Chapter 57
Violet
Jürgen was silent as he walked behind me, forcing me to follow Caretaker through the winding corridors of the estate. The entire place felt off. As if everything was just too perfect.
Or that could be my anxiety creeping in, making my palms slick as I tried to keep pace without stumbling. Ornate paintings lined the walls, and gold accents trimmed every corner, every handle, and every edge. It was as if someone had gone to great lengths to project wealth and taste.
And yet… the windows were still boarded shut.
Finally, Caretaker came to a stop before a door with a hunting painting hanging heavily beside it, all teeth, blood, and grinning hounds. Without looking back, Caretaker slid a keycard against the black panel mounted in the frame.
A soft electronic beep, followed by the sound of whimpers.
The door opened with a quiet hiss, and I found myself moving forward as if my legs didn’t belong to me, looking over the metal banister to stare at the row of people chained to the wall a floor below.
Jürgen cleared his throat behind me, urging me down the stairs.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice painfully quiet.
“They’re the newest trainees,” Caretaker replied smoothly, almost bored. “Their owners have handed them over to me temporarily.”
My stomach lurched. “Owners?”
“They’re dolls,” he said with open disdain, glancing down at the nearest woman.
She wore a choker similar to the one still tight around my throat. Her mask was gone, her dress torn at the shoulder and eyes wide with terror.
“Please…” she whimpered, snot smearing her upper lip. “I’m sorry… tell him I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Her trembling hand reached toward his shoe. He sighed, as if it was an inconvenience, and stepped on her fingers instead.
“Stop it!” I cried as she screamed, the others recoiling instinctively. Five women. Two men. All of them shaking. “They’re not toys to be bought!”
“I don’t buy them, but they are toys.” He pressed harder until with his heel, breaking her skin when he removed his foot.
“I’ve been hired to train these dolls. My programme is rigorous, and I always deliver results.
They arrive weak, undisciplined. But some time under my regime will fix that.
They’ll become obedient. Silent. Ready to fulfil every demand placed on them. Only then will they be returned.”
“They’re people!” I screamed as a hand encircled my upper arm, and I was dragged back up the stairs, Jürgen keeping me tight to his side as we returned to the hallway.
“They’re nothing but holes,” Caretaker said coldly, closing the door with a click behind him. “They exist to be used. Bred. That’s all they’re good for.”
This couldn’t be real.
“Das Abendessen ist fertig,” Jürgen said beside me, pushing me forward.
“Ist unser Gast vorbereitet worden?” Caretaker replied, almost as if it was a question. At Jürgen’s nod, he added, “Sehr gut.”
I would’ve stumbled if not for Jürgen’s iron grip hauling me upright. Without slowing, he shoved me forward into what appeared to be a dining room, a long table dominating the space, set with a golden candelabra that cast wavering light across polished wood.
“Mum!” I screamed, finding her on her knees, head bowed forward. I shoved at Jürgen, breaking free, only to fall before her. “Mum, are you okay?”
She didn’t react when I reached for her, brushing her hair from her face to find her eyes were wet, hard.
“Sit down, Raena,” Caretaker ordered, voice stern.
“I’m not fucking Raena!” The words scraped out of my throat.
Jürgen yanked mum’s head back, forcing her to look up while I was dragged to my feet.
“I said, sit down,” he snarled this time, throwing me down in the chair while Jürgen held mum.
She glared through her hair, lips lifting into a snarl. She was completely naked, wounds from the whip open and red.
“You really thought stealing all that data would protect you, but look at you now,” he sneered down at mum. “Without an ounce of evidence, and exactly where you’re supposed to be.” Caretaker clicked his fingers, sitting in his own chair opposite. “Serve us.”
Mum took a moment to respond, her movements rigid as if she hurt. Bruises were already blossoming, mottling her pale skin. I couldn’t stop my tears from falling, the taste bitter on my tongue.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she, Violet?” he said, and it took me a moment to realise he wasn’t speaking to me. He was speaking to her. “Exactly how I pictured her.”
“Mum…” was all I could manage, my voice splintered. “Mum… please.”
But she didn’t respond, reaching for the wine bottle and carefully pouring him a glass. She wouldn’t meet my eyes when she served me, her arms shaking.
“I think Emil will be happy with the way she’s grown, although he’d have preferred her younger.” He removed his bowtie entirely and placed the fabric onto the table beside his cutlery. “He’s already been informed she’s back, and I’m sure he’ll be waiting once we land.”
Mum stiffened, eyes widening in horror. “No,” she whispered, more of an exhale of air.
“Who’s Emil?” I managed to ask, ignoring the food that Jürgen placed down in front of me as if we were at some formal dinner.
“Well, he’s your owner.” He lifted the wine glass to the light, the red clinging to the rim like blood. “Over two decades I’ve owed him this life-debt, and now that you’re home, I can finally settle it.”
“Life-debt?” The words felt heavy on my tongue. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “Once upon a time, there was an… incident. One of my more powerful clients believed I’d stolen from him.” He swirled the glass. “His doll got pregnant while under my training.”
“With me?”
Caretaker laughed, the sound harsh. “Yes. A miscalculation I had no intention of confessing. But then your mother died and, well…” He spread his hands.
“Suddenly, the misunderstanding became a very real offence. You see, she was his favourite doll. He had a thing for small blondes, and it had taken him years to find one that fits his… tastes. So when she died, he was rather displeased. Blamed me, of course.”
“Please, please, please, no,” mum whispered in horror.
“As I said, he is one of my more powerful clients. And when a man like that becomes disappointed… he becomes dangerous.”
“So you sold me to save yourself? I was a baby!” I cried.
His eyes flicked to me, steady and unblinking. “It was more of a promise. He agreed to spare me if I handed over you, the perfect substitute.”
