by Nicole Fox
Because of the mask I can’t see his face, but I feel his body tense underneath me. “I thought Milaya might be with you.”
My heart shrivels in my chest.
It is a wonder I am still alive at all.
The heat that was flooding through me only a moment ago because of Luka’s finger turns to ice.
When I saw Luka, I assumed he’d saved Milaya first.
It hadn’t even crossed my mind to be worried about her anymore because I was sure that Luka had her. Surely. Like a spy from a thriller novel, I knew beyond doubt that he’d come to save me dressed in a designer suit, wearing a masquerade mask. But I was sure that he knew I could handle myself long enