I had always treated my workers well. It was one of the most important things to me. My company was my baby and it would not succeed if everyone who worked for me treated it as a nine-to-five. Each one of my employees needed to be treated with respect and given as much consideration as possible to they could be a part of the well-oiled machine that was my team.

I remembered my first job when I have moved to Canada vividly. I had worked at a big box store. Sophie had helped me as much as she could, but I knew she couldn't support me forever so I applied everywhere, but with no work record it was nearly impossible to get hired anywhere else. Customers were rude and snotty to me. My managers had been unable to perform their jobs properly or had simply chosen not to. My feet ached from standing on hard cement all day and I went home hating myself for continuing to go back, but knowing I had no choice.

Now, two months after I had made it to Glasgow, I felt very similar to how I had all those years ago.

True, the customers at the bookstores were usually much better, but the arrogant adults were much more stuck up than anyone who bought bargain socks could ever be. I spent a lot of time on my knees, stocking shelves full of books, which made my back and joints ache at the end of the day. My manager was a book fanatic to an extreme, though one of the kindest men I had ever met. It was hard to ask him a book related question without allowing him to go off on tangents that could carry on for hours. At least at this job I was paid a little better, I wasn't working for a massive chain that controlled half of America, and I smelt like old books instead of feet and sweat.

Still, that didn't stop me from being sore, achy and completely cranky by the middle of my shift. When I took my break I curled up on the small, worn out couch that was surrounded by unorganized stock I knew that sleep would be inevitable but I fought it anyway. I didn't want to fall asleep at work, but I was so exhausted. Between the long shifts and the sleepless nights the bags under my eyes didn't even begin to speak to my tiredness. I didn't last more than five minutes before a horrendous nightmare captured me.

I couldn't breathe.

I could feel my face turning a disgusting shade of red, shifting towards blue from the lack of oxygen. My feet weren't able to touch the floor, no matter how much I kicked and struggled. He was alarmingly strong, holding me up by my throat with ease. My eyes were watering madly as my lungs screamed inside me, desperate for air, but hand stayed tight around my neck, preventing me from inhaling at all. I felt my mouth attempting to suck in gasps but no air entered my deprived system. I could feel weakness flooding through my body, my struggles becoming less effective and my vision started to blur and blotch. I knew that I would lose consciousness soon and eventually, my heart would stop being and my brain would stop functioning.

My eyes drifted shut.

I knew that Josh uttered something, but I couldn't make out what he said. It didn't matter anyway. I wouldn't be here much longer.

When my eyes opened again I was stunned, then terrified. Was I dead? Had my fiancé actually done it? Had he finally snapped and killed me in my own home? Was I in heaven now? My throat was aching painfully and my head was pounding, people didn't feel pain in heaven, did they? Perhaps I was in hell then?

But my vision finally came back, bit by bit and I was able to see that I was not in heaven. I was in my bedroom, splayed out on the thick, white shag carpet. I had always hated that carpet, it was just asking for stains. For a moment I didn't understand why my nearly naked body was splayed out on the floor like I was trash that had been tossed aside. What I somehow managed to fall asleep on the floor?

Then it all started to come back to me.

This morning I hadn't been brave enough to deny Josh his wishes of seeing me in the expensive lingerie he picked out. I wore it every day for the past week and it had started to make my skin irritated and my back ached from the lack of support in the flimsy bras. But I was too frightened to say no so I wore the lace and satin under my designer clothes. After three months of being engaged I had realized just how terrifying Josh was. He controlled my every movement, from what I wore to who I spent my time with and how often I could leave the apartment. I was stuck in the most glamorous prison, but my captor was more violent than a rogue prison guard. He had put his hands on me several times already and I didn't want to give him another reason to punish me. So when he came home with a slight air of frustration surrounding him I immediately complied when he ordered me to go to our bedroom and strip down to my underwear.

It made me feel filthy when he made me cook and clean for him while being nearly naked, but I did it anyway. Listening was much easier than fighting. He was so much stronger than I was. He always managed to move so quickly. Every time we had an altercation he would have me on the ground gasping for breath from a hard blow to my face or my gut or I would be clawing at his hands that were closing around my throat. I never had a chance to fight back or to even prepare myself for the blows.

