Chapter Six
………………………….
Ily
I SPENT THE DAY STARING OUT the window.
I’d traded company in the dark for aloneness in the light, and the only thing keeping me sane was the sunshine. It became my only friend as it crept across the horizon, casting shadows on the animal-shaped hedges below, illuminating Masters tormenting their jewels in the garden.
From my height in the castle, I spied new jewels and old. I witnessed poor Mollie being raped by Roland by the fountain. His pudgy mass crushed hers into the granite of the water feature, his hand on the back of her head pushing her underwater with every thrust.
I spied a few new jewels being electrocuted for not obeying their Master’s whims fast enough, and Kirk refusing to do a damn thing his current ruler requested. No matter how hard the bastard beat him, the jewel who’d watched Suri—the girl he was in love with—shot to death during Emerald Bruises just took it.
He looked as if he wanted to die. As if he gave the Master permission to end him with every strike.
Peter had warned us that Kirk had given up.
It looked as if he was right.
Tears rolled silently down my cheeks as afternoon turned to dusk, and the fairy lights flickered on in the flowers. The battlement walls lit up with purple, gold, and blue spotlights. The pond-shaped swimming pool where Henri liked to write gleamed with the final shards of orange and red from the sun before night fell completely.
And still no one came for me.
I’d tried to leave.
I’d tried banging on the walls in case Henri or Peter could hear me.
But locks and guards and heavy stone bricks kept me trapped.
Rubbing my empty, snarling stomach, I hunched where I sat on the window seat. I’d wrapped myself up in the white blanket from the bed, warm for the first time in weeks, but the constant gnawing in my middle wouldn’t leave me alone.
Judging by how insistently my body demanded food, it’d been over twenty-four hours since our last rations. And our rations could hardly be called food. Our diet in the dungeon had consisted of stale bread, tough meat, and a few overly cooked vegetables if we were lucky.
No matter how incredible the hot shower had been or the full hour I’d spent sitting beneath its warm rain, I would’ve traded that luxury for a decent meal.
Dirt and filth robbed every drop of self-worth, but hunger? God, that had the capacity to steal every ounce of willpower. If Victor starved us for much longer, I truly didn’t know how far we’d go or what we’d put up with if it promised an end to the pain in our bellies.
Strings of soft music wriggled their way through the windowpanes as stars pricked the velvet sky above. The sounds of masculine laughter down in the gardens as men gathered on the deck and smoked and drank hinted May and the cooks in the kitchen would be hard at work making dinner for everyone. Faiza and her cleaners would’ve had a busy day tending to the many chambers, and the gardeners, handymen, and other staff would’ve endured yet another day of no freedom.
I sighed and rested my head on the cool glass.
Five months ago, I’d arrived with such na?ve beliefs that I could free the poor men and women imprisoned here. I clung with such conviction to the power of right over wrong.
Yet sitting there in silence, a little whisper in my weary heart said perhaps this tale didn’t have a happy ending after all. Maybe we would never get free. Perhaps Victor would break Henri, which, in turn, would break me. We’d both die a painful death, and Peter and the jewels would remain forever trapped.
They’d go on serving until they ended up on the altar and their pieces sold to the highest bidder. No one would know that this island or these monsters existed. The world would continue spinning. People would continue bickering and moaning, catching public transport, and snuggling on the couch after work. All while hell existed for those unlucky enough to have been trafficked into it.
Stop.
Just…stop.
These thoughts aren’t helping.
You will get out.
Don’t lose hope…not yet.
Peter’s voice echoed in my ears from when I’d watched the guards strap Henri onto the altar in the Temple of Facets.
“Not yet, jaanu…not yet.”
I still didn’t know what he meant or when not yet would be.
But… not yet.
I wouldn’t give up.
Not yet.
A particularly bright star glimmered above, twinkling in its freedom. It looked like one of the stars I regularly visited in my meditations.
I found comfort in its brightness.
A tiny pinprick of light in a cloak of black.
All it took was one.
Just a single dot of light to break the oppressiveness of the night.
Pressing my fingertips to the glass, I stared at that glittering diamond in the sky and made a wish like I used to when I was a child.
I closed my eyes.
I found that centre of calm and begged someone to hear me.
“Please…come for us. We can’t do this on our own. We tried. We failed. If you’re out there…please hurry—”
The door swung wide, cutting off my prayer and wrenching my eyes open.
“Time to go, little jewel.” The guard who’d shoved me into the bedroom waved his arm toward the corridor. “Quickly now.”
