Probably both

Probably both
However it had all come to this, he was either very wealthy or had criminal connections. Probably both. A shiver ran through my body at the thought. Maybe something was wrong with this whole family.
This room certainly lent credence to the idea that I should find out what Arthur was hiding, and after his constant mixed signals, it was best for me not to let this whole month unfold.
Except... except that something inside me wanted to stay. As if something was urging me to stay.... Or making it hard for me to leave, overriding all my common sense. Oh, shit. I'd miss him. Would he miss me after the month?
Horror expanded in my chest. I wanted to mean something to Arturo , and that was stupid, so escaping by any means was my only option before my ridiculous crush became a problem.
Because yes. I was in love. And I couldn't let it continue. So I would find out what I needed to know and pray that it would be enough to end the contract.
But I didn't ask Sebastian any more questions in case I got answers I didn't want to hear. He was right. We were still close enough to the living room to hear the music, and I relaxed a little when he motioned me into the room.
"Come look at this." He stood in front of a display case lit from within.
He held a silver comb that some aristocratic lady in Europe must have enjoyed braiding to create a sophisticated hairstyle. The comb shone under the lights, but it was so old that it was missing several prongs.
"This piece has quite a legend," said Bastian , watching me carefully. "Do you believe in fairy tales?" But his gaze remained serious, thoughtful, waiting for my answer as if it were important. "Do you want to hear one?"
I nodded, though there didn't seem to be much to say about such a fragile-looking antique. It was probably a familiar piece.
"Well... Once upon a time... " His lips curved again, that expression of his now familiar, but his gaze remained serious.
I leaned forward a little and studied the comb as he spoke.

"This is a very old hair ornament. You'll notice the inscription on the top." Bastian brushed the case with his fingers, just above the accessory, directing my attention to the piece. "La beauté est eternelle. It means beauty is eternal, and family legend has it that a witch cast a spell on the comb so that whoever wore it would remain beautiful no matter their age." She lowered her voice, taking on a seductive tone. "Queens have killed for the chance to own and use this comb."
"Killed people?", I laughed lightly. "Good thing it's just a story."
His breath brushed my neck and I froze. He hadn't been that close to me when he started talking, and I hadn't heard him move. When he breathed again, the sound was almost a low moan, a memory woke me, a sense of déjà vu. It wasn't that I had been there before with Bastian , but that someone else, someone really unwanted, had breathed against my neck.
I cleared my throat and straightened up, trying to pull away with determination and dignity, while my mind went over the possibilities. Would I still hear the music in the ballroom? Which route, among the display cases and fragile objects, would get me to the door the fastest?
But I didn't even have a chance to finish my thought or formulate a plan. As if he had sensed my thoughts, Bastian grabbed my wrist, spun me around so that I was facing him and cornered me against the wall; his movements were so fast that everything became a blur. I struggled against him, but he held my wrists tightly, with a force that hurt as my bones grinded. He leaned against me, aligning our bodies so there was no space between us as he dropped his head to the base of my throat.
"You smell wonderful," he growled as he rolled his hips against me. "How does Arthur put up with it? I was going to be nice, you know." His tone became almost pleading. "Let him have you. But I don't know if I can." He hugged me tighter.
When I froze, everything inside me paralyzed, so much so that I couldn't even breathe, Bastian pulled away just enough so he could look me in the eye.

And now Dad had handed me over to Arturo, someone much less trustworthy, it seemed. Someone who had taken me to a really dangerous place, judging by my current situation.
Beyond the three men, laughter could still be heard in the street, but I couldn't make a sound. My voice was sticking like a stone in my chest. I could barely breathe.
The leader nuzzled my neck. "Mmm... I can smell your master too." He lifted his head. "Why hasn't he claimed you yet, honey?"
OMG, the guy was high. My fear went cold. He was like a vat, obviously. There would be no way to reason with him. Shit. Maybe they all were.
One of the others laughed loudly. "Must be our lucky day, finding candy like that wandering the streets."
The third one laughed too, his nose still in my hair. "The perfect dessert. I'd die of happiness just smelling it."
I gritted my teeth. They were pissing me off. They weren't doing much more than sniffing me, but I had showered today and wasn't wearing perfume. I let out a sigh and started forward, trying to push my way past them, but the leader pushed me back, slamming me against the wooden door.
"That's not nice, dear, why are you leaving so soon? We're not finished yet. Stay and enjoy the New Orleans hospitality." He grinned mischievously as he grabbed my thigh, digging his fingers into me as if he was going to rip a chunk out of me.
I took a deep breath and his smile widened.
"Even your fear is sweet." He inhaled deeply and there was the unmistakable sound of a zipper.
"No. " I regained my voice as I tried to push my way between them again.
"Hold it " he growled, and as I watched him, his brown eyes glowed red, like two jewels glittering on his face.
I took a breath to scream, scream, scream...anything, but one of the men covered my mouth with his hand.
"Make sure I can breathe " ordered the guy with the red eyes and the hand in his pants." I prefer them conscious."