But tonight, when he had demanded sex I had been appalled and worried.

Yes, we were engaged, and yes, we had been intimate before. But this was far beyond that. I couldn't be ordered to sleep with someone I didn't love. Every time we had sex it was infinitely clear that it was for his pleasure only. I was not to make any sounds, not to cry out when he struck me or thrust too hard when I wasn't prepared. And he told me exactly what I needed to do, like I was so perfectly trained pet that's only purpose was to respond to his every wish.

I denied him tonight, not wanting to be used and abused.

And he had responded by closing my airways until I lost consciousness.

"Are you going to get up?" Josh's voice startled me.

I jerked my body upright so I was in a sitting position, trying to brace for one hell of a fight. But my fiancé was sitting calmly on our massive bed, watching me with those intent blue eyes. His head was cocked to the side, like he thought my actions were cute and amusing and a tiny smile was on his lips.

I couldn't understand how he could be smiling or so calm when my neck was throbbing and my head was pounding. I desperately wanted to scramble to my feet and bolt for the front door, running until I found someone who could help me.

But who could help me? Who would believe me against this man who worked for the government, this man that the public absolutely adored? And even if I found someone who could help me, how would they? And what would Josh do to me when I was back in his clutches? Would I ever see the light of day again?

"Are you ready to behave?" he asked coolly.

I could only nod mutely.

"Good girl. I want you to crawl towards me on your hands and knees like the bitch you are." He hissed out, already undoing his belt.

I woke up with a start, feeling repulsed and weak. I wanted to sob until my heart felt cleansed in my chest and I was dizzy with dehydration. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to run and run until I couldn't run anymore and I vomited. I wanted to scream so loud that someone would call the police. I just wanted to do something that would stop me from feeling the emotions that were racing through my veins, the emotions I had suppressed for as long as I could. But all I could do was stand up, leaving an awkwardly shaped indent on the couch, and shuffle around the piles of books, getting back to work to keep myself distracted as my hands trembled at my sides.

The rest of my shift was unfortunately uneventful. I would've actually appreciated a customer who could only remember a book based on the cover photo or someone who needed a peculiar book that no one else carried. Then I could've spent my time talking to other human beings, digging through shelf after shelf, on a mission or ringing customer after customer through the till until the prices were ingrained in my memory. But instead, I placed books on the shelves in accordance to the last name of the author as my mind replayed the dream over and over in my mind.

When my shift ended and the store was closed up for the night I didn't even want to go home. I had felt unsafe with a dozen people milling around me quietly. I couldn't imagine how much my skin would crawl when I returned to my quiet apartment, left with nothing but my dreaded thoughts. I didn't have much of a choice though. It was late, few places were open and the places that stayed open this late involved things I wasn't particularly enthused about. I had zero desire to get drunk and dismissing equally intoxicated males when they attempted to flirt with me. Plus, the later I made my journey home the darker it would be and the fewer people there would be out. At least now, the subway was packed. Though it was tedious, it made me feel very safe. Not even Josh would be brave enough to attack me in front of all these by standers. Even my short walk the rest of the way was well populated and I made it back to my apartment in no time.

I hesitated just outside, still thinking about that ugly occurrence and how I had so weakly bowed down to his every command. I took a deep breath and told myself that I was not going into the pent house apartment. My neighbors, the same people who smiled at me every morning, would hear my screams if anything did happen. Someone would care enough to make sure I was okay. And Josh couldn't find me here. Not yet. I have covered up every single one of my own tracks. At this point I was nearly impossible to follow. The only person who knew where I was and who I was residing was Sophie.

With the reassuring mindset I unlocked my door and stepped inside my dark apartment.

The door shut softly behind me, closing off the entry way in complete blackness and my hand patted the wall, searching for the light switch I was not yet accustomed to.

The sound of soft and slow movement made me freeze.

A deep male voice shattered the stillness in the apartment.

"Welcome home, Camila."

****Any guesses on who has found her?****