TWENTY-SEVEN
T he sound of my leather boots creaking against the concrete floors fills my ears. My steps are slow, calculated, yet quick enough to show dominance. The chains are tightly draped around my wrist, making a permanent imprint on the leather gloves. I do not falter.
I don’t show that my anxiety nearly kills me. I don’t show that I’m terrified of the million ways that this could go wrong at any moment. I don’t show that I’m not Madam Giselle and that I don’t fit in.
Hudson doesn’t speak at all. The last words he uttered were when he kissed me in the backseat of the tinted car a while ago, telling me that he’s right there with me and that no one will suspect us.
I can’t show that I don’t believe his words, not even for a second.
Too many eyes are on us the moment we step into the building. They don’t hide their curiosity, albeit most of them have some sort of a face covering. Some have custom-made masks, whereas others were too lazy for that. I think I even managed to glance a superman mask.
Burning gazes threaten to make my flesh dissolve. No one dares to approach me, but they’re murmuring and whispering. As Noelle Campbell, I’m used to such a gaze. However, this time, they are not afraid of me. In fact, it’s almost as if I’m being mocked.
The building is interesting, to say the least. I can’t count the exact number of security cameras, nor the guards that are spread all through the room. It’s quite spacious, but that’s not what makes my skin crawl.
In the middle of the room is a podium.
A podium inside of a big cage.
It has a red carpet on it, though it’s still empty. There are forty seats across each side, which means that eighty people will come tonight to buy—to purchase innocent human beings. I’m not a fool; I know well what happens to victims of human trafficking. Some are never found, while others are found in pieces.
I swallow and lick my bottom lip.
My throat is dry, and this is much bigger than I thought. Lucas was unable to find out who would attend, and I didn’t force him to dig deeper. I’m lucky enough that he managed to redirect Giselle’s invitation to me without getting caught. I couldn’t risk the operation failing because my curiosity got the better of me.
A tall, muscular, grumpy man shows me to my seat. It’s in the first row, at the far end. Hudson doesn’t have a seat, and he plops down on his knees, keeping his head on my crossed legs. That’s what we agreed on. He needs to look the part.
He hugs my legs to make himself look even more submissive and pathetic, and it helps immensely. The security at the front managed to find two of my guns and none of his. We got lucky, and I can’t thank the heavens enough.
People are whispering, murmuring, and clutching their numbers in their hands. Since they’re all masked, I can’t recognize anyone here. Undoubtedly, they’re all influential and wealthy figures in one or more ways. Money can buy a lot of things, and anonymity is one of them.
There are a couple of waiters going around offering alcohol. The selection isn’t too wide, but the champagne, whiskey and wine they’re offering are expensive. The drinks themselves cost more than a couple grand in total.
I look down at Hudson, only to see him darting his eyes around the room. The lights are dimmed, and it’s a great opportunity to at least sneak a few glances around.
There’s a big, red curtain where the cage and the podium begin. There are some muffled cries that completely disappear once the music starts playing. Aside from the entrance, there are two pairs of doors. One that leads up the stairs, and one that leads to the basement.
Both of which I’ll have to check out, one way or the other.
“Noelle, can you hear me?” Lucas speaks on the other side of the earpiece. “If you can hear me, clear your throat twice.”
I do as he says, and a sigh of relief slips from him.
“I’m having issues accessing security cameras inside. Whoever is in charge, he’s good, and he made sure that it’s next to impossible to get in. Not that I can’t do it, I’ll just need more time.”
I clear my throat once more, signaling that I understand.
“I found the old building layout,” he adds. “The door on the right wall leads to the basement. Whatever you do, do not go downstairs. It’s a horror movie waiting to happen. You won’t be able to get out.”
I close my eyes.
Lucas is right.
But the basement door is right next to the curtains, and I’m certain that the victims are being kept in the basement. Someone will have to go downstairs and help them, and it can’t be me.
I’m used to doing everything on my own. It’s easier, it’s quicker, and I don’t have to depend on anyone to help me. I’m forced to get myself out of impossible situations and learn from the experiences it brings.
However, now that too many lives are at stake, I can’t do that.
I need to put my trust in the team of elite assassins and snipers the two families have trained for years. I need to trust that they will do their job well. Not a single person on the team has ever failed, and they will not start tonight.
My heartrate starts going up, my hands start swelling in the leather gloves, and my forehead starts sweating. It leaves too much discomfort in my veins. A sharp, probing pain continuously stabs the pit of my stomach, and I have to resist the urge to vomit.
The hunch—the terrible gut feeling—doesn’t leave even after the majority of the people are sitting down, prepared to spend their money.