I’d contemplated asking him if he was one of Stewart and Ben’s friends. I’d stared into his eyes, doing my best to see if he played two roles. But I hadn’t dared ask. Not because he might tattle on me but because the cameras certainly would.
If he was on our side, it didn’t matter.
There weren’t enough on our side, and as long as it remained an unwinnable fight, no one would stand up against Victor because everyone had seen what happened to Henri.
A Master turned slave.
Yet another jewel at the whim of Victor’s monstrous mercy.
“Get. Now .” The guard snapped his fingers, his brown hair spiked with gel.
Standing on hunger-shaky legs, I left my blanket behind and padded barefoot toward him. I’d found a single piece of clothing on the bed after my shower and chose to wear it instead of letting pride keep me bare.
The guard’s dark gaze raked over me. He grinned. “That colour suits you.”
Smoothing down the tightest, slinkiest silver teddy, I held my chin high even as my nipples pebbled the satin and cool air licked between my naked legs.
Victor had dressed me in silver.
Dressed me like the star I’d just wished upon.
It was up to me to continue glowing…for just a little longer.
* * * * *
I tripped as the guard marched me into the ballroom.
I would’ve fallen flat on my face if he hadn’t grabbed my elbow and kept me standing. “This way,” he muttered.
My heart switched from skittering with weakness to galloping with fear.
Henri.
God…no.
I struggled as the guard yanked me toward the stage where Peter already stood in fresh linen trousers. His ribs cut into his now clean chest, his hands balled at his sides, his golden collar leashed to the podium.
He gave me a sad shake of his head as the guard secured my collar to a matching cord, tethering me to the other corner of the stage. All around us, Masters chuckled and sipped expensive drinks. Jewels kneeled on the dance floor and the energy of terror and indulgence wafted thicker than the scents of butter and tarragon.
But I only had eyes for Henri.
He stood in the centre of the stage, shackled to a maypole like the one where he’d taken me the first time after he bid and won Victor’s twisted auction. His cuffed wrists locked above his head, his neck held in place by a chain hooked to his collar, his bare body so lean and bruised, so stretched and on display.
Tears strangled my throat, but I refused to let them fall.
Our eyes met.
He gave me a smile as if nothing was wrong. As if he was dressed in a fine suit and sitting down with the other men instead of spread and bound for their pleasure.
Don’t watch . He narrowed his eyes. Promise me.
I’m with you . I shook my head. I’m not going anywhere.
He sighed and dropped his chin.
The huge bruise on his side glowed a burgundy red beneath the spotlights on the stage. His cock flaccid and far too vulnerable as Masters leaned back and remarked on the delicious dinner being placed in front of them by waitstaff.
Victor chuckled as I found him in the crowd. Sitting at the table closest to the stage, he raised his tumbler of liquor in my direction. “Good evening, Ilyana. I trust you had a relaxing afternoon? I must say, that lingerie certainly shows off your curves.” His nose wrinkled. “Unfortunately, those curves have shrunk since the last time you were in this ballroom but…no matter.”
Passing Rachel a plate delivered by a downcast serving girl, he smirked. “Rachel, on the other hand, is rounding out quite nicely. Don’t you agree?” He stroked her growing belly with a doting look in his blue eyes. “See how well I look after those who please me, sweetling?”
I wanted so much to spit at him. Curse him. Scream at him.
But…with Henri strapped on the pole, I wouldn’t give Victor any reason to snap. If he hurt Henri because I opened my stupid mouth…I’d never forgive myself.
Victor huffed as if annoyed at my silence.
Rachel gave me a tragic look. She opened her lips as if she wanted to say something, but I widened my eyes and shook my head.
Sighing heavily, she dropped her gaze to her food and picked reluctantly at a perfectly cooked chicken breast.
I almost keeled over with starvation. My mouth flooded with saliva. Every cell in my body demanded to be fed.
The discomfort was so crippling, I almost moaned.
Tearing my eyes away, I focused on everything but the Masters tucking into their dinners and the lucky jewels accepting tidbits off their owners’ fingers.
Classical music kept playing.
The night remained sedate and serene.
No one came to torment us. No one tortured Henri.
I glanced at Peter. What’s going on?
I didn’t know if he’d get my silent message, but he shrugged.
I sensed his confusion. I shivered as we both stood there in chains, forming a triangle with Henri at the top, bound on the stage.
For over two hours, we stood there like unseen pets.
No one fed us. No one talked to us.
Victor laughed often, Rachel kept giving us horrified glances, and the only ones who paid any attention to us were the other kneeling jewels. Their matching worry built and built until the sense of anticipation scratched down my spine with poisonous claws.
