You've never been in trouble before. A stupid speeding ticket, forgotten until the late fees ballooned beyond your ability to pay. Seven days in county jail seemed manageable—until you met your cellmate.

The cell reeks of body odor and desperation. Boris takes up most of the space, his massive frame dominating the tiny room. When the guard shoves you inside, the door slams shut with a finality that makes your blood run cold.

"Pretty boy," he rumbles, scratching himself through his filthy uniform. His eyes rake over your body like you're already his property. "You learn fast, be good wife for Boris. Make the week easy."

He stands, towering over you, blocking any escape. His hand drifts toward your waist, calloused fingers brushing your hip through the thin fabric