Chapter Nine
………………………….
Ily
“NO. STOP. LEAVE HIM ALONE!”
I screamed as Victor laughed and tossed Henri onto the table exactly like Henri had tossed me the night of the treasure hunt. Crockery went flying. Glass went shattering. Rachel dashed out of the way of falling cutlery, and Victor merely grinned.
Flipping Henri onto his stomach, Victor pinned him down with his fists on his lower back. “Ready, mon ami ? Ready to please me?”
Henri struggled. “Get the fuck off me.”
He kicked.
He grabbed a butter knife and tried to stab Victor in the thigh. “Fuck you. Fuck you !”
“Think you’ll find I’m about to fuck you .” Victor cackled. “Isn’t that what you said to Ilyana one night?”
Henri lost it.
He fought, but…he was no match.
Mostly starved, hopelessly beaten, weak, and tortured to the point of insanity, he didn’t stand a chance.
And it’s my fault.
All my fault.
He’d allowed himself to be abused because of me.
Hurt because of me.
Raped because of me.
“Stop it! Please!” I tried to get free from the chain imprisoning me on the wall. I scratched at my awful collar and sold my soul to the devil if only I could take his place. If only I could save him, protect him. “Take me instead!”
“You’re no better than a blow-up doll.” Victor smirked, running his hand over Henri’s bare ass. “He’s going to be so much better.”
I sobbed as he kicked Henri’s legs apart.
I suffocated on a scream as Victor wrenched down his trousers, fisted his cock, and—
I shot upright.
Panting.
Sweating.
Breaking.
Just a nightmare.
Just a dream.
Another one.
One of so many.
Every night, I screamed in my sleep.
Every morning, I woke hoarse from begging monsters to stop hurting him when I couldn’t utter a word in real life.
My sheets dripped with sick panic. My heart raced so fast it skipped and palpitated.
Falling back into my fear-damp sheets, I curled into a ball and sobbed.
I was so tired.
So, so tired of this horror.
Of watching Victor break my twin flame into pieces.
Pieces I did my best to gather up and hold safe but were slowly snuffing out.
I didn’t know how much longer I could survive it.
How much longer Henri could survive it.
A key slipped into my door.
The lock snicked open.
I huddled under my blankets as footfalls entered my room.
The guards were early.
It was barely dawn—
Someone wrenched my cocoon away, leaving me trembling in the icy light.
Before I could move, slender feminine fingers threaded softly through my hair. Someone bent over me; soft lips fed whispers into my ear. “It’s almost over, Ily. Christmas is in two days, and our presents are ready.”
She pulled away.
I sat up in a rush just in time to see Faiza grab the dirty towels where I’d thrown them over the chair and scurry to the door. The glint of a golden collar replaced her silver one.
She smiled as she caught me looking, her dark eyes bright and hopeful instead of despondent and depressed. “He made me a jewel yesterday. This is my last morning cleaning. But…” She hugged my towels and winked. “Christmas is in two days.”
With that cryptic whisper, she slipped out the door and vanished.
* * * * *
Christmas is in two days.
Christmas is in two days.
I couldn’t stop Faiza’s fervent whisper echoing in my head.
Constantly.
Morbidly.
Christmas is in two days.
Yes but…Victor punished all the jewels. I’d seen the scars on them. Seen how those still alive cowered by their Masters. How they barely lifted their eyes anymore. No one looked at me or Peter. Not a ripple of rebellion existed in the energy flowing in the ballroom night after awful night.
And yet…
Christmas is in two days.
I glanced at Peter across the huge banquet and prettily dressed tables.
He stood in his usual spot. Kept apart from the other jewels. Separated from their quarters. No longer allowed to talk to them.
He gave me a questioning look as I narrowed my eyes, trying to read his body language.
Did he know what was planned?
Did he know the jewels had rallied and kept going?
How did they? Why did they?
A second attempt would be suicide if Victor ever found out.
He shrugged as I studied him far too blatantly. We barely looked at each other anymore just in case Victor took offense and took it out on Henri. His collar remained hooked to a matching chain, our places on either side of the stage almost comfortably familiar at this point.
Out of all the jewels serving the many Masters, we had it easy.
We were the pawns. The collateral.
Henri was the prize.
Apart from a few pinches in private places, a few slurs, and a few leers…the Masters knew better than to touch us.
For the past month, while Victor dallied with Henri and Rachel steadily grew bigger with their baby, I’d caught a few Masters whispering about their leader. Men flew back to their families while others flew in to indulge in sin, yet all of them watched Victor with a glower that wasn’t there before.
Their secretive glances hinted they were no longer happy to leave Victor in charge. No doubt chaffing at his many rules and wondering why Victor could harm and brutalise a jewel, yet they never could.
Victor hadn’t noticed. Too wrapped up in his games with Henri.
But I had.
I had nothing but time to notice while chained to this wall and watching.
Sick amusement filled me at the thought of the Masters rising up and killing Victor. I almost wanted it to happen. At least Henri would be safe.
