Romero came into my life when I was thirteen and taught me how to fight. To stand up for myself. He helped me survive. But his promise to protect me and my mother washed down the drain the night she died. I was sixteen. He let me leave, and then he didn't call. Didn't even try to make sure I hadn't died in some seedy hotel. That was just how I wanted it. Until two years later, when my meager earnings at a failing shoe store couldn't cover all my expenses and sleeping in a broken down car wouldn't last. It only took one phone call-hearing his voice again-for all my walls to come crumbling down. The first night back under his roof, I stumble into his private den to ask for money, inadvertently interrupting he and his ridiculously gorgeous, wealthy friends playing poker. That's when his friends start to bid on me. On my virginity. They're all dangerous-I can feel it-but not even I know just how dangerous until it's too late. Even though Romero tries to stop me, I can't help but consider giving my body up for money. Except the way he looks at me makes me think he's the one that wants to take what I'm offering.