Chapter 6
I let the woman dress me, trying to summon every ounce of strength I’ve built over the years since escaping the community.
In my life on the run with Amber, I’ve never had the luxury of therapy to deal with my traumas, and if I’m honest, I don’t even know if it would work.
I’m not good at telling my secrets, least of all the ones that terrify me.
I carry deep fears, dark places inside me that I don’t have the courage to revisit.
So, there’s no point in talking to a professional if I’d only end up hiding most of what really scarred my heart.
“I’ll braid your hair,” the woman says. “It’s too long. It’ll cover part of your body, and that’s not what we want.”
I want to ask how she can work for them, being a woman herself. How she manages to lay her head on a pillow at night knowing she’s helping treat us like merchandise, sold to satisfy perverts, only to be discarded later for death or worse.
But I’m not na?ve. I left my innocence behind long ago, and I know the reason she does what she does: money.
Money moves the world, followed by lust and the hunger for power.
“Do whatever you think is best,” I say, speaking to her for the first time since she came to “get me ready” for the auction.
Just using that word, knowing I’m about to be treated like a thing, makes me feel like I’m spiraling into despair.
No, Elodie. You’re not giving up now. They can’t win, a voice tells me. Think of Amber.
The memory of my sister, currently in the hands of a dangerous stranger, is enough to erase any doubt about the role I must play tonight.
I hear the woman sigh.
She was adjusting the bow on the lingerie I’m wearing, but now she steps in front of me and meets my eyes.
“I’m just doing my job,” she says.
Keep telling yourself that, you miserable coward.
“I know,” I answer, looking over her shoulder so I can control my rage.
“You need to put this on,” she says, handing me a sheer robe. It’s beautiful, actually, just like the lingerie set I’m wearing.
The bastards really do invest in high-quality pieces to get the best bid.
I lift my arms so she can slide the robe over them. Apparently, she thinks I’m incapable of doing it myself, or maybe. . .
Horror strikes me as I glance around the room, suddenly searching for something I didn’t consider before: cameras.
I don’t see them, but I suddenly suspect that might be the reason she’s dressing me, as if performing some sort of ritual.
I try to look discreetly at the walls, wondering from which angle those bastards might be watching me. But I don’t have time to think about it further, because the moment she ties the sash on the robe, the door opens and my personal monster, Fiorello, walks in.
That’s all the confirmation I need. Yes, he’s been watching me. My only small relief is that, being so possessive of me, he might be the only one checking the footage.
It doesn’t comfort me to know he’s seen me naked, but it’s less awful than several of them watching.
I think he was watching in real time. It can’t be a coincidence that he came in at the exact moment I was finished.
“Leave,” he says to the woman, and she doesn’t wait for him to repeat the order.
I can almost feel the waves of fear rolling off her, and once again, I realize I’ve underestimated Fiorello’s cruelty.
I had a glimpse of it when, days ago, he told me what he did to his ex-wife.
But even then, maybe in some desperate attempt to keep my mind from panicking, I still believed he wasn’t quite as bad as the others.
Now I’m certain he’s one of the worst.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his eyes raking over my half-naked body with open hunger, making it clear that, yes, he was watching me.
At the thought of being naked before him, I clench my jaw so tightly that my teeth scrape together.
I’m not in the habit of giving out smiles, but the one I offer now is the fakest of my life.
“I’m yours,” I reply, my voice syrupy sweet.
He steps closer, and a shudder of disgust runs through me as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Not yet. But you will be. And once I possess you, no other man will ever touch you again.”
Maybe another woman could mistake the possessiveness in his voice for love. But I hear it as a threat, because I remember that he killed his wife.
“Why haven’t you done it already?” I ask, before I can stop myself.
It’s not that I want his touch. The mere idea makes me want to scream. But I can’t help my curiosity. How has he restrained himself despite the obvious desire he feels for me?
“You know what’s happening tonight?”
I nod because he already explained the auction, albeit in broad terms.
“I convinced Angelo to auction you off for a one-month trial. A test, as we call it here. But I arranged it so you’d go with an acquaintance of mine, someone I completely trust. He’ll help us, but he’ll also be investing money in you.
He’ll probably want a taste of your sweetness.
That’s why I haven’t fucked you yet. I knew that, eventually, someone else would.
And if it happened after I already had, I’d consider it betrayal.
I’d have to kill you and him. But since I’ve never touched you, you don’t bear my mark yet.
Be good to him, and everything will be fine. ”