafe had plucked you from the Cut and set you down in his world, wrapping you in luxury so tight you couldn’t breathe.

“Baby,” Rafe’s voice cut through your thoughts, smooth and coaxing, the way it always was when he was in a good mood. His gaze was heavy, possessive, like he was drinking you in.

“You look so fucking pretty,” he murmured, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you. “You did it for me, huh? Dressing up all pretty-like?”

He reached out, his fingers skimming the gold necklace he’d bought you last week—a delicate little thing that sat against your collarbones, expensive enough to make your stomach churn. It was meant to replace the simple shell pendant you used to wear, the one Kiara had given you on your sixteenth birthday. That one had strangely disappeared. Like all the other little remnants of your old life.

“Yeah,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. You couldn't help it, how you craved his comfort. You were weak when it came to Rafe, and he knew it. He counted on it.

“I’m gonna be gone for a few hours,” he told you. “Need to run some errands. Nothing you need to worry about, pretty girl, don't worry. But when I get back, I was thinking we could take the boat out?"

“Rafe,” you started slowly, stomach twisting, “maybe I could—”

His smile dropped in an instant. "What?"

You hesitated, feeling your pulse spike. “Maybe I could—could go see JJ? Just for a little bit?”

His jaw clenched, blue eyes flashing. “Why?”

“Because he's my friend,” you said quietly, hating the way your voice shook.

Rafe scoffed. “No, baby. He was your friend. Back when you were nothing. But look at you now! You don’t need them. You have me.”