Chapter 8
Sienna
I exhaled the smoke from my cigarette as dawn slowly crept in.
I shivered, the cool morning air brushing against the skin exposed by my nightdress.
My gaze wandered over the club’s inner courtyard, the floor of the inner courtyard was actually the club’s roof.
I was on the second floor, standing in front of my suite’s door, waiting. Waiting patiently.
My eyes dropped to my bare feet just as Kenji suddenly bent down, placing my slippers beside them while casting a dark look my way. I sighed, rolling my eyes, but slipped them on anyway as he stepped back, pressing himself against the wall once more.
“Sienna?” a voice breathed behind me as the suite door opened, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Esme step out, pulling a cardigan over her nightgown.
“You stayed here last night? I didn’t hear you come back,” she said as she joined me at the railing while I took another drag.
“I arrived late,” I replied, scratching at my throat.
I rarely smoked, very rarely, but I needed this one, which was probably why Kenji hadn’t snatched it from my hand yet.
“Why didn’t you go home?” my friend asked, crossing her arms over the railing.
Home? Was the Ivanovs’ house really my home?
Wasn’t home where family was? Where the heart lived, my mother had once told me that.
A blue-eyed Russian suddenly flashed through my mind, and I closed my eyes with a grimace, rubbing my forehead with the hand holding the cigarette.
Damn it. I had to stop. He had said he would respect my choice, that he wouldn’t come near me anymore, so why didn’t I feel any better?
I stubbed out my cigarette against the railing and flicked the butt away, “I didn’t want to miss the show,” I said, straightening just as a scream echoed between the walls.
Esme jumped, spinning toward the door that flew open across the courtyard, on the opposite side.
Edouard stumbled out, his clothes soaked in blood, especially his trousers.
“They cut it off!” he shouted, collapsing against the wall, the anesthesia still leaving him weak.
“No! They cut it off!” he sobbed as the club’s residents slowly gathered on the balconies to see what was happening.
I felt my Shadow move closer behind me as I slowly lifted my eyes to the top floor.
My gaze locked with the Master’s, he was already watching me.
Bare-chested, barely awake, and furious, so fucking furious.
But he could rage all he wanted. I would not let him hurt those girls, I would not let him hire a pedophile and place him near children.
Not while I was alive. My lips curved into a slow smile as I lifted my chin, proud and I turned away, a satisfaction I hadn’t felt in a long time seizing me.
They wanted me to be Stella?
The monster he had created?
The madwoman he had pushed me to become?
Then I would give them exactly that.
—
“Sienna!” Anjali cried out as I stepped out of the car after Ashwin opened my door.
She threw herself into my arms, and I held her tightly.
“I’m so happy you could come!” she said, pulling back as I took her hands, “I would never have missed your wedding, Anji. Look at you, you’re radiant,” I told her, and it was true.
Her long dark hair was braided down her back, her eyes sparkled, and her skin glowed.
“Your mehendi is beautiful,” I added, admiring her hands adorned with intricate henna designs, a tradition in their culture.
“You arrived just in time! We’re doing the Haldi tonight, before the wedding tomorrow!
” she said, tugging me inside the large villa.
I winced when the skin where Selina had placed the CGM tugged painfully, but it was manageable, something I would get used to.
At first, I had refused. It was more of an inconvenience than anything else to me; I always knew my symptoms before a crisis hit.
But seeing my sister’s worry, I had eventually agreed, at least until the birth.
She would be able to monitor my blood sugar levels. She would be reassured, at least.
I glanced over my shoulder and briefly met Kenji’s mocking gaze as he chatted with Ashwin and Kamal.
They were like brothers, only natural, after everything we had been through together.
Just like Anjali and Ganesh’s entire family, who had become a part of ours.
They had all opened their arms to us, welcoming us and, above all, teaching us.
Seven Years Earlier, Las Vegas
It had been almost two months since we had left the institute and were now living in one of the Master’s clubs, right in the heart of Las Vegas. We were surrounded by hotels, casinos, attractions. The city never slept, day or night, and we had very few breaks.
“Stella, a new client! Hurry up, he’s a VIP close to the Master,” Joana called from the entrance of our suite, which I shared with the girls, as I stepped out of the shower.
I had just finished with a client. I was exhausted, and above all, starving.
By some miracle, Joana had obtained the Master’s permission to leave the institute and come with us, and now she managed us.
“I just finished with a client…”, “I can send Inès?” she cut in, her voice echoing through the room, she knew perfectly well that I was trying to protect the youngest girls, that I did everything I could to keep them as safe as possible, “I’m coming,” I replied simply.
I sighed and hurried to get ready. I slipped on the only clean nightgown I had left, I would have to ask the cleaning woman to hurry up with the others.
I started applying my makeup, my hands trembling, “Sienna!” Ava suddenly shouted.
I startled as she rushed into the bathroom, breathless.
Her hair was a mess, her makeup smudged, her minidress crooked, and she was barefoot.
She must have just finished with a client too.
“You’re the one handling the VIP client?
” she asked, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me like a rag doll while I frowned at her.
“Yes. Why?” “Oh my God,” she breathed, stepping back, worry written all over her face as she pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“Some of the girls saw him go into the Master’s office, Sienna.
They said he… he was horrible. Old. Limping,” she paced the small room nervously.
“He’s one of the most powerful godfathers in India, Sienna.
There are rumors that he’s covered in burn scars after an attack that killed his entire family,” she whispered, coming back to grip my hands.
I felt fear creep into my chest, but I pushed it down.
I refused to feel anything. I refused to be weak.
It was a promise I had made to myself while waiting for Kenji to wake up after he got his scar.
I would no longer let my emotions control me. I would no longer make mistakes.
“We’ve seen worse. And we’ll probably see even worse,” I replied with a shrug, turning back to the mirror and resuming my makeup with a weary gesture.
Old, ugly, fat, scarred, it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered anymore. I was never getting out of here.
I was never going to save my sister. It was too late.
There was no hope left. Not for her. Not for me.
Ava watched me for a moment, then left the suite in silence, the door closing softly behind her.
—
“Good evening, sir,” I said in the deep, gentle voice they had taught us at the institute.
I closed the bedroom door behind me, leaving my Shadow in the hallway, before glancing at the stocky man sitting on the edge of the large bed.
I began untying the belt of my satin robe.
“My name is Stella. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.
Do you have any preferences, sir?” I asked as I removed the elastic holding my hair back.
Clients’ preferences were normally communicated to us beforehand…
but this time everything had been rushed.
I would have to improvise. When he didn’t respond, I frowned and turned to look at him.
I couldn’t see his face, his head was bowed toward the floor, his forehead resting against his cane.
“Sir?” I called again. "How old are you?
" he suddenly asked me in a gruff voice, and I froze.
No one had ever asked me that question before.
Faced with my silence, he sat up straight, and I struggled to resist taking a step back when I saw the ugly scar running down his neck and disappearing under his shirt.
"It doesn't matter, sir. Would you like me to undress you?
" I replied calmly, taking a step toward him, but froze when he slowly tilted his head to one side and fixed his empty gaze on mine.
It was as empty as mine, two beings who no longer expected anything from life.
"Seventeen," I replied without thinking, meeting his gaze.
"Seventeen," he repeated, shaking his head gently.
"What a waste," he sighed, which made me smile, a wry smile.
"Most of the girls here are young, sometimes even younger than me.
You think we're wasting our lives, but you don't mind screwing us," I retorted, crossing my arms, a retort that would surely earn me punishment if anyone heard it, but I couldn't help myself, being belittled like that after being used.
And this one hadn't even waited until the end to show his disdain.