Chapter 6
Sienna
I clutched the first aid kit on my lap as silence reigned in the cabin.
Kenji's tense body behind the wheel stressed me out, but I ignored him.
I ignored him completely. I couldn't believe he had betrayed me, that he had talked to Sasha about me.
"Sienna..." he began, but I cut him off.
"What did you tell him ?" I asked, keeping my face turned toward the window.
"Did you tell him how I get fucked?” The tires screeched as he braked and pulled over to the side of the road.
I clung to my seatbelt, breathing heavily and rapidly.
I was so angry, I felt betrayed, once again in this fucking life.
"Look at me, Enna," he said softly, and I pressed my lips together in response to that deep voice that had guided me even in the darkest moments.
Even when there was no hope left. I slowly turned my face toward his, and my lips trembled when my gaze fell on his scar.
"You betrayed me," I said, and despite my best efforts to remain cold and firm, my voice broke, his hands slid against my cheeks instantly as he shook his head.
"Never. Never, Sienna, never," he said, his desperate gaze diving into mine, "I'd rather die than betray you.
You know that." Did I know? Yes, better than anyone.
Wasn't that what he had done when we barely knew each other, when he could have hated me.
Eight years earlier, Las Vegas
I watched the clock hanging on the wall ticking away, its sound, which I had found annoying when I arrived, now a sweet melody.
I clutched my mother's pendant in my hand, the only thing I had left, the only thing I hadn't put in the backpack that Esteban had stolen.
I sat on the edge of my bed, knowing it was almost time.
I had been here for almost three months, in this institute for women, three months learning how to manipulate and charm a man.
Three months learning all the tactics to use in bed to satisfy a man, three months learning how to mask and hide our emotions, three months trying to survive.
Surviving the training, but also the competition.
My eyes fell on the sleeping forms of my roommates.
There were six of us in total, six young women whose destinies had led us here, to this pit where we had to tear each other apart to rise above.
My gaze stopped on the girl next to me and I clenched my teeth as despair seized me again, so young, even younger than I was.
The memory of our meeting struck me, my first day within these walls.
I followed the woman who had greeted me at the entrance.
She hadn't said a word, just nodded her head.
The corridors we walked through were dark and cold, with several closed doors that didn't inspire confidence.
Our footsteps echoed as she turned into another corridor.
She was old, with short white hair and a wrinkled face.
Her stooped, plump body was dressed in a dull blue dress with an apron tied around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure I was following her as we reached some steps, which she began to climb.
She held onto the railing, and I frowned as I watched her take the steps one by one, grunting with effort.
She was struggling. I stayed behind her, and we climbed the steps slowly, one by one, until we were almost at the top when she suddenly stumbled.
My body moved before my brain could think, and I grabbed her arm to pull her up, despite my body's protests.
Her brown eyes plunged into mine, and I saw a spark of surprise shining in them.
She ended up pressing her thin lips together before turning away and shaking her head.
I said nothing and simply followed her, finally arriving on the upper floor.
We walked down another hallway and finally arrived in a room that my eyes quickly scanned.
There were six beds, each with a metal wardrobe at the head.
And there was a long window stretching along the wall through which we could see an empty, arid desert.
And that was all there was in this lifeless, cold room.
There were already young women inside, some talking among themselves, others simply sitting on one of the many beds.
The old woman motioned for me to enter, which I did with a hesitant step.
She finally left, closing the door behind me and all eyes suddenly turned to me, and I didn't know what to do.
A heavy silence fell as I clenched my jaw and lifted my chin.
I couldn't let them see my fear, my hesitation.
I had no doubt that a single drop of blood would be enough for them to tear me to pieces.
"My name is Stella," I introduced myself in a calm voice, thankfully giving nothing away.
My gaze met that of a brunette who was talking to another woman.
She got up from the bed and walked towards me.
The first thing I noticed was that she was older than me. In fact, everyone looked older than me.
The woman stopped in front of me, her hazel eyes analyzing my face before she held out her hand to me, "Esme," she said with a slight smile.
I looked down at her hand; it was trembling.
I looked back into her eyes and saw my reflection there.
My feelings, my fear, she was as afraid as I was.
I slipped my hand into hers. It was cold and clammy, like mine.
She was like me. They were all like me. I smiled back at her as our trembling hands clasped together.
I had chatted a little with all the girls.
There was Esme, Diane, Ava, and Wendy. They were all friendly except for Wendy, who was cold, but it wasn't personal; she behaved the same way with all of us.
An hour later, the door opened and two women and a man entered.
One of the women was the old lady who had accompanied me.
"Welcome, ladies. Line up," said the second woman in a confident voice, her eagle eye scanning each of us as we lined up like little puppies.
She was tall, over five foot seven, and must have been in her forties.
But unlike the Mother, who had made great efforts to hide her age, this woman remained elegant.
Her natural beauty was captivating, not to mention her blue eyes that were tinged with gray.
Her graying brown hair was tied back in a strict bun at the nape of her neck.
She furrowed her pretty eyebrows and scanned us once more.
"One is missing. Where is she?" she asked, glancing at the old woman, who looked around the room before stopping at the bed at the far end.
She limped over and opened the bedside cabinet.
My breath caught in my throat as she dragged a young girl by the arm to us, even more so than I already was.
The old woman pushed her next to me and she let herself be led, trembling, her eyes fixed on the floor.
"Good," said the elegant woman. "I am Joana, the madam.
I will be responsible for your training for the next ten months," she introduced herself before nodding toward the old woman.
"This is Olga. If you have any problems with your rooms, your food, or your clothes, tell her.
And this is Igor. He is responsible for security," she pointed to the man behind her.
He was tall and muscular and looked younger than Joana.
I didn't like the vibe he gave off. His eyes scanned us one by one, lingering on me when his gaze met mine.
I didn't look away, holding his dark gaze.
I ignored my fear, ignored my instincts screaming at me to lower my head.
I couldn't be afraid, I couldn't hide, otherwise I would never be able to save my sister.
I had to become a monster, and what better way than to stare at one?