Chapter 4 Confession 4 #3
The bolt slid back, and the door slammed open.
Soldiers poured in, rifles leveled, movements precise.
Kane cursed under his breath, dropping from his bunk.
Thorne swung down beside me, one arm instinctively braced in front of my chest, but the muzzles made it clear there would be no room for defiance.
“Hands behind your heads.”
Cold cuffs snapped shut around my wrists. I caught Rafe’s face as they shoved him forward, his jaw tight and eyes distant.
We were marched single file through corridors that all looked the same.
There was nothing but concrete, white lights, and steel doors with numbers instead of names.
Then the hallway widened, spilling into a chamber twice the size of Viktor’s courtyard but colder, emptier.
Rows of soldiers stood along the walls, visors blank, rifles upright.
Above them, a glass balcony stretched across the far wall, tinted black and reflective enough I made out our distorted lineup.
Then a man stepped up to the balcony’s rail. His hands braced on either side of him, he peered down with an expression as cold as the fucking building, black-peppered hair gelled back and dark suit clean cut.
The weight of the room shifted with his presence, every soldier stiffening like a string had been pulled tight through their spines. His gaze tracked us one by one, deliberate, assessing.
“Step forward,” he said at last.
Rafe went first, shoulders squared, chin tilted, every inch the soldier Viktor had carved him into. Kane followed, cocky grin plastered on his face even with his wrists bound. Thorne stepped up silent, hands loose, eyes unreadable.
Then me.
His gaze found mine. I didn’t drop my stare, but every muscle in me screamed to look away.
“One billion,” he said, his gaze sliding over me, then the boys. “And five hundred million more for the Creed.”
The number hit like a verdict, echoing across the chamber. I swallowed, my pulse rattling hard in my throat.
“You will earn every cent over the next year. Am I understood?” he announced. When we didn’t answer, he leaned against the balcony. “This is where you say, ‘Yes, sir’.”
Kane, Thorne, and I repeated the words almost robotically. It wasn’t the first time we’d been commanded to address a Buyer as sir or ma’am. Rafe, however, didn’t say anything. I wondered if he’d even understood.
Our Buyer glared down at him, and a few soldiers raised their guns, aiming at Rafe.
He glanced over at us, then toward the guns and up toward our Buyer.
His throat worked, his eyes widening only slightly.
No one besides us who knew Rafe would’ve noticed, but he was clearly unsettled.
He may have been sold off more than us, but it was new for him, too. The grandeur of it all.
My lips parted. I wasn’t sure what to do.
If I told our Buyer that Rafe was deaf, I could be sentencing him to death.
I doubt after what the Buyer paid that he'd take kindly to being sold someone with a disability, even if Rafe was the strongest of all of us. Although I didn’t care what happened to Viktor, I did care what happened to Leah.
As long as she was at that house, then that meant protecting Viktor, too.
So I took a timid step forward, one foot in front of the guys, my knuckles brushing Rafe’s, and dropped to a knee. I bowed my head, tilting my face to the side and giving Thorne and Kane a pointed look. Both brothers followed suit, and thankfully, so did Rafe.
It was enough to appease the Buyer. Guns lowered, and his next words were sharp.
“My name is Halden,” he said. “You will call me Mr. Halden or sir. Nothing else.”
He let that settle before he went on, his tone quiet enough that the silence of the chamber made every word sound heavier.
“You’ve been groomed. Beaten. Sold.” His gaze swept across us, lingering where I knelt in front. “Viktor believed that was enough to make you lethal. But Viktor was short-sighted. Violence without discipline burns out. I don’t invest in things that burn out.”
He straightened, one hand brushing his tie into place.
“For the next year, you will be field-tested. Every skill, every weakness, every limit you think you’ve learned under Viktor will be stripped back and measured.
You are not here for pleasure. You are not here for any specific assignment.
You are here to prove that the Creed name has value, and if it does, then we can talk about a more permanent situation. ”
Permanent. All four of us stiffened at the word.
His eyes locked on me, steady and cold. “And that includes you, girl. Doll or Creed—makes no difference to me. If you survive what I put you through, I will decide what you are.”
Rifles shifted as if punctuating his words.
Halden leaned against the rail again, unhurried.
“At the end of this year, you will be worth far more than the billion I paid. You’ll be entirely one-of-a-kind.
Soldiers that can’t be argued with.” His dark, hazel eyes combed over our blank, carefully curated faces.
“I can be a generous man. You give me what I want, and I’ll make sure all four of you never worry about a penny again.
So look around. Look long and hard. You can stay kneeling on the ground for me and you can call the wealth you see your own, or one of those guns can put you out of your misery. The choice is yours.”
We all remained silent.
“Very good.” Halden’s lips drew back in a wide, shining smile. “Let’s test the product then, shall we?”