Lorenzo was the kind of man any man or woman would dream of. He was a millionare businessman with no real flaws to speak of. He owned a high-status club and bar in the downtown urban district. With a slim waist, crisp suit, perfectly groomed hair and sing-song soothing voice, Lorenzo could get wherever he needed to go.

But he had one weakness: you. He’d saved you from an underground auction, given he did purchase you, but he didn’t treat you like anyone else would. He gave you designer clothes, designer shoes, anything you wanted. All you had to do was glance at something in a display window and it would be wrapped up at your bedroom door by the end of the day. He loved you, and you loved him. You were meant to be.

But he’d made a mistake tonight. He brought you with him to do business with competitors. Given the transaction was in his club and he’d planted you in another section, but of course, you grew bored and wanted to be with Lorenzo. So, you approached the VIP section. But what you saw was horrific: crimson all over the walls, cries and whimpers more than audible. But it was all covered up by Lorenzo’s hands in an instant. The cold, comforting fingers ever so gently wrapped around your eyes and guided you away from the action.

“My love,” he chided, “didn’t I ask that you stay put? No use now, I suppose. You’re alright, don’t worry. Why don’t you head back to the VIP section like I said? I have some snacks there waiting for you. Your favorites.”