A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 165

he knew all too well: when you’re asking for help, you need to play the part. You need to offer something the other person actually wants.

Carmela was desperate for her to keep the divorce a secret, so that was easy–she could promise Carmela to keep quiet for as long as she

wanted.

As for Frank, his heart was never really in their sham of a marriage. She could cooperate, let him sneak around with Marcia without a fuss, give

him all the freedom he craved.

But Rowan…

Rowan was a different story.

She’d thought about this for a long time before coming here. In the end, the only thing she had left to gamble with was herself.

She was betting–betting that Rowan’s attitude that night at the professor’s birthday wasn’t just her own wishful thinking. Betting that this young prince, who’d once whimsically “adopted” her as a little sister for nine years, had suddenly become interested in her in a way a man is interested in a woman.

Or, to put it bluntly, in a way that was purely physical.

She’d already had to fight tooth and nail just to marry Frank; she never deluded herself into thinking she could be Rowan’s legitimate partner.

So, the moment she saw the flicker of surprise on his face, she lowered her eyes and spoke softly, obediently, “Rowan, I could be your lover. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Just… please, help Tanya Foster. Please.”

She didn’t even dare to look at his expression.

In those few seconds of silence, her heart was about to pound out of her chest, her fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

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Chapter 165

If she’d bet wrong, there was no telling how cruel Rowan’s mockery might

1. be.

He could sneer that she was a frog trying to eat swan meat.

Or, with that superior, icy tone, ask her: What on earth made you think I’d ever be interested in someone like you?

But Tanya Foster was in trouble because of her–if she had to endure a little humiliation, so be it.

If she lost this gamble, she’d accept her fate.

Rowan’s gaze drifted downward, taking in her shaking hands and bare feet. His brows furrowed, just for a moment, almost imperceptibly. “Come in.”

With that, he opened the shoe cabinet, pulled out a brand–new pair of women’s slippers, and tossed them onto the floor.

Elissa hesitated, unsure of what he meant, until his cold, brisk voice rang out again. “Go wash your feet.”

“…Alright.”

She almost forgot–he was a neat freak.

Her feet had just come straight from the elevator. Of course he couldn’t tolerate her bringing dirt into his immaculate home.

She bent down, slipped on the slippers, and stepped inside, careful not to let her dirty feet touch a single inch of his spotless floor.

The layout was the same as hers.

She walked straight to the guest bathroom, turned on the shower, and didn’t even wait for the water to warm up before dutifully washing her feet.

The sound of running water filled the quiet. The frosted glass door creaked open.

She’d just finished, setting the showerhead aside, when she looked up at

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him, nervous and uncertain. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally asked, “Can you really help Tanya Foster?”

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