Weeks after Harry’s degrading assault, Veronica was a hollow echo of her queen-like self, her curvaceous beauty a cruel burden under Simon’s iron grip. The blackmail video was a noose, tightening with every leering glance from her manager. Simon’s “sweet” mask barely hid his predatory hunger, and his latest move—a text with his home address and a chilling threat: “Come tonight, or the video goes public”—sent dread coursing through her. Veronica arrived at his modern, secluded house, her black skirt and white blouse accentuating her magnetic figure, her round breasts straining the fabric, her hips swaying with unintended allure. Simon opened the door, his muscular frame looming, his smirk a promise of depravity. Behind him, Antonio, a smug colleague with a roguish grin, lounged in the living room, his presence confirming her fears: Simon was a dirty man, and others might be part of his game. Her stomach churned, her inexperience—despite dating several boys in college—leaving her unprepa...