"I would love to," I said, looking into Claire's hopeful eyes. "But I can't."

She frowned, glancing at her brother whose eyes never left me. "You can't? Why?"

"Technically... you can't hire me." I bit the inside of my cheek. Opening up was more difficult than I thought. "I don't have an ID."

"Yes, I know it was stolen. But you can always make a new one," she said.

"You don't understand, Claire." I shook my head, speaking slowly. "I don't have an ID. I never had one to begin with."

Nathaniel was the first to recover. He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Birth certificate?"

"None," I replied. He rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw.

Shocked and confused, Claire looked at her coffee, her forehead creased in thought, no doubt trying to make sense of my situation.

I dropped the first bomb. Let's see how good they'd handle it. Speaking about my past, no matter how insignificant the information was, chilled my body to the bone.

I wrapped my hands tighter around my drink to keep them from trembling. Even its warmth failed to chase away the cold bite of fear.

It was okay. This information could not possibly give them any hint about where we'd come from, not that they could ever imagine such a place existed. The thought settled my heart some.

"We can solve that," Nathaniel said after a few minutes. "We can make you an ID."

"Is it doable without even a birth certificate?" Claire wondered. But that wasn't my first concern.

Nathaniel nodded. "There should be a way."

"Even if there was," I said. "If the police have to get involved at some point, then you can forget about it. I'd rather drag Mark screaming than have any police record of me in this state."

Nathaniel's eyes speared through me. Claire raised her brows.

"Why don't you want the police involved?" Nathaniel asked, his voice too calm considering the situation. I could be a fugitive for all he knew, yet he didn't look alarmed in the slightest.

Thinking about how to answer the question without giving too much away, I sipped on my coffee. I didn't want to lie. They deserved honesty after all they'd done for us. But I couldn't tell the entire truth either. It would get me and them in dangerous trouble.

I took a deep breath. "I'm running away from someone. They have connections in the police."

"That's why..." Claire breathed out, leaning back in her seat. She shook her head. "But how come you don't have a birth certificate?"

"Because my mother didn't register me," I replied truthfully, "or Mark, for that matter."

Claire sighed. "Do I even want to ask why?"

I gave her a tight smile and shook my head. She nodded. "Very well. But I'm here to listen whenever you want to talk about it."

That was very unlikely, but, "Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

"Good." She smiled. "Anyway, Nathaniel can figure something out. Meanwhile, you can start working at the café."

I blinked. Hope expanding in my chest. "Are you sure?"

Her smile widened. "Positive. If something happens, I'll figure it out, don't worry. I know you'll go crazy if you stay locked up in here, and you don't really like having things handed to you, so..."

My hands slackened around the cup. I breathed out, smiling at Claire. She had no idea how grateful I was; she gave me a second chance at a life. A normal life.

I had thought... I had thought telling them would make them suspicious of me. I was so happy I was wrong.

"Thank you." I cleared my throat when my voice broke. "Thank you, Claire."

"You're welcome," she said, then stood up with a groan, stretching her arms. "I have to go back home. You should drop by sometime, it's just a few floors down."

"I will." I stood up. Claire walked around the table and wrapped me in a hug. My body locked up.

Claire pretended not to notice and patted my back, pulling away. She grinned. "I'm so glad you guys are staying."

Nathaniel saw her and Cecile out. He came back a minute later, I was still standing.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickering to my cup. "Do you want a refill?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you," I said. "I'll get started on lunch."

"How about we just order something," he said, loosening his tie. "Pizza?"

"Sure."

He nodded, taking his phone out. "I'll do that."

I took the cups to the sink and rinsed them while Nathaniel ordered. He'd just ended the call when his phone rang. With a heavy sigh, he replied.

It sounded like an important work call, so I left him to it, partly because I didn't want to eavesdrop and partly because the air between us was awkward.

Curled on the couch in the library, Mark was absorbed in some book. He barely glanced up when I came in. I scanned the cover of the book, something about economics. Safe.

I let him read and strolled through the sprawling room, inspecting the book shelves as I walked by, my footsteps quiet on the dark wooden floor.

My shoulders hunched under the weight of my decision. It was a huge risk, staying in a place where they might still have influence.

My brain already worked out calculations and precautions we should be living by in order to stay undetected.

The optimistic side of me insisted that since they hadn't found us when we lived exposed on the streets, they wouldn't find us now that we were partly protected. Maybe they had even stopped looking for us. Maybe they knew we wouldn't talk, and even if we did, no one would believe us.

Hope was a dangerous thing.

Shaking my head, I reached behind me and touched the small of my back under my top. The mangled skin burned my fingers, an eternal reminder of where I'd come from.

I trampled down on the guilt I felt whenever I thought of what we had left behind. Mark and I were lucky enough to escape, but there were so many others who couldn't. I wanted to help them, God knows I did. But I couldn't do it if it meant putting Mark at risk.

"Daphie." I turned my head at Mark's voice. He closed his book and looked at me. "I'm hungry."

I waited for the panic those very words would have induced days ago to hit. It didn't. I smiled. "Claire brought cinnamon rolls, and Nathaniel ordered pizza. Let's go see if it's here yet."

