Chapter Nineteen
………………………….
Ily
VICTOR ARRIVED FOUR DAYS LATER.
The friends he’d permitted to return flew in before him—as if they couldn’t tolerate being away for so long. They behaved themselves and didn’t cause any issues. They didn’t even play with any jewels, preferring to decompress by the pools and drink long into the night.
I managed to meet Peter, Faiza, Mollie, and Rachel one more time before we all decided it would be too risky with a full house once again.
We had our tasks. We had our timeframe.
We would continue gathering supplies, making presents, and hiding them around the castle where no one would find them until it was too late. Faiza had recruited three other cleaners who helped smuggle Mollie’s gifts under loads of laundry and trolleys full of fresh sheets and towels. They had instructions to ensure every Master’s room had at least one explosive hidden inside.
Everything seemed to be going as smoothly as it could.
Apart from Henri.
I touched my lips where I sat by our bedroom window, looking down at the gardens below.
That nightmare a few nights ago had been the worst one yet. He’d often woken me thrashing and tossing, but this was the first time he’d screamed.
His voice had cracked.
His hands had grabbed at shadows.
Pure despair poured from him, and I couldn’t let him stay in such misery.
I’d woken him.
He’d kissed me.
And then he’d bolted off and hadn’t come back.
Goosebumps erupted, recalling the way he’d ripped up the Diamond Kiss chit. The gesture had sent my heart flying. The clench of his jaw lit me up with hope.
I’d wanted to ask him there and then.
To finally test to see if he would be on our side, but…he’d avoided me ever since.
He never seemed to sleep.
He’d lost more weight.
His grey eyes always black with nightmares.
Each time I reached out to him, he shrank away as if my touch physically hurt him. Each time I tried to speak, he shut down.
The helplessness as he faded before my eyes drove me mad.
If I didn’t manage to break through to him soon…
My eyes strayed to the switchblade he’d smuggled here in the lining of his jacket.
It sat smugly on his bedside table, the blade tucked away, the handle metallic and smooth.
He’d returned with it yesterday.
At some point, he’d gone up to Victor’s dead zoo where he’d drawn my blood and taken me on the cross. He’d reclaimed that sharp little knife…for what?
For protection from the Masters roaming the halls again?
To slay the monsters in his mind when he woke up screaming in the dark?
Or for something else?
He needs to talk to me.
He’d bottled up far too many things.
Every feeling had noosed around his throat until he hung on that rope, slowly choking.
But how could I get him to talk in a place where talking was so treacherous?
It wasn’t a simple matter of sitting down and clearing the air between us.
I’d often gotten so frustrated at couples who never talked through their problems. So many issues could be solved with a frank and accepting conversation.
But here, under the constant watch of cameras?
Everything I needed to say was treasonous and everything he had to say was probably far too personal for an audience.
Didn’t stop the words lingering on the tip of my tongue.
Assurances that I didn’t hate him, that I cared, that I trusted him despite the mess between us—
The door crashed open.
As if I’d summoned him by thinking about him, Henri appeared.
Dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt, he looked like a man who’d already been hung from the gallows, and now only his ghost haunted me.
“He’s here,” he muttered.
My ears rang, so used to his silence by day and screams by night.
It took a while for those two words to compute. “He’s here?”
“He’s summoned all of us. We’re to gather in the ballroom.”
“Victor.” I shuddered and crossed my arms.
“Victor.” He nodded.
Marching into the bathroom, he closed the door.
Victor was back.
Yippee.
* * * * *
Sunshine streamed through the ballroom’s stained-glass windows, determined to give no places for shadows and evil to hide, forcing them out into the open.
Unlike all the other times Henri had fed me in here—all the nights I’d kneeled at his feet and done my best to stay quiet while jewels acted out pornos and Masters stuffed their faces, there were no scents of dinner or slaves dressed up for a show.
The stage was empty.
The aura of the room tense with expectation.
My ears pricked as two Masters a table away shot us a look. Their whispers couldn’t be deciphered, but the way they gawked at Henri hinted at what they spoke about.
They still thought he was either a cop or a killer.
Weeks had passed, and still, their suspicions fogged the room.
Drinks were served, and Henri sat fisting his beer glass, his eyes skimming the crowd of men, some with a jewel at their feet and others sitting together, quietly chatting. A few awful rounds of laughter. A quick squeak from a slave getting reprimanded.
