Avery looks down at the dirty white sink. She doesn't want to see her face and bruised skin in the mirror. Evan steps behind her and tugs her hair, forcing her to look at herself. She barely recognizes her reflection.

"Look at yourself," Evan says. "You're all mine. You can't make love with any other men. The tattoo on your arm has the poisonous turquoise in it—if you make love with another man, you'll die."

Avery rolls her eyes and looks at Evan's reflection in the mirror. She doesn't believe that the poison will somehow enter her blood and kill her if she makes love with another man, but it's clear that Evan does. She meets his eyes in the mirror and shrugs.

"You should enjoy being with me," Evan says, biting her earlobe. "If you leave me, you'll have to be abstinent. One day, your desire will get so strong, you'll fuck another man, and it'll kill you."

"Thanks for the advice," Avery says dryly. "But aren't you worried for yourself—you have a tattoo too."

"I'll use a condom," Evan says with a casual shrug.

"Well, I guess that's a risk I'll just have to take," Avery says, hoping to make him jealous. "Of course, I could always ask the man to wear a condom too, but I think I might risk it. If I survive, I'll let you know—when you don't have to wear the condom either."

Evan pushes his body against Avery, slamming her into the sink again. Her arm bumps against the soap dish, and it falls to the floor with a loud clatter. For a minute, she's afraid he wants to fuck her again. He nips her neck and then brushes his lips against her ear.

"Don't you dare risk your life for something like that," Evan says. "Especially not with Andrew. I swear, if he dares to fuck you, I'll kill him."

Avery bites her lip and stands still. Eventually, Evan releases his hold on her. He stomps out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. She climbs into the chipped bathtub and turns the water on. She adjusts the dial, making it as hot as it can go and scrubs her skin until it hurts.

She slowly steps out of the bathtub and wraps a towel around herself. Her entire body aches from the rough lovemaking. She pushes the bathroom door open and sees three female servants in her room. Two of them are digging through her wardrobe, and the third is taking pictures of the different outfits.

"What are you doing here?" Avery asks. "This is my bedroom. You can't be in here without my permission." She points at the door and snaps her fingers, "Get out! Now!"

"Miss Summers asked us to take photos of your sexy new clothes," one of the servants says. "She was really interested in them."

"I had no idea Leonie was so into things like that," Avery says, crossing the room. She bends over the bed and picks up a gold bikini top and matching the short skirt. "Please give this to Leonie as a gift from me. I think it's exactly her size and style."

The servants laugh loudly and roll their eyes. Suddenly one of them grabs Avery's arms and pin them down to her sides. Another snatches the gold outfit and slowly looks at Avery. The woman smirks when she sees that Avery is covered in hickeys.

"Miss Summers isn't like you—she's not a slut," the servant says. "Honestly, you're so shameless, Avery. Even though you're pregnant, you're still sleeping around. Look at you, and you look like you had at least three different men yesterday. I know a lot of bodyguards have rooms near here—were they able to satisfy you?"

Avery glares at the servant. She's short and thin with bleached blonde hair and sickly looking skin. Avery vaguely recognizes her as one of Leonie's personal servants. The servant stares back boldly.

"I think you've forgotten who you're talking to," Avery says cooly.

The servant raises her chin and says, "I think you've forgotten who you are. You're not Mrs. Howel anymore. You're just Evan's whore now. You're even lower than us—at least we do honest, respectable work for a living."

"Because kissing Leonie's ass is so respectable," Avery snaps. "I know she sent you here for a reason, so just tell me what she wants. I want to move on with my day."

"Miss Summers wants you to have a little fashion show," the servant says.

Slowly the three servants close in around Avery. Each woman holds several outfits in her arms, and Avery quickly realizes they're the skimpiest and most revealing. She protectively holds the towel around herself. One of the servants laughs and tugs the towel away, leaving Avery naked in the middle of the room.

"How dare you," she screams.

"We're acting on Miss Summers' direct orders," the servant says. "If you won't put the clothes on willingly, we'll do it ourselves. If you try to fight us, it won't end well for you."

Avery tries to pull a blanket off the bed, but one of the servants is faster. Instead, Avery puts one arm over her breasts and holds another in front of her crotch. The women roll their eyes and laugh.

"It's strange to see a slut act so shy about her body," the blonde servant says. "What are you trying to hide? We have all the same parts as you."

"Maybe she's afraid a bodyguard will come in and see," says a brunette servant.

The blonde servant laughs and says, "I doubt that. I'm sure she'd love all of the bodyguards to come in and see."

Avery feels her face flush with anger, and she curls her fingers into a fist. Before she can throw a single punch, the women pounce. The brunette servant forces the gold top over her head, and the blonde slides the skirt up Avery''s legs.

"Let me go," Avery screams. "I can finish dressing."

"Don't lie to us," the blonde says. "I have to take pictures of you in the outfits. If you try to pull any tricks, we'll use any force we need."

"I'm not trying to trick you," Avery says. "Besides, I can't defend myself against all three of you."

"Fine, let her go, ladies," the blonde says. She snaps her fingers at the brunette and says, "And you, go stand by the door and guard it."

Avery grabs the rest of the outfit and walks toward the bathroom. Her cheeks feel hot with humiliation, and she can feel the servant's eyes on her naked body. The blonde quickly steps in front of the bathroom door, pushing her flat palm into Avery's chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" the servant asks.

"I have to use the toilet," Avery says. "I'll put the costume on when I'm done, I swear."

The servant smiles cruelly and says, "I'm afraid that's not allowed."

"That's sick," Avery says. "I'm a pregnant woman, and I can't hold it. Do you want me to pee on the carpet? That's disgusting. Besides, Evan will be furious if he finds out you've treated me this way."

"Do you think Mr. Howel will really come to visit you?" the blonde asks. "Please, he's disgusted by you. Besides, you don't want him to come here and see you covered in all those shameful hickeys."

"I know he'll come to visit me," Avery says. "And if you're so worried about my hickeys, you can ask him where I got them. He knows how I got each and everyone."

Just talking about the hickeys makes Avery feel nauseous, but she wants to take the servant down a peg. The woman's arrogance and cruelty upset her. The servant grist her teeth but doesn't say anything. Instead, she grabs the phone from the nightstand and dials a number.