It’s like a knife is twisting and turning in my gut, slashing through my organs. The pain doesn’t intensify, but it doesn’t subside, either. It’s like a calm ocean with a few big waves coming and going.
Hudson grabs my hand and squeezes it, and it gives me a little reassurance.
By the time everyone is seated, I manage to collect myself. A couple of deep breaths and hard belief in my skills proves to be enough to at least make my instincts sharper than normal. My ears perk at the couple sitting next to me as they discuss their recent merchandise.
Hudson stiffens at their words, but I squeeze his hand. We’re both reassuring each other and trying our best to keep the other in check. Soon, this will become far worse than it is now.
Chills spread down my body, and I feel someone staring at me. My face cannot be seen because of the dark veil, so I nonchalantly tilt my head upward. From the second floor a man is staring right at me.
He has his face covered in nothing but a simple, black mask. His suit is quite impressive, and he’s holding a glass of champagne in his hand. He tilts his head to the side and even from this distance, I can see the sadistic smirk on his face.
He’s only watching me. Not anyone else here. He’s not even glancing at the man at my feet—just me. And it’s terrifying. It’s as if he knows something about me. Or rather, Madam Giselle.
And I don’t know which one is scarier.
He’s definitely too important to sit with the rest of us, so I immediately connect the dots. That man is The Silencer. The man who I’ve been searching for is right there, and I can’t do anything about it.
It’s like he knows I’m interested in him. Slowly, he takes a step back, his taunting gaze never leaving my face. An arrogant smirk is on his face, and he releases a subtle laugh.
The motherfucker is enjoying this.
“Alright, I’m in.” Lucas releases a small sigh of relief. “Woah,” he mumbles. “That’s… a cage?”
I glance at the camera, though he can’t see my face. However, he can read my body language. That’s something he’s exceptionally good at.
“Noelle, your signal will be to either speak if you can, or tap your forearm twice if you can’t. It will send the teams your way. Right now, they’re four miles away. They’re ditching the cars soon and will arrive on foot.”
They’re all quick, and I know they’ll be here in record time. They have to be. Nothing can go wrong tonight. If it does, a lot of lives will be lost, and I will never be able to forgive myself. Incompetence is not allowed.
“Lyla and Niko just split up.” Lucas keeps me updated every ten minutes. “Niko’s team will surround the nearby forest and wait for any attempts to escape.”
I bring one of my hands beneath the veil and cough.
“Are there any cameras in the basement—” cough, “or on the top floor?”
“Top floor, yes. Basement, no. I can’t spend time now to look back at the footage, Noelle. It will have to wait until you’re out of there.”
He’s right.
I know that.
But why am I being pulled toward the basement? I can assume all the horror and terror that lies beneath the stairs, and I can’t ignore it. I’m not a saint; I never claimed to be one.
I’ve killed and tortured more people than I can remember. Somewhere along the road, all the faces got blurred, and I no longer remember their names. If I had to guess, I’d say that my body count is well above a hundred already.
I’m no different than the monsters here.
I tell myself that it’s for the job only but when did I completely stop caring about taking people’s lives? Their dead eyes don’t haunt me. The blood that I carry on my hands doesn’t stain me.
Yet, when I think that I cannot possibly be different than the rest of the people here, my blood starts boiling. The fury builds inside of me until I’m no longer able to control it.
But I have to.
For the sake of everyone here.
For my sake, too.
The soft music stops playing, and I straighten my back. Hudson looks up at me, eyes filled with determination. He’s silently telling me that it will all be okay and that it will be over soon.
I try to believe it.
I try to ignore the terrible nausea that builds in the back of my throat.
Because as soon as the music stops, the lights go out. There’s a reflector shining directly onto the cage. A tall, muscular, masked man steps to the front. He holds a microphone in his hand and since his entire face is covered, I’m unable to catch even a glimpse of his face.
“Good evening.” All the murmurs and whispers stop when he starts speaking. “Tonight, after a long time, we’ve brought quite a few interesting items. The bidding will now begin.”
Everyone around me prepares their numbers. I can feel their excitement, the rush of adrenaline that pours into the room. My eyes are locked on the man with the microphone as he walks over to the big, red curtain and grabs it.
My eyes find Hudson’s. The Hudson who is sweet and tender with me is now long gone. The murderous intent is evident, and I’m grateful not to be on the receiving end of his wrath. I never saw it until now because my arrogance knows no bounds, but a furious Hudson is a dangerous Hudson.
He briefly closes his eyes and while he’s sitting on the cold, concrete floor, he readjusts himself so that he’s staring ahead. I’m clutching the chain in my hands, holding onto it like it’s my lifeline.
“The market will now commence.”