“Calista, you can’t succumb to this madness,” Anthony said, his eyes fixed on her as they were both untied from the chair.

“Why not? Aside from being a slaughterhouse, it doubles as a pleasure house. You have nothing to worry about,” Signoral mocked, watching them as Anthony tended to his wounds.

“I’ll give you both all the time you need to ‘love up.’”

Calista’s face burned with anger and despair as she stared at Anthony, still bruised and bleeding from the earlier beating. His pained expression, however, wasn’t for his injuries but for the words Calista had just spoken.

“I’ll do it,” she repeated, her voice trembling. “If it stops...