By the time dessert was served and my stomach had twisted itself into a hundred empty agonising knots, my system threatened to faint from exhaustion.
Victor finished his raspberry crumble and wiped his mouth daintily with his napkin.
Standing and resting his hand on Rachel’s thick dark hair, he said, “Gentlemen. Friends. I’m sure you’re aware there hasn’t been a show tonight.”
“Is Henri starring in a new porno, Vic? Who gets to bugger him first?”
Victor grinned. “Why? Would you pay to pop his cherry, Mark?”
“I’ll pay.” Roland stood up. “I’ll pay to have an hour alone with him. With the proviso I don’t have to give him back breathing.”
“You know, I might take you up on that offer one day, Roland.” Victor smirked.
“Is he fair game, Vic?” a Master I didn’t know piped up. “He’s a jewel, after all.”
“Thank you for giving me an opportunity to explain Henri’s new position, Jon.” Victor bent and kissed Rachel’s forehead before striding from the table and leaping onto the stage.
Henri stiffened.
The chains holding him jingled a little as he stood taller. His hollow belly flexed as his ribs expanded with heavy breaths.
Victor smiled and cupped Henri’s cheek. “No need to be afraid, my sweetling.”
“You’re the one who will be afraid, Vic.” Henri bared his teeth. “One day, it will be you in motherfucking chains.”
Victor laughed and patted him gently. “Such a comedian.”
“So?” a Master called from the back. “Do we get a try or not? How about we all break him in for you? All of us. Right here. Right now.”
“I’ve got lube!” Another Master snickered, tossing a bottle of KY onto his empty dessert plate. “I’m happy to break him for you, Victor!”
Victor slung an arm around Henri’s trim waist, looking out at the crowd. “I had no idea so many of you would suddenly want a belligerent man in your bed instead of a pretty obedient jewel.”
“It’s not about the sex,” Ian muttered with a sly grin. “It’s the fact that he used to be one of us. We all have someone in our lives who fucked us off and we couldn’t do a damn thing about it. An old boss. An idiotic father-in-law. Even an old friend who betrayed us at some point.”
Pointing at Henri, Ian added, “He represents all those cocksuckers we couldn’t touch. I don’t want to fuck him for pleasure. I want to fuck him to make him pay.”
My heart stopped as every Master turned into an animal.
Henri had stabbed quite a few. I’d seen a couple on the floor of the cave and hoped he’d killed them. But he hadn’t stopped the rest of these sadistic psychopaths from wanting to tear him into pieces.
Victor snickered. “I’m excited to see how you make him pay, my friends. But…seeing as he tried to kill me first and shoved my hospitality rather rudely in my face, I think I deserve first retribution, no?”
“Fine.” A splattering of grumbles. “What’s your first task for him, then?”
“Well…” Victor let Henri go with a conniving smile. “We all know the levels of ownership. Henri wasn’t interested in extracting them from Ilyana. But I’m looking forward to extracting them from him. Tell me, where should I start with Henri’s training?”
“Just skip straight to owning his soul, Vic. Fuck the rest.”
“Unfortunately, that will not work for him.” Victor smiled. “He’s stubborn, you see. I’ve had the enjoyment of getting to know him quite well, and I’m afraid there’ll be no cutting corners if we wish to break him into a well-behaved jewel.”
“I will never be what you want me to be, Vic. I will never give you what you want. You’ll have to kill me—”
“See? Now that just pisses me off,” Victor snapped. “Do you truly wish to die, mon ami ?” Victor spun on him. “Are you that weak? Tell me truthfully. If I shot you right here, right now. If I put you out of all the misery in your future, would you take it? Knowing full well that the moment I tossed your body into the sea, I’d do everything I’m going to do to you to Ilyana?”
Henri shuddered.
Fresh grief rolled down my cheeks. Peter gave me a heartbreaking look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from Henri’s.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t want to be in pain. But I couldn’t watch Henri be tortured. I wouldn’t survive watching a loved one be brutalised and beaten.
Maybe the Vedic astrologer was right all along.
Perhaps this was how we would destroy each other.
By loving each other so much yet being utterly helpless to protect.
My heart shattered into teeny tiny pieces as Henri’s lips quirked into a sexy half smile. Instead of submitting to Victor and accepting his new place as his prisoner, he stood so regally, so resolutely, I fell in love all over again.
“Do whatever you want to me, Vic. Play your games. Break my bones. Make me scream. I don’t care.” His gaze left mine and narrowed on Victor. “But I suggest you keep record of every lash you give me, every droplet of blood you claim, because one day I’ll do the same to you.”
