Micah exhaled, her eyes dropping down to her plate. I could practically see the gears turning in her mind—she wanted to lash out, to make a statement now that she finally knew I was the anonymous bidder who bought her, the man who had been orchestrating her fate all along. But she swallowed her words, choosing instead to pick idly at her food in silence.

I hated her silence. The quiet between us felt heavier than an open argument.

"Have you got something to say?" I asked, my voice cutting through the clatter of silverware.

"No, Don," she replied dryly, transferring a piece of chicken to her plate.

We finished...