Chapter 16
Sixteen
Harper
The examination by that atrocious doctor makes me shudder.
Thankfully, it’s over, and the moment he stalks out of the room, Livia returns.
“Just great,” I mutter. If it’s not one hell, it’s another.
She tosses me a pair of gray, scratchy sweats and a matching shirt. It feels like prison clothes.
“Put these on.”
I do as she commands, only because I’m naked and I don’t want to be paraded around and humiliated.
“Congratulations are in order,” Livia says, smirking as she watches me dress.
The moment my clothes are donned, she grabs my arm and escorts me through the halls.
I only give her a look of confusion because I don’t know what she’s congratulating me on. I’m not actually pregnant.
I can’t be.
I mean, I don’t think it’s possible—but I haven’t had my friend come to visit yet this month.
My mind ticks over the days of the month, trying to remember when my last period was.
Oh fuck.
“You’re pregnant. We ran a quick test; turns out you weren’t lying. Imagine my surprise and delight. While I’d usually put the newborn on the open market when they’re born, your little one is extra special to me.”
The nausea falls over me like waves crashing toward the shoreline. Sweat trickles my brow, and I stumble slightly.
Livia is right at my side, her hand on my arm, dragging me along with her. “The little one you’re carrying has DeLuca bloodlines. Seeing as how you murdered my husband, you owe me that child.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I snarl at her.
“You do, but we have time for that—you’re only a few weeks pregnant.”
There’s no way she’s taking my baby. She’s fucking crazy.
“Now, now, don’t be so upset. It’ll be our little secret for tonight.”
She winks at me, and I taste bile in my mouth, swallowing my disgust.
“Come, let me take you to the others.”
While I haven’t seen too many guards when entering the mansion, there are many more up ahead. She leads me farther inside the mansion, toward a set of wrought iron doors on the first floor, intricate and locked.
The guard nearest the door unlocks the gate entrance, and Livia gestures for me to enter.
A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I press my lips together, hiding the discomfort. The last thing I want is to appear weak to the monster keeping me locked up.
Regret fills me. I should have fought harder against that stupid doctor or Livia upstairs, when there weren’t other guards around. I may have been able to escape.
Once I step past those locked gates, there’s no exiting on my own.
“Walk!” Livia commands and reaches into her pocket for that stupid remote control to torture me.
I step forward, if only because I’d rather be trapped than experience another jolt of electricity around my neck.
That’s the reason I can’t fight.
Every time I attempt to challenge Livia or anyone of power here, I’m subdued. And the pain is atrocious, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
My breathing is shallow and my heart quickens as she brushes past me, leading me down the hallway.
From behind, I hear the firm metal clasp of the gate.
Whatever awaits me is sure to be the depths of hell.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, obediently following her farther inside. There are guards in the hallway, men armed with guns and daggers attached to their clothes. Of the five guards I count, only the ones on the other side of the gate are wearing protective armor.
These men are in shirts and pants, armed for a war with whom exactly?
Livia opens the door to the left and nods for me to enter. “Go.” She shoves me when I don’t move quickly enough.
The room is dimly lit, the floor a cold marble with an oversized area rug in the center.
She slams the door shut behind me and I glance at the other young women my ages or even possibly younger.
I inhale sharply, my hands in front of me, wringing them together. Anxiety pricks at my skin, my stomach heavy like lead.
A girl, maybe all of fourteen or fifteen, hurries over to me now that I’m locked inside.
“I’m Margaret.”
“Harper.” I give her my name and she takes my arm, leading me toward where with the other girls are sitting on the floor.
There’s a bench along the wall and a handful of blankets shoved into makeshift beds.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, my voice quiet, afraid that the guards or Livia might barge in on a whim.
There are two cameras in the room, the obnoxious red light indicating that we’re being watched.
“I’m not sure. Months,” she says. “It gets easier.” She leads me to sit on one of the blankets.
“I don’t plan on sticking around for long,” I say.
Margaret takes a seat on the blanket, her legs at her side, waiting for me to join her.
My gaze peruses the room. There are no windows, only one door in which I entered. There are multiple guards out in the hallway and a locked gate that we’ll have to get through in order to escape.
It won’t be easy.
Damn near impossible.
My silence has her staring at me.
“Yeah, I thought the same thing. But every time you fight—” She taps the collar around her neck, the same one that is fastened and jolted electricity through me.
I glance at her bright round eyes. They’re nearly steel-colored, and her skin pale and freckled. Her hair a mess of red curls, tangled and unkempt.
“Has no one escaped?” I ask, chancing a glance at the cameras.
“Don’t worry, no audio.” She pats the blanket for me to sit.
I oblige if only to appease her, desperate for answers.
Margaret leans closer, whispering to me, “Some of the girls leave, but they always come back.”
“How long?”
I ask, assuming she means the time spent with a buyer, perhaps a couple of hours. Has no one tried escaping then?
“They keep us here for us to breed. We’ll be auctioned off for an hour or two, forced to do whatever the buyer desires.
The highest bidder is always first. They tend to sneak in alcohol, pills, a way to help us relax.
We are shuffled from one buyer to the next until the early hours of the night,” she whispers.
“Then we’re thrown back in here with the other girls until the next auction. ”
My mouth goes dry and I wipe my sweaty hands on my black pants. I want Margaret to be wrong, mistaken. But the look in her eyes, she’s not lying to me. There’s no reason for her to trick me.
“No.” I shake my head, denial the only way through this horror.
“The way out is pregnant, but it’s only temporary.”
The air is knocked right there out of my lungs, and my fingers grip the bedsheets. The room spins and I shut my eyes, pushing away the creeping anxiety. It’s loud enough that I swear the sound of my heartbeat can be heard for miles.
“Rumor has it the Madam makes most of her money when those of us fall pregnant, auctioning off newborns like cattle. She moves any pregnant girls out of here, gives better accommodations until after the birth.”
I’m going to be sick. My head falls between my legs, gasping for breath.
She rests a comforting hand on my back. “It sounds awful, but most of the men are quick.”