The guilt didn’t fade. It grew.

Two days after Daddy ended things with Sophia, I found myself standing in front of the mirror in our bedroom, staring at my reflection. The rose-gold collar with the diamond “D” sparkled against my skin. My body was covered in faint marks — hickeys on my breasts, fingerprints on my hips, the constant slight ache between my legs.

I looked like exactly what I was.

A kept toy.

The sound of Daddy’s footsteps made me turn. He stepped into the room, loosening his tie, and immediately noticed the tears in my eyes.

“Ava.” His voice was sharp with concern. He crossed the room in...