I flinched as I caught the jewel’s eye. Corinne. Bowing her head, she used her hair to curtain her face.
Sucking in a breath, I scanned the room.
Twenty-two guests.
I’d hoped Victor would see fit to revoke more memberships than he had. Seemed the month long abstinence from this place ensured an eager crowd.
I counted the guards next.
Twelve ringed the doorways dotted around the ballroom.
Mollie was right.
We were severely outnumbered. Hopefully in four months, when we’d done all we could and Christmas rolled around, there’d be half this number of patrons. A quarter. We’d need all our strength to fight the guards without fearing the Masters and their electricity remotes.
My heart rabbited as I stroked my collar.
I hadn’t had the opportunity to test to see if it was still inactive. Even if it was…it didn’t suddenly open doors that’d once been closed. I couldn’t waltz over the drawbridge and hail a taxi. I couldn’t send telepathic messages to my brother and give him our address.
Telepathic.
I stiffened as I recalled a few more twin flame notes that Krish and I had researched: The intensity between you and your twin flame can sometimes cause phenomena like telepathy and psychic connections. An intense connection of belonging and yearning. An inner pull that can’t be ignored or stopped. Your bond can be so profound, you begin to feel the other’s pain, desire, and stress.
Was that why I could sense Henri’s unravelling?
Were we that connected even when we both struggled against it?
Sighing heavily, I dropped my fingers from my collar.
My eyes snapped to Peter across the ballroom.
My heart instantly squeezed.
He kneeled like the rest of us next to a Master with a bushy brown beard. The man’s large belly sat on his thighs as he chuckled at something another Master said.
Peter gave me half a smile as our eyes met. The shadow of a bruise on his cheekbone made my hands ball with fury.
He wasn’t even out of bandages yet, and someone had already struck him.
My heart didn’t just ache. It tore.
Fucking bastards.
All of them.
They’ll die.
We’ll make sure of—
A loud bang and a shrill scream sounded beyond the double doors to the ballroom, capturing everyone’s attention. Masters quietened. Jewels flinched.
Peter winced and shook his head.
He mouthed something I didn’t catch, then sighed and looked away.
“Good afternoon, my dear friends!” Victor suddenly appeared, arms aloft like a returning conqueror, black suit impeccable, his stride eating up the dance floor with eager, powerful strides. “I can’t tell you how good it is to be home.”
A murmur of welcomes.
A few men stood to shake his hand.
Henri stiffened, his knee touching my shoulder. He smiled when Victor nodded in his direction, but he didn’t wave or clap like some of the others. Throwing his beer down his throat, he slammed his glass onto the table and snapped his fingers for another.
A server placed another ice-dewy glass before him just as Victor finished his parade to the podium and leapt up the steps.
Trim and toned, he didn’t look his age, despite the grey tinsel in his hair. His navy eyes glinted and his skin glowed as if he’d just stepped off a plane after the best holiday of his life.
Sick bastard.
Smirking at the Masters and jewels scattered around different tables, he bowed with a flourish. “Welcome back, everyone. Welcome home.”
“Thanks for the invite, Vic!” A few Masters toasted him.
“Appreciate the second chance.” Another tipped his chin.
“Yes, yes, you’re quite welcome.” Victor straightened and clasped his hands in front of him. “I’m sure you’ve all taken my instructions to heart, and we will have no more mishaps, yes?”
“Definitely.” Two Masters nodded.
“We’ll play within the guidelines from now on, never fear.” Another laughed.
“Good, I’m glad.” Victor bounced on the balls of his feet, brimming with energy. “In that case…I have gifts for you. But first…how has everyone been?”
“Better now we’re all back, Vic!” someone said.
“Come on, show us the new stock, mate!” Another snickered. “I caught a glimpse of them when you arrived, and a couple looked right up my alley!”
Oh God.
My skin pebbled with frost and fire.
How many?
How many had been trafficked into this hellhole this time?
How many more do we need to save?
Another bang in the foyer followed by a pitiful cry.
Sickness crawled up my throat.
Henri stiffened.
Peter rolled his shoulders across the room, knowing better than I did what was coming.