A few Masters laughed.
Victor glowered. “I knew you’d be proud, my pet. But I didn’t know you’d be stupid.” Crossing his arms, he backed up. “I had planned on giving you a choice tonight. A choice of obeying me without question. If you had, I would’ve fed Ilyana your reward. I would’ve ensured she went to bed—a warm comfy bed—with a full belly. You would’ve been in pain but at least you would’ve been content knowing you provided for her.”
Henri shot me a glance. His nostrils flared. “Feed her and Peter, promise me they won’t be touched, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Nope. Not tonight. You no longer get a choice.” Victor snapped his fingers. “Blind him. Gag him. Deafen him. Let’s see how he behaves after a night of no senses.”
A guard stepped forward with a black bag dangling in his hands. Marching up the stage steps, he clamped a pair of noise cancelling headphones over Henri’s ears, shoved a ball gag between his teeth and buckled it into place, then wrenched a black hood over Henri’s head.
The last thing I saw was a flash of panic in his gorgeous grey eyes before the hood hung down to his shoulders, and Victor swept out of the ballroom in a huff.
* * * * *
That night was the longest of my life.
The Masters left with their jewels. Dirty dishes were cleared away. The lights were turned off. And the sliding doors were left wide open, allowing an icy breeze to kick through the tablecloths and soak into our frozen limbs.
One a.m., two a.m., three…
No one came to unchain us.
No one offered us food or comfort.
Peter shifted from standing to sitting to lying on the wooden floor.
I followed.
I huddled in a tiny silver-clad ball, shuddering and twitching with bone-deep cold.
My teeth chattered, and I longed for the dirty, scratchy blanket from the dungeon. At least down there, we had each other. We had facilities when our bladders grew too full and a sense of safety when panic became too thick.
Somehow, the richly decorated ballroom became an even worse cell than the dew-dripping, rat-infested caves below.
We didn’t talk.
What could we say?
Henri couldn’t hear us.
He couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t see.
By four a.m., I tripped in and out of desperate, despairing sleep. I woke to a slicing pain deep in my middle from hunger or horror—I could no longer tell the difference.
I glanced at Henri.
His knees had buckled, his arms stretched high and holding him upright.
I hoped he slept.
I hoped he’d passed out from the pain and claustrophobia of being so shackled.
A trickle of saliva ran down his naked chest, catching the moonlight outside. I cried myself back to sleep, imagining the agony of his jaw with the ball gag locked between his teeth. The way he wouldn’t be able to stop drooling. The absolute panic he must feel being so vulnerable and bound while blindfolded, gagged, and deafened.
I’m here. I opened my heart and sent him all the love I had left . I’m here. You’re not alone.
He groaned and sagged against the pole.
Peter shivered quietly in the dark.
And I begged the sun to rise before we froze.
* * * * *
“Did you piss on my floor, Paavak ?”
I shot awake just as Victor kicked Peter across the room.
He grunted as Victor’s loafer caught him in the side.
Backing away, Victor growled at the closest guard. “Get a cleaner to disinfect the floor. He’s made a fucking mess.”
“Yes, Sir V.” The guard took off but not before his gaze narrowed on me as I fought trembling, exhausted limbs and tried to sit upright. I’d managed to ignore the slicing pain in my bladder, but…I wouldn’t be able to for much longer. And the thought of wetting myself added yet another layer of horror.
I stopped breathing as the guard skidded to a stop on the threshold and looked back. His gaze met mine. He sighed with a wince as if unable to stand our condition, then took off before I could decide if it was real or fanciful wishing.
Was that one of the guards Ben and Stewart said were on our side?
Closing my eyes, I committed him to memory. Lean but tall, narrow chin and short dark hair. Clean-shaven with a tattoo of a fading butterfly on his hand.
Henri cried out, wrenching my attention to him.
“D-Don’t…” I reached a feeble hand toward Victor as he wrenched off Henri’s hood.
My heart fisted with despair as I caught Henri’s gaze.
Last night, his eyes had been clear and fierce. Lucid and full of fury. Now…
God, now…
I flinched as Henri’s nostrils flared. He tried catching a breath around the ball gag. His face dripped with condensation from his breath trapped in the hood, and those stunning silver eyes no longer belonged to a man but to a creature.
A creature that’d been pushed to the brink of sanity and had stared into the pitch-black darkness all night. A darkness full of silence and terror, starvation and torment.
Henri… I smiled through my tears, begging him to come back to me. I’m here. It’s me.