But that was a lie I couldn’t swallow.
Victor was the only one keeping the other men from turning into lunatics.
He was undoubtedly deranged. I knew that now. I saw the gleam of insanity in his eyes, growing more unstable by the day as he tortured Henri and preened over Rachel’s ballooning belly. But he still had morals. Still compelled absolute obedience from all those in his home.
Christmas is in two days.
Perhaps that home would be rubble by then.
Perhaps we would all be dead, and these would be my last two nights on this planet.
I looked at Peter again.
His gaze locked on Henri kneeling at Victor’s feet.
Henri kept his chin down, his shoulders slouched, his many bruises decorated with scars from Victor whipping him, cutting him, marking him.
My heart squeezed so painfully, I had to look away.
I caught a glint of black hair in the back corner of the palatial ballroom.
Faiza.
She knelt beside Master W, her hands balled on her thighs, her black lingerie barely covering her stunning body. Feeling me watching her, she looked up.
Instead of dropping her stare and flinching in fear of reprimand, she smiled so big and true my entire body filled with fire.
Christmas is in two days.
And for the first time in a very long time, hope unfurled its tentative wings.
Hope.
That horrible, excruciating emotion.
An emotion I’d done my best to eradicate because it only brought horror and hardship.
But good God , it came back with a vengeance.
It flooded me.
Frightened me.
And Peter stiffened across the room as he caught my gaze.
I wanted to tell him what Faiza had told me.
I wished I could tell him that the jewels—those incredibly brave jewels who we’d tried and failed to save—might end up saving us…but I couldn’t.
He frowned as waitstaff appeared and cleared away dessert plates smeared with cheesecake crumbs and berry coulis. Soon, we would get our rations. A small offering consisting of leftovers.
“Gentlemen.” Victor stood with a sharp clap of his hands. He shot me a look and shook his head as if he knew my inner thoughts and tasted my quickest flush of faith.
And in a single instant, he murdered all that newfound hope. Stomped over all my optimism and reminded me all over again that this was hell and he was the fucking devil.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that there hasn’t been a show tonight.” Victor nodded at his guests.
“The entertainment in here is failing, Vic,” someone snickered.
“That better be in jest, Harold.” Victor narrowed his eyes. “But in case it’s not, allow me to deliver tonight’s ‘entertainment’.” Snapping his fingers, he waited as staff fanned out around the room, delivering a box to each Master.
Not another game.
Please, no—
If they shot Henri with paintballs again…
A rumble of intrigue crept around the ballroom as each man opened the box and pulled out a whip.
My heart leapt into my throat.
I glanced at Henri.
He hadn’t moved from Victor’s table. Kneeling beside Rachel who sat in a chair, huddled and hating everything. Her dark blue silk dressing gown gaped over her ample cleavage as she wrapped her arms around herself.
Henri didn’t move. Didn’t look at me. He kept his gaze firmly, safely , on the floor.
“Friends,” Victor preened, fanning his arms and bowing his head like a mad duke. “I’m aware you’ve all become a little testy with the fact that I’ve been busy training my new jewel with methods that are…unavailable to you.”
For God’s sake.
Was there nothing this man didn’t see?
So he had seen the Masters’ snide glances and whispers. Had he seen the jewels scurrying about too? Was all of this yet another game to him, waiting to see who would bumble right into his latest sticky trap?
Fear prickled down my spine. Goosebumps erupted across my arms.
Striding toward Henri, Victor ordered, “On the stage, my pet. Quickly now. You wouldn’t want me to put Ily in your place, would you?”
Without a word, Henri climbed to his feet and walked naked up the steps to the pole where he’d hung that first morning.
“Chain him, if you please.” Victor smiled at a guard and looked back at the crowd.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Henri as he obediently raised his cuffed wrists so the guard could attach them to the hook above. Turning him to face the pole, the guard whispered something in his ear before marching back to his place on the edge of the stage.
Henri’s already flayed back rippled with tension.
He flicked a look at the guard, his eyes narrowed and questioning.
What had he whispered?
Was that another guard on our side?
Does he know about Christmas?
What the hell is going on?
I breathed hard as Victor said, “I know you think I have double standards when it comes to what you can and cannot do with my precious jewels. I’m protective of them, but only so you can enjoy many years of companionship. However, with Henri…well.” He chuckled. “I’m not so protective. And so, consider this my treat for you and yet another level of ownership for him.” He grinned. “We’re getting close, my dear friends. Close to owning everything that he holds dear. I’m inviting you to help me break his last remaining pieces.”
I couldn’t breathe as Victor pulled out the same brown whip he’d used on me from his back waistband. Smoothing down his navy blazer, he grinned at the crowd and cracked the whip. “Each of you has my permission to whip him as hard as you like. Draw blood. Shred his back. Do whatever you fancy.” He smirked. “The only rule is five strikes per Master. And don’t molest him. That’s my job. I’ll go first.”
I swallowed my scream as Victor wrenched his arm back.
Sent the whip singing.
And struck.