I’m no longer the new girl…
“So impatient.” Victor laughed. “But…seeing as you’re all so keen to see what I’ve brought you, fine. We can catch up over dinner later.” Clicking his fingers, he raised his voice. “Bring them in.”
The floor beneath my knees turned into an arctic tundra as two guards shepherded eight new faces into the ballroom.
Eight?
The room swam.
God, eight?
Peter sucked in a breath, his stare snagging mine with matching horror.
The past month of preparing for a jail break seemed utterly pointless as six girls and two boys were prodded at gunpoint toward the stage.
Even if we managed to claim our freedom in four months, the amount of abuse these poor souls would endure. The terror they’d feel. The pain—
A sharp gasp ripped my gaze to Mollie. She kneeled beside Roland’s polished shoes, her hands balled on her bare thighs. We just nodded at each other. Our plan had to work. There was no other option.
I couldn’t exist in a world where men like Victor got away with using people like throwaway toys. Even if we got out, I would never stop hunting others like him, doing my best to prevent anyone else from living this awful, awful nightmare.
Henri inhaled sharply, his knee digging harder against my shoulder as if he needed to touch me. Needed that connection so he didn’t do something ill-advised.
Glancing up at him, I flinched.
His jaw clenched so tightly, the tendons in his throat popped like ropes beneath his skin. Sweat glittered on his temples. His slightly longer hair curled a little over his forehead, making his hollow cheeks all the more severe.
“And here they are, gentlemen. It has been a successful hunt, I must say.” Victor chuckled as the eight new jewels all shuffled and sniffled, herded at gunpoint through the ballroom.
Jittery steps, wet cheeks, wild eyes.
The flash of newly fastened collars and cuffs.
The stench of terror and dismay.
All naked.
Clapping his hands again, Victor waited until the sounds of appreciation and wolf whistles had silenced before beckoning the guards to march the new jewels onto the stage.
“Aren’t they precious?” Victor ran his fingers through the blonde hair of the closest girl. “So pretty. So young.”
“Where did you find them, Vic?” asked the brown-bearded guy currently running his fingers over Peter’s hunched shoulder.
“Oh, I’ve been all over, mon ami,” Victor replied, eyeing up each new jewel as the guards ushered them into a trembly line. “I do hope you like them.”
“Pass one here, and I’ll tell you if I like them or not.” An untoned, dark-skinned man laughed.
The cold in my bones turned glacial.
My heart riddled with frostbite.
He’ll die.
And him.
And him.
And him.
All of them.
“Yes, yes, you’re all at liberty to play, of course. But first.” Victor grinned. “Allow me to introduce you to our newest members of my Jewelry Box. I do hope you will make them feel welcome.”
A few men chuckled. “Hell yeah, we’ll make them feel welcome. Very welcome.”
Victor gave the man a tight smile, then prowled along the line and planted his hands on the smallest girl’s shoulders. Looming over her from behind, he looked like the worst kind of predator. “First up, this is…what was your name again, my sweetling?” He squeezed her until she winced and dropped her eyes. With black hair and a gaunt frame, she didn’t look old enough to graduate high-school, let alone be trafficked into this place.
Horror filled me.
Despair followed.
Henri shifted on his chair as my insides crawled.
“Are you squirmin’ because you want a piece, or are you uncomfortable, Henri?”
My eyes shot to the table next to ours.
Henri grunted and swallowed hard. “What?”
An older red-headed man who’d lurked around since the beginning smirked. Patting Nancy on her head where she kneeled next to him, he grinned. “I’ve seen you around. I watched you fuck your little tidbit the night of the storm. Despite the minor misunderstanding of your profession as a cop, I thought you’d slotted right in.”
Henri gave him a tight smile. “Then what’s your problem?”
The man leaned closer, his eyes mean. “My point is you’re very tightly wound. I would’ve expected the opposite, seeing as you were the only one allowed to stay. You’re not the one who had to tame himself back in society. You’ve been here the whole time, fucking your jewel, being who you truly are.” He waved a limp wrist in Henri’s direction. “So why are you so…jumpy?”
Henri stiffened. “Forgive me if I still have a shred of empathy. They’re new. This will be overwhelming. I remember how my first day felt, and I was on the opposite side of the collar.”
