In the kitchen Elena’s eyes burned. She stared at the counter and listened to her mother’s breathing change in the living room—short, uneven, the sound of someone taking a hit they had already braced for and still feeling it land. The complete submission from the night before sat in Elena’s body like a second pulse. The thick claim inside her and the aching marks under her sweater and the absolute fact of Marcus’s ownership were all fully present while Victoria stood twenty feet away and received the direct, unsoftened version of the truth for the first time.

Victoria’s voice, when it came again, was quieter and more dangerous.

“I want...