Was she really considering that? Trading herself just to make it through the month?
Just to buy enough time in the hope that someone would pull her out of this pit?
And then, when she was just about to make that call—to a man she didn't even respect, just so she wouldn't lose her apartment—her phone lit up.
Unknown number.
She froze.
Heart pounding. Fingers trembling. Breath caught in her throat.
She picked it up and answered.
"Jane," said the voice on the other end. Smooth. Deep. Smug. Every syllable was dipped in poison and silk.
It was Ross.
"Have you thought about my offer?"
His voice was calm, almost bored, as if they were talking about something as mundane as a dinner reservation.
But Jane knew better. Every word dripped with power—his power—and the knowledge that she had none left.
For a moment, she couldn't answer. The lump in her throat was too heavy.
Ross chuckled softly at her silence. "I figured you might come around eventually."
Ross didn't waste time.