“Could always shackle one around your neck too, hey? Let you feel firsthand what they’re going through?” He snickered. “Perhaps you’re a cop after all, and that’s why you’re curling your lip at the new merchandise.”
“Can’t help it if they’re not my type.”
“No.” The man narrowed his eyes on me. “Turns out she’s your type, and you’re not the sharing kind.”
Henri went terrifyingly still. “You’re right. I’m not.”
“Pity.” The Master chuckled. “But oh well. Eight new treats to sample. Tell me.” He rubbed his chin and looked at the jewels on the stage. “Have any caught your eye because I have first dibs on the blonde and would hate to find you being annoying and paying yet another fortune to keep her out of our reach.”
“Nope. She’s all yours,” Henri muttered.
“You bloody bastard,” I hissed under my breath, my rage pouring free.
Peter’s head snapped up across the ballroom. Rachel shot me a wide-eyed look as she kneeled by the stage waiting for Victor.
Oops.
I hadn’t meant to say that.
Henri wasn’t the one I was furious with.
It was this.
This sick energy percolating in here. The rancid lust from horrible men and petrified fear from captives.
Rolling my shoulders, I whispered, “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.” Henri sighed with stark weariness, not reacting to my fire.
I hated that he didn’t react. If he snapped. If he snarled. If he burned with me…there’d still be a chance. A chance he was still in there…still the one person I couldn’t stand to want and the one man I needed above all others.
“I am a bastard.” He nodded.
I hated the monotone, the dead tone.
Twisting to look at him, my temper sparked again, driven by loss and loneliness. “You know what? You are a bastard.”
He froze.
His grey eyes flared.
The other Master huffed and looked back at the stage.
God, Ily…now what have you done?
But something pushed me, needled me.
He had to snap somehow. He had to wake from whatever misery had drugged him.
Slowly, incredibly, a flare of silver light appeared in his shutdown stare. “You’re agreeing with me now? After trying to come onto me all month?” Bending over me, he breathed into my ear, “I might be a bastard, but I’m the only one ensuring you stay alive.”
“How? By ignoring me?”
“By staying the fuck away from you,” he snarled.
Finally.
Passion.
Pain and passion and spark.
I raised my chin. “So you’re not a bastard…you’re just an asshole.”
God, Ily!
It didn’t even make sense.
I had no idea what I was doing yet…
Henri shifted and speared his fingers through my loose hair. Dragging me closer, he groaned, “Fuck, I’ve missed you calling me names.”
The way he trembled.
The way my heart pounded.
Everything erupted with life.
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
And I let stupidity and instinct rule me. “Fuck you.”
He shuddered. His eyes snapped shut. When they opened again, they blazed. “You have no idea how badly I—”
“Ah, Henri.” Victor chuckled, cutting through our flaming chemistry like a garotte. “Back to your whispers, hmm?”
As if he remembered where he was. As if the weight and blackness of the past month leapt on him in one move, Henri sagged in his chair and let me go. “Je suis désolé, Vic.” He forced a grin. “Please…continue.”
“Do you wish to share with the rest of the class?” Victor smiled at me. “Ilyana…what did he say to you?”
Ignoring Peter’s, Rachel’s, and Mollie’s fearful eyes, I sneered. “Only that he plans on fucking me the moment you finish waffling on.”
For a moment, Victor didn’t say anything. His eyes gleamed as if he knew more than he let on. Finally, he laughed delicately and glanced at Henri. “We’ll catch up tonight, mon ami. We have much to discuss.”
Henri jerked a nod as Victor turned his attention back to the blonde beside him.
“Your name, sweetling. I won’t ask again.”
The poor girl rattled with shakes. “L-Laura.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Victor stroked her shoulders. “Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Clasping her hand, he raised it in his. “Everyone, please give a very warm welcome to the lovely Laura.”
“Please!” Laura begged, tugging where Victor held her. “This must be some mistake. I-I’m not meant to be here. I only left my boyfriend for five minutes. H-He’ll be looking for me. This is a mistake. Please, please take me back.”
“Sweetling, there is no mistake.” Victor let her go. “You’re home, whether you like it or not.”
Striding past her, he touched the next girl—a curvy dark blonde with large nipples. “Gentlemen, this is Chloe.” He smiled kindly. “I remember you as it’s such a pretty name to go with your very pretty face.”
Chloe shied away, but Victor didn’t reprimand her.