My mouth went dry. Every part of me screamed to run, but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.
“You were her copy, and more importantly, you were a blank slate. Imagine having your doll trained from so young? Knowing nothing but obedience? Trained exclusively for him.”
I shook my head, barely able to whisper, “I wasn’t raised for anything like this.”
“All whores are raised for this. Just ask Violet.”
I turned toward mum, but she refused to look at me, her hands clenching around the bottle of wine so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Now, imagine his disappointment when you were taken.” His mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “He nearly killed me for it. But,” he went on, “we came to an agreement. One that left me with a very large debt hanging over my head. And now, I finally get to pay it off.”
“So what, you’re going to train me?” I asked, the question hollow. “Make me beg like a dog?”
“Not right away,” he said. “It seems Emil wants the honour of breaking you in himself, before you’re formally returned for training.”
“He doesn’t get to touch her!” Mum finally hissed, stepping forward to throw the remaining wine. Red splashed across Caretaker’s shirt, dripping down like blood.
I sat frozen as he yanked her onto his lap, pinning her by her throat.
“Still jealous I see, Violet,” he grunted as she fought. With a click of his fingers, Jürgen stepped forward with a knife.
“No!” I shot to my feet, but Caretaker reacted instantly.
He grabbed mum’s head, forcing it to the side while Jürgen lifted a blade and sliced off her hair in one brutal swipe.
“Sit down,” Caretaker snarled, “or the next cut won’t be her hair.”
I collapsed back into the chair so fast my knees nearly buckled.
“She’ll need to be retrained,” he said coldly. “Which means we start from the beginning.” Releasing her, she crumpled to the floor beside him. A broken sound escaped her, a half sob, half gasp as her fingers trembled through the jagged strands of her hair.
Jürgen looked down his nose at her. “That’s assuming we can find a placement for someone her age.”
“You’re right,” Caretaker sighed, already reaching for his knife and fork as if this was a casual dinner conversation. “If not, she’ll be given to the men for free use.” He sliced into his steak.
I sat there, shaking as mum sobbed, the sounds almost a dry heave. I’d never felt hate like it. Not toward a person. Not toward anything.
My hands curled into fists in my lap.
After a few minutes, the clatter of cutlery hit ceramic. “You’re not eating.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“You’ll eat,” he replied calmly, “or I’ll hurt her.”
My stomach twisted, but I picked up my fork and immediately stabbed a potato.
“Good,” Caretaker murmured. “Obedience always comes easier when you have something to lose.” He watched me for a moment, eyes sharp and assessing. “Are you disgusted that she named you Violet? It’s the name I gave her when she first came to me for training. She cried then too, when I cut her hair.”
My grip tightened around the fork.
“It affects most of them,” he continued, picking up his wine glass. “The girls especially. Shaving their head, denying them the prettiness they hide behind… it strips away their pride. Their sense of self. Once that’s gone, they stop fighting who they really are.”
He smiled, waiting for me to comment.
I didn’t.
“See? You’re already learning.” He smirked.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” mum whispered, barely audible. “Please.”
Jürgen stepped forward, but Caretaker lifted his hand for him to stop. “Tell her how you stole a child with the intention of selling her to the highest bidder.”
Mum’s head snapped up, eyes wide and shining. “No… no… no.”
“Tell her how you arranged a buyer long before you ever decided to run. Because deep down, you couldn’t stand that she was special, when you were nothing.”
Mum sobbed, her voice breaking apart. “Please… stop. Please…”
“Enough,” I snapped.
I didn’t want to hear any more. But Caretaker wasn’t finished.
“Now,” he continued with a gloat, “tell her how you’re the one that killed her birth mother.”
My breath caught, and mum’s sobs went still.
“Mum?” I whispered after a moment, her eyes wet when they met mine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back. “I didn’t mean—”
“Of course you meant it,” Caretaker barked. “You poisoned her tea. She was vulnerable, lying there only hours after giving birth, and you brought her that drink. Forced her to take it.”
“I didn’t—”
“Come here, Violet,” he snapped, pointing to the floor beside the chair. “On your knees.”
My hands shook, rage coiling tight in my chest.
But after a moment, with a shuddering breath, mum obeyed. She crawled. Each movement tearing at the raw, broken skin along her back, blood trailing in thin lines as she inched closer to his side.
When she reached the chair, she sank back on her heels, shoulders curled inward like she could make herself smaller.
Caretaker looked down at her with a smile that made bile rise in my throat.
“You always were a jealous little thing,” he mused. “Fighting with the others whenever they got more attention than you. It’s why you were sent to me not once, but twice. Pathetic, really.”
Baring her teeth, mum reached up for the same knife he’d used to cut his steak and drove the blade down in a frenzy. Caretaker barely raised his arms in time, the steel slicing across his forearm as mum screeched like a woman possessed.
He had her disarmed and pinned to the table in seconds, his hands around her throat.
This time, I didn’t stay sitting. I lunged at him, slamming my shoulder into his side with every ounce of strength I had. Caretaker snarled and struck out blindly, pushing me back until Jürgen grabbed me from behind and hauled me back.
“STOP IT!” I screamed, thrashing against Jürgen’s hold, but he didn’t budge.
Caretaker’s fingers tightening around mum’s throat as she scrambled and fought.
“PLEASE!” I begged, but I could do nothing but watch as Caretaker strangled mum until she was limp, her head rolling to the side and her arms falling lifeless on the table.
I let out a sob, unable to keep it back. “Mum…”
Caretaker glared down at her for a moment, before turning to me with an expression of thunder. “Lock her in a room,” he snarled, lifting his arms to try and stem the blood flow. “We’ll leave for the airport in an hour.”