Page 81 of The Vixen

I could press, but something in her eyes holds me back. An innocence that only glimmered before. She’s the same devil I fucked days ago—but for the most horrific moment, she looks like a girl.

Breakable. Naive.

She’s the woman from before, faking her tears and mimicking cries, her identity still unknown. I’d seen the abuse beneath her calculating exterior, but it never occurred to ask what kind.

It shouldn’t make a difference. But it does.

“How old were you when it started?” My voice is soft. Genuine—though she’ll question if the concern is fake. I would too.

My eyes draw to the sloped tendons of her neck as she swallows, yellowed bruises publicly exposed for the first time in days. The outline of my hand is barely visible in the dark, but it holds my stare.

“As I’ve told you many times, I don’t expect you to understand my world… Stop judging it with the same rules as you judge your own.”

“I’m not judging you—or your people. I’m judging your father.”

“Well don’t.” She backpedals a step as if on impulse. Her head turns as she laughs. “Your acting is pathetic today.”

I rear back as something flicks my sternum.

“I’m not acting…I’m trying to understand you. I’mconcernedfor?—”

“Don’t,” she growls. Her hands squeeze her arms so hard, she nearly curls them into fists. I’m not sure she’s capable of looking at me. “Don’tpretend you care about me. Just don’t, okay? Just stop it.”

“Idocare about you.” I inch closer. She steps back. “You’re a human being. You’ve been brainwashed and abused your entire life.Of courseI care about you.”

Something in my voice sounds wrong. Forced, somehow—my mind shifting left and right, lost in the confusion.

I hate this woman.

But then I don’t.

She’s my enemy.

But then she’s not.

“I’mbrainwashed?” she spits with a bitter laugh.

“Look around you.” I wave a hand. “What do you think this place is? Truly, when you look, what do you see?”

“My home,” she’s quick to say.

“It’s a trafficking ring, Luna.”

She rolls her eyes. Her lips flatten.

“Look. Justlook, and you’ll see it. You don’t initiate women because your father doesn’t need to. Hebreedssex slaves. That’s how he avoids the authorities.”

Luna shakes her head. “Just stop.”

“Why do you think the girls aren’t taught to read? He wants you ignorant. And isolated. I know you’re smart enough to recognize that.”

“Stop.”

“You own a copy of the DSM. You know the characteristics of a sociopath. You’re not seeing it because he’s kept control over you your entire life, and I get that it hurts, but come on, Luna, deep down, you already?—”

“I said stop!” Her hands fly up as she screeches, and her eyes pin me with a glare. Desperate. Scared. Not angry.

A thought flashes that seems to slow time, seconds stretching wide as I stand stock still.