Striding to the third girl, he ran his hands over her corkscrew brown curls. “And this is Tanya.” He glanced down. “It is Tanya, correct? My memory is starting to go on me, I’m afraid.”
“I-It’s Talia.” She flinched back from his caress.
“Another pretty name.” Victor pressed a fatherly kiss on her forehead. Turning to face the crowd, he beamed. “Say hello to Talia, my dear friends!”
“Wait. Please. I-I don’t want to be here,” Talia begged. “I was only supposed to sleep with one guy. That’s what the escort service said. I-I have a daughter back at home—”
“Ahh, Vic.” A grumble of voices sounded from Victor’s despicable guests. “A mother? Fuck that. What the hell?”
“I’ve been assured she’s tight, gentlemen.” Victor held up his hand. “Don’t begrudge the gifts I’m giving you before you’ve had a play, yes?”
Glancing down the line, he commanded, “Start from the end. Please give us your name, and then you’ll be permitted to rest. It’s been a long trip, and I’m aware you’ll all be tired.”
The two newly collared men who looked in their late teens glowered at Victor with hatred.
“I’m Carlos,” the Spanish-looking one spat.
“Jayden.” The dark-skinned one bared his teeth.
“And now you four, if you would.” Victor smiled at the remaining girls. Two exotic beauties and two mousy English roses.
“I-I’m Devi,” the smaller one whispered.
“I’m Jin.” The Korean stunner sniffed.
“I’m Ava and that’s Sadie. We…we’re sisters.” They looked at each other. “We only snuck out to go to that party because our dad was being such a bore. It was our last night in Santorini.”
The taller one started crying. “We only wanted to have some fun before we flew home. Please…this can’t be happening. We just want to go home.”
The second sister hugged her, tears rolling. “We won’t tell anyone, we promise. Just let us go and—”
“Fuck this.” Laura bolted.
Dashing off the stage, she darted around the tables only to fall flat on her face as one Master stuck out his leg, tripping her.
Victor sighed and rolled his eyes as the two boys joined her.
They exploded in a fit of speed, their bare feet slapping on the oak floor as they leapt off the stage.
Victor ran a finger over his eyebrow. “There’s really no point in running. You’re just harming yourselves by trying.”
“Screw you.” Talia grabbed Chloe’s hand and jumped down the steps. They almost made it to the double doors before they dropped to their stomachs, jerking with savage electricity.
Striding off the stage, Victor kept his thumb stabbed into his black device as he marched toward the thrashing jewels. The guards rounded up the others, poking them back into place with their guns.
Talia and Chloe twitched at his feet.
Victor never stopped pressing that damn button.
“First lesson, my new pets. Don’t speak if you’re not given permission. Don’t fight unless you’re told. Don’t run unless you’re made to. Don’t scream unless you’re being fucked.”
A few Masters laughed all while the girls learned firsthand what their collars were capable of. The other six just watched, yanking at their own collars, desperation clawing at their souls.
Hot, blistering tears scalded my eyes.
I couldn’t look away.
Couldn’t breathe.
My own veins sliced with memories of what that felt like.
I rolled into myself as phantom pains rippled down my body.
Henri touched my shoulder. “It’s okay, little nightmare.”
The first willing pet from him. The first kind word in so long.
I couldn’t look at him.
Across the room, Peter vibrated with uncontrollable rage. Every jewel present at dinner pulsed with violent energy. Waves of it wafted from the floor where we kneeled. Our matching hate and hopelessness itched in my teeth and pressed against my skull.
The surge of despair and revulsion coming from all my fellow prisoners cut through every illusion of training and obedience.
There was still life in us.
Still courage in us.
Still fight in us.
We have to get the fuck out of here.
Peter raised his eyes and met mine.
In a terribly bold move, he raised his bandaged fist and thumped it over his heart.
A single tear swelled and spilled down my cheek.
I raised my hand and thumped my heart too.
Henri’s chair fell back as he shot to his feet.
His suddenness cut Victor’s punishment short.
The new girls gasped and cried as their bodies jerked with exhaustion.
Bowing his head in respect at Victor, Henri grabbed me around the bicep and dragged me toward the doors leading to the deck outside. Smashing one open, he yanked me over the threshold, then broke into a run, dragging me beside him.