Slowly, the wildness in his stare faded a little. Breath by frantic breath, the animal inside him crawled back inside, leaving the man I’d fallen so in love with.
You’re okay… I nodded, begging him to stay sane.
He blinked slowly, hearing me, loving me.
Victor sniffed and snapped a finger in front of his face. Wrenching off Henri’s headphones, he barked, “Your ears belong to me now. You will obey every instruction I give you without question. Do you understand?”
Henri glowered at him. His chin covered in spit from the gag.
“The same goes for your eyes. Whenever I am in the room, you will only look at me,” Victor said far too softly. “If you dare look at Ilyana, I will whip her with the very same whip I gifted you. Nod if you agree.”
Henri threw himself forward, the chains clanging as his arms stayed tethered above him. A feral noise growled in his chest.
“Why must you make me do this the hard way?” Victor rolled his eyes. “No matter.” Reaching into the back waistband of his aubergine suit, he pulled out the coiled whip that Henri used on me in Sapphire Scars.
Henri instantly went slack in his binds. His eyes flared. He groaned.
Victor shrugged and stepped off the stage toward me. “I warned you, my pet. Your eyes belong to me now. Your ears belong to me now. Everything you hear and look at must be approved by me from this day forward. You will understand how serious I am about this new rule, Henri. Otherwise, I’ll cut off your ears and scoop out your eyes and be done with it.”
Henri fought his cuffs as Victor stood over me. “Stand up, Ilyana. Hold on to a chair if you must.”
Henri roared behind his gag. He shook his head. His knees buckled as starvation tore through whatever meagre strength he had left.
Peter stepped toward me, yanked backward by his own chain. “Sir V…don’t—”
“You will be quiet, Peter. Otherwise, I’ll shackle you up there with Henri.”
It took everything I had to stand up and shuffle to the closest chair, my chain following me.
I grabbed the scrolled carved wood with trembling fingers, my vision spluttering in and out.
At least Victor didn’t make me wait.
The familiar hiss of the leather crackled in the air.
For a second, my body tried to find pleasure, remembering the ecstasy of Henri’s delivery. The way he layered me with his autograph. The way he fed fire into our hearts and then detonated us with pleasure.
But then everything shut down as pain erupted across my ass. The silver satin teddy split from the whip’s sharpness, gaping in the icy morning.
“Three little swats.” Victor grunted as he delivered yet another stinging punishment. It landed across my lower back, biting, tearing.
His strike hurt far, far worse than Henri’s.
Unrefined. Pure cruelty.
I had no strength to hold onto the chair. No strength in any muscle and no ability to hold my throbbing bladder.
Collapsing to my knees, I screamed with fury and heartache as Victor whipped me a third time and a warm wet stream flowed down my legs.
Cupping my face, hiding my shame, I couldn’t look at anyone.
Not Henri, not Peter, not Victor.
I huddled in a disgraced, painful puddle all while Victor tossed the whip onto the table and stalked back to Henri.
My fear for him overrode my own disgrace.
My horror over what Victor would do gave me just enough strength to look up and catch Henri’s stare.
He looked away immediately.
Cutting me off.
Refusing to see me.
And I couldn’t do it.
I knew he did it to protect me. To prevent Victor from whipping me again.
But it hurt.
Fuck, it hurt.
Hurt so much to be denied.
Refused.
Avoided all because he loved me.
I was the one person who had the power to make Henri’s life so much better than it was, and instead…I’d become the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Forgive me.
God…please, please forgive me.
I sat there sobbing as Victor gently unbuckled Henri’s ball gag and waited as Henri winced and moaned, working his jaw from its stiffness from being spread all night. “Your voice belongs to me now,” Victor murmured, massaging Henri’s cheeks with sick kindness. “You don’t speak unless it’s to me, do you understand?” Pressing a kiss to Henri’s sweat-drenched cheek, he murmured, “Your every sense is mine now. Test me if you must, but Ilyana will pay the price.”
Sucking in a tattered breath, Henri hung in his binds.
Peter gave him a heartbreaking look.
I held my bleeding soul in my hands.
And Henri delivered himself straight to the devil, sacrificing himself for me, for Paavak, for love.
“I understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That my senses belong to you.”
“Belong to me…what?”
Henri gulped. “Belong to you… Sir V .”
“Good boy.” Victor smiled as if Henri had agreed to a lazy afternoon of poker. “Think about what you’ve learned this morning. I’ll be back this afternoon with your next lesson.”
He left just like he had last night.
The ballroom doors closed.
Leaving the three of us bound and dying.
None of us spoke.
Not one of us looked at the other.
Exactly as Victor commanded.