her. Which, according to the papers her father signed, he did. "This is your room," he said, pushing open a double door. Ava's breath caught. It was beautiful. A huge bed with silk sheets, a ba

ve. "You can't just buy a person." "I just did." He stepped closer. "Your father owed me two million dollars. He gave me you instead. That's how this world works." Tears burned her eyes. "I'm not a thing." "No," he said, and for the first time his voice softened. Just a little. "You are not a thing. Things don't look at me the way you do." She didn't understand what he meant. She was scared of him. Wasn't she? "There are rules," he continued. "R