He put the book back in its spot and joined me by the door. Holding my sweater, he looked down at his feet. "Are you glad we stayed?"

"Are you?"

He glanced up and grinned. "I am. I'm very happy we stayed."

"Good." I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Then I guess I'm glad, too."

"Good."

Mark and I headed to the living room, right as the doorbell rang. Nathaniel was nowhere to be seen. The doorbell rang again. I glanced at the door. Should I check who it was?

Nathaniel rushed out of the hallway, half naked.

My entire body locked. The sight of a bare man wasn't new to me. But it elicited unpleasant reactions from both Mark and I.

I was able to hide my emotions the way I usually did, but Mark couldn't. He whimpered and hid behind me, clutching my clothes tightly. Nathaniel, dressed in a pair of pants, stopped mid-step, his keen eyes flickering between me and Mark.

I gulped, pressing my hand to the knife at the back of my pants. Nathaniel's upper body looked muscled and strong. He could very easily subdue me if he wanted to.

I knew my reaction was unreasonable. Nathaniel had never done anything to warrant my fear. But I couldn't help it. Some things needed time to be overcome. A lot of time.

"What's wrong?" Nathaniel asked with a frown, taking a step closer. I took half a step back and held my hand up.

"Just open the door," I said, relieved my voice came out steady, "and put something on after, please."

Something kin to understanding crossed his eyes. He nodded and went to the front door. Seconds later, he put the pizza boxes on the island and went back to his room.

"Daphie? Is it gone?" Mark asked in a small voice. I took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. Turning, I crouched in front of Mark, placing my hands on his shoulders.

"Mark. Do you remember what I told you back in the House? About men?" I asked in a whisper.

His nod was vigorous, his eyes sharp, no doubt remembering the lesson I had drilled into him.

"If I see a man who isn't a Dispensable, I shouldn't let him see me," he recited. "If I see someone naked, I shouldn't let them see me. If they saw me and wanted to take me somewhere, I shouldn't scream. I should try and escape or find someone who will help me. And if they take me, I should use the knife."

The lesson was one I had him memorize ever since he could talk. Fortunately for Mark, the last part of my lesson had never been tested. I made sure it never came to that."

"Good boy." I smiled at him. "Now, this place isn't like the House. You know that, right?"

When he nodded, I continued, "You don't have to be afraid if you see Nathaniel half naked like that. But," I stated, cupping his little face and speaking firmly, "if someone gets naked in front of you, or if someone touches you, you have to tell me, okay? Promise. Even if it's Nathaniel."

"I promise." He looked over my shoulder and whispered, "Nathaniel isn't bad. He's not bad. That's why you didn't give me a knife here."

I sighed, not wanting to either confirm or deny his statement. Nathaniel wasn't a bad man, at least so far. But we'd barely known him for days.

Mark took a seat while I got plates and napkins and put the pizza boxes on the dining table.

Nathaniel appeared, properly dressed in pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. He sat in his usual seat at the head of the table, Mark two seats down from him. I took my chair between them.

My brother kept glancing at Nathaniel as we ate. The danger he had associated with naked men was put into question when he noticed that Nathaniel didn't even approach us. He relaxed visibly and focused on the pizza.

Nathaniel cleared his throat, putting a couple of slices on his plate. "How is the pizza, Markie?"

"Delicious," Mark replied before taking another big bite.

A relieved smile softened Nathaniel's face. He knew he'd scared Mark earlier, whether he knew the reason, or suspected something, I didn't know.

*** **** ***

Dinner was quiet and uneventful. I had spent the afternoon putting our clothes back in place, folding the laundry and preparing dinner.

Nathaniel had disappeared into his office and only emerged when dinner was ready.

Now, laying next to Mark in a bed which was no longer a temporary arrangement, I couldn't sleep.

Mark snored softly, his lips tilted up in a smile even in his sleep. I pulled the covers up to his chin. My heart squeezed at the sight. I loved him so much, I would go through hell for him.

Mark was more of a son than a brother. Our mother had given birth to him when I was around eleven years old, taking care of him was never on her list of priorities. So the role had been passed on to me, a child who wasn't really a child. With the help of Ester and some of the more responsible adults around me, I had somehow managed to take care of Mark.

My eyes watered. Thinking of Ester was never easy, but I didn't usually cry.

It must be the roller coaster of emotions I had been through today. I was exhausted, but more than that, I was relieved.

The decision I had made might or might not prove to be the best in the long run, only the future would tell. But I knew that right now, it was the best. An opportunity to start over, one I would be a fool to let pass me by.

There was one thing that still nagged at me. My earlier argument with Nathaniel.

I never felt guilty for defending myself, physically or otherwise. It had always been justified when I'd done it before.

I shouldn't feel bad. I had been simply reacting. Every word and action was justified. Right?

The heavy rock in the pit of my stomach disagreed. Remembering my altercation with him only increased the unpleasant weight.

I huffed and turned, staring at the dark corners of the room.

A hesitant knock on the door. I shot up, stuck my knife in the back of my pants, put on a cardigan over my pajama t-shirt, and cracked the door open. It was Nathaniel.

