But what he didn't know was that I no longer wanted to leave.
Because that would be letting him off too easy.
I shut the stall door and pressed a button on my watch.
After a crackle of static, a bright, wheedling voice came through from the other end.
"Sis! Didn't you say you were coming back to the Harbor District today?"
"I was worried you'd be tired, so I brought people to pick you up. Pretty thoughtful of your little brother, right? Where are you?"
I took a deep breath, keeping my voice level.
"I've been taken. He betrayed me. He's forcing me to be his mistress's pet."
"The Wiley family code: repay every kindness, avenge every wrong. I shouldn't have to tell you what to do."
A beat of silence.
When Graham Wiley spoke again, every trace of playfulness was gone. His voice was thick with barely restrained fury.
"Send me your location. I'm on my way. That piece of garbage is dead."
Laurence had his men escort me to Camille and spoke in a gentle tone.
"Camille, darling, today Gillian is your personal pet. You can make her do whatever you want."
"Aww, I just knew you were the sweetest to me!" Camille planted a happy kiss on his cheek.
Then her gaze dropped to the wooden sign hanging from my chest, and she burst out laughing.
"No wonder Gillian didn't like the beer-bottle sign from yesterday. Turns out she prefers this kind. A natural-born glutton for punishment."
"But I've never seen a dog stand in front of its owner before. Looks like I'll need to teach you some manners first."
The moment the words left her mouth, Laurence shot a look at his bodyguards.
They kicked the backs of my knees without warning.
The pain buckled my legs and I dropped to the floor with a dull thud. The entire room erupted in laughter.
I tried to stand, but heavy hands clamped down on my shoulders and held me in place.
Camille sauntered over, swaying her hips, and slapped my face twice.
"There we go. A dog should look like a dog."
"Good girl. Are you hungry? Your owner prepared a treat for you."
She had someone bring over the trash can from the dining table. Inside were chicken bones she had just gnawed clean and tossed away.
Along with the vomit of some guest who couldn't hold his liquor and had thrown up after half a glass.
Camille stared at me with a taunting look and leaned close to my ear, whispering.
"You little tramp. Weren't you so full of yourself? Too bad the one who's going to eat garbage now is you."
So this was her revenge for what I'd said yesterday.
I looked at Laurence, my voice calm.
"Is this what you want too?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. He was about to speak.
But Camille pouted, looking wounded.
"Mr. Morton, I'm only trying to teach her to behave. So she won't throw jealous tantrums anymore, or threaten you with divorce every time she doesn't get her way after you're married."
"Besides, you're the one who promised to stand up for me. Was that all a lie? Fine then, forget it. I'll give you back the pendant, resign on the spot, and get out of your sight!"
Laurence pulled her into his arms, soothing her, then turned to me with a voice like a command.
"Gillian, don't forget what you just promised me. You don't want the pendant anymore?"
"Camille is doing this for your own good. What successful man doesn't have women on the side? As a wife, you need to learn to be gracious and tolerant. Consider this my test for you."
"Don't make the birthday girl upset. Be a good girl and eat, and I promise I won't hold it against you. After today, you'll be the one and only Mrs. Morton."
My fingers slowly curled into fists. I stared in silence at this man I had once given my whole heart to.
When the Morton ancestors left behind that pair of jade pendants, they had said:
In ordinary times, keep them close for protection. In desperate times, use them as the seed money for a comeback.
But generation after generation, no matter how bitter or hard life became, not a single person had ever sold them.
