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I had nothing my whole life. This place was everything—home, safety, security and warmth. It was all I ever wanted in my life. It doesn't deserve to be neglected like this. These walls deserve care.

Alexi just stands there, infuriatingly quiet, watching me, and I am not sure he even heard me. He just stares as I cry softly and stare at the mirror as though I can will it back into one piece. I am in so much internal pain and distress.

'Alexi!' I yell at him, bringing myself back to tear my gaze away from the ruins. Frustrated and slamming the boudoir door behind me to close out the stench which is still wafting our way. I have no desire to check the others, and wipe a tear from my cheek that is rolling over my skin.

She has destroyed my home. I won't leave it like this, in the hands of some inadequate hoe bag. I won't walk away and let it crumble into disrepair. I can practically hear its walls crying out for me to come save it. He offered this to me ... he offered a real piece of owning it. It's not just 'come back and be my servant' ... he offered me a real chance at ownership and being important in this place.

My brain is in chaos, torn between my heart and my head, and I know it's stupid to be impulsive when I am feeling this way. I should leave and really consider his offer and what that means for my future.

'Twenty-five percent.' It's all he says, eyes on me, completely serious and I blink at him, sniffing back the upset and my flu, eyes from him to the bar and back again as my brain tries to push away the emotional irrational fog that is clouding logic.

I know I'm tired, sick, upset and I should walk away. It's like I am glued to the spot and some weird dormant maternal instinct for my baby is refusing to back down.

He has seen the weakness and is playing hard ball while he has an opening. I know this and I should shoot him down. Forever the clever negotiator going in for a kill with something he knows will work. I've exposed a weakness and he intends to utilise it. I may as well use the upper hand if he really wants me back.

'Eighty percent? It's more mine than it has ever been yours. I want IT ... not a connection to you.' My brain is a whirring mass of clicks and spins as I try to pull it together and think about what I am agreeing to here. Voice raspy with feeling, he is seeing the Achilles Heel and diving right in. Master manipulator won't miss out on my moment of low.

I'm too emotionally connected to this place, too close and it's clouding my judgement. I should walk out and get some space and perspective to think about this, but my mouth and brain are not working as one. My heart is pounding like crazy.

'Fifty ... Equal shares. A partnership on paper but I will stay out of the running. I will make sure this club is worth your efforts and abide by your boundaries.' He isn't moving, isn't breaking a sweat the way I am and I can't just put it on being unwell. I know I am digging my own grave by even thinking about this but what do I have out there ... Nothing; a shitty dead-end hole to walk home to, no job and no money—A constant threat of danger and hiding endlessly from old enemies. My life is pitiful and has been since I left here. I couldn't sink any lower if I tried.

I was always safe here with him—even when he was making me lose my mind—he protected me, took care of me, even while torturing me.

Maybe with boundaries ...?

'And the apartment above as part of the deal.' It's out, even as my own head is trying to shake sense into me, reminding me that this club comes with a connection to him, always! I am too enraged at seeing it for myself. What she has done to my baby. Doubts and excuses and real hesitation as I try to argue with myself internally, but it's falling by the wayside behind my impulsive stubborn brain.

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