"Can we talk?" he whispered.

I nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind me. Instead of the living room, he went to the library. The fireplace crackled there, its orange glow the only light in the room. The smell of old books, coffee and firewood greeted me at the door.

Nathaniel sat on one armchair near the fireplace. Taking a seat across from him, I fiddled with the fabric of my cardigan, avoiding his eyes and the urge to apologize.

But I wasn't the only one with a tortured conscience.

"I'm sorry."

My eyes snapped up to meet his. He looked genuinely apologetic. He continued, "I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier. I shouldn't have raised my voice or talked to you that way. You're right, I don't have the right to tell you what to do. I guess I just... panicked when I found out you were leaving. And I'm sorry for using Mark against you in our argument. I just wanted something to hold you back." He sighed. "I acted selfishly."

No matter how hard I looked, his dark eyes showed nothing but sincerity. I felt like crap even more now.

"No, you were right..." I said. "Well, partially. I'm also sorry for snapping at you. And for attacking you like that, I'm just not..."

"Not a big fan of unauthorized physical contact," he said. "That's normal. I got the memo."

I sighed. "I don't think you got the memo. I'm not a fan of physical contact, period."

"Even with permission?" he asked, amusement seeping into his tone and a hint of a smile on his lips. My chest felt lighter.

I rolled my eyes. "You won't get my permission."

"Don't be so sure," he mumbled, his smile a fraction wider.

"Right back at you," I said. Nathaniel only grinned. He was enjoying the conversation way too much.

"I guess I feel at ease now that I know you can defend yourself," he suddenly said, before I could react he added, "by the way, how come your mother didn't register your birth?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "It's complicated."

"Will you ever tell me the truth?" he asked, shadow and light warring on his face. "About your past?"

"I don't know, Nathaniel," I mumbled. The flames crackled and burned, dancing to a soundless tune. "Believe me. If I could, I would have. But it's not just about me. It's much bigger than you think. That's why I'm asking you to reconsider your decision to let us stay. You might be getting into something seriously troublesome."

"You know, maybe I could help. I have my own connections, and I know some very badass people," he said playfully.

My lips twitched up. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep."

I frowned. I couldn't believe I never asked him. But I hadn't thought he would be in our lives much longer. "By the way, Nathaniel. What do you do?"

"What do I do?"

"You know, your job?"

"Oh, I... run a company."

I arched a brow. What was he hiding? "What company?"

He looked hesitant to reply, but he did. "Maxwell Group."

My eyes widened. I blinked at him. "What's your last name, Nathaniel?"

He sighed heavily. "Maxwell. It's Maxwell."

"Oh my God," I whispered, staring at Nathaniel.

Maxwell. He was the heir to the freaking Maxwell group. An international multi-billion dollar corporation, if what I used to read in the papers since my escape was to be believed.

This cannot be good...

"Come on, don't tell me you're rethinking your decision," he said with a groan as I stared aside, deep in thought.

I needed to lay low, stay out of sight, and life threw me right in the hands of one of the richest people in the country- no, in the world. My heart started racing. "The press will-"

"They're not interested in us, contrary to what you may read. We keep our private lives very private. I mean, come on, you didn't even recognize me. The press has enough drama and material to cover with Hollywood stars and rich people who enjoy the attention. We have our ways to keep them away."

I rubbed my face, taking a steadying breath. "This is not good."

Besides the press, I knew without a doubt that people from very high places used to visit the House, people who Nathaniel could very well know, or even be friends with. Okay, maybe not friends because I knew Nathaniel had enough good judgment to not associate with such people, but still, they could be in his circle.

My heart thumped, and a churning in my stomach made me swallow thickly. This was not good.

"Daphne," Nathaniel leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. "Listen, think about it this way. I have connections and enough resources to keep you and Mark safe. No one would even think about touching you as long as you're under my wing. I wasn't kidding when I said I know people who could deal with your situation, whatever it is.

"I'm not pressuring you into telling me anything, if you don't feel comfortable sharing. But I honestly believe that I can keep you safe." The intensity in his eyes took my breath away. "I would never, ever let anything or anyone harm a hair on you or your brother's head. Believe me."

I chewed on my lip, his words ringing around my head. I understood his logic. Having a powerful and influential person on my side would make us safer.

To be in a place high enough that even they couldn't catch me.

I looked into his dark eyes, so honest and kind, and decided that he deserved at least a degree of honesty from me. After all he and Claire had done for us, all they were willing to do, he deserved to know the kind of person he was helping.

"I-I..." I gulped. I ran my fingers through my hair, my hands clammy and my heart pounding. If I was to accept his help and protection, I had to tell him.

Taking a determined breath, I looked at Nathaniel and said the words.

"I was a prostitute."

--- ---- ---

Well! Did you expect that? 

Don't jump to conclusions yet. Next chapter will have more details. 

Don't forget to vote and comment! See you in a few hours!

PS: follow me on Instagram to get update alerts and sneak peeks! (username: when_mia_writes)

Much love <3 <3 <3

M.B.