Page 128 of High Reward

Grace helps me sit up, and I lean into her shoulder, pressing my face against her neck. Her arms wrap around me, solid and sure.

“I’m sorry. This is the second time I’ve broken down on you, lover,” I manage to whisper.

“Don’t.” Grace’s voice is firm. “Don’t apologize for this.”

Zara brings water and sets it nearby without crowding us. Trinity catches my eye from across the room and gives me a small nod. Understanding. She knows something about painful memories.

Samuel shifts by the door but stays where he is.

“Take all the time you need,” Zara says. “There’s no rush.”

I breathe. In and out. Grace’s hand moves in slow circles on my back. The scars on my thighs seem to radiate heat, an echo from the past. But Grace is here. Zara is here. Victor is somewhere in this city trying to figure out how to keep us all safe. And I’m not locked in that bedroom anymore.

“I didn’t expect the memories to hit me so hard. Maybe I wasn’t ready,” I say quietly.

“You’re more than ready, Goddess,” Grace says against my hair. “Not hiding from it. That’s part of the process.”

She’s right, and I hate it.

But I lean into her touch anyway, letting everything but the quiet click of Zara checking her camera settings and the steady rhythm of Grace’s heartbeat against my cheek falls away.

After a few minutes of silence, Grace hands me a robe and I wrap it around my shoulders.

“How are you?” she asks, keeping her voice low as she sits back down next to me.

“Better.” It’s true. The breakdown released something in me, and I’m left feeling lighter. “I want to keep going.”

Grace studies my face for a long moment before nodding. “OK. Zara pulled some options for the next set. I think you’ll like what she has in mind.”

She holds up several pieces of lingerie, and I gravitate toward a burgundy satin piece that would stop just at the top of my thighs.

“Good choice.” Grace grins and selects a matching garment in a champagne color for herself.

We move behind the screens to change when Trinity speaks.

“Zara, can I ask a favor?”

I peek around the screen. Trinity sits in her wheelchair, hands folded in her lap, somehow looking regal.

“What’s up?” Zara asks as she places a reflector onto the studio floor.

“Would it be possible…” Trinity pauses, and her jaw tightens. “Would I be able to take a few photos?”

Zara’s expression softens. “Of course. What did you have in mind?”

Trinity gestures toward the chaise lounge in the corner, draped in pink silk fabric. “Something elegant. Simple. I’ve been a patient in this chair for far too long. I’d like to feel like myself again.”

Grace appears beside me, still fastening the clasp on her bra, and we exchange a glance.

“Absolutely,” Zara says. “Samuel, can you help her to the chaise? I’ll adjust the lighting. If you take off your dress and bra, we can drape you in the fabric and get some really tasteful shots.”

Samuel moves immediately, crossing to Trinity’s side. He crouches beside her wheelchair, voice low.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t put much weight on my left side yet. If you support me under the arms, I can manage.”

He nods and positions himself, sliding his hands beneath her arms. Trinity grips his forearms and pushes herself up. Her face goes pale with the effort, sweat beading at her hairline. But she doesn’t make a sound.