Whatever he 1s, he's crazy. But I think she might even know that better than I do, with him being her boss. I’m sure she’s aware of the minute details on Zade's operations when he extracts girls. “IT don’t think they are, but I'll look into it. Regardless, they’ve left us alone and I’m glad for it.” I nod in agreement. Can’t say I have any complaints either. Daya makes a move towards the coffee pot when she steps on the envelope I threw at her. Pausing, she picks it up off the floor and sets it down on the island. That’s when I notice that it’s an odd envelope. It’s thick as hell, as if it’s packed to the brim with papers or something. Brows dipping in confusion, I reach over and snatch up the thick paper. Noting the look on my face, Daya turns her attention back to me. “What is it?” My address is handwritten, but there’s no return address. “I don’t know,” I mutter, eyeing the envelope like it’s a bomb. I can’t explain the exact feeling, but anxiety pools in the pit of my stomach. Carefully, I peel open the flap, grab the thick stack of papers and slide them out. Except it’s not all just papers. Dozens of photographs fall out, along with a weathered note. Daya and I glance at each other, our eyes connecting with mutual confusion and trepidation. I pick up the pictures first, immediately recognizing a younger version of Gigi in them. Most of them, her smiling red lips stare back at me, the same man predominant in all the photos. “Who is that?” I mutter, not expecting any real answer at the moment. I don’t recognize the man. He’s not pictured in any of the photographs that were hanging on the wall when I moved in. Once I renovated the house, I decided to take them all down. I had decided that they’d judged me enough after the Greyson debacle. Zade fucked me in that hallway last night—that’s as far as we made it before he pinned me up against the wall and took me from behind. When Zade and I had left the bedroom this morning, we had both discovered I had gouged nail marks into the paint. It was my only anchor with his hand firmly gripping my hair, bowing my body back, and using it as a rope as he fucked me into oblivion. I had collapsed after that orgasm, and he was forced to fuck me on the rug, right smack in the middle of the hallway. I'll never look at that spot on the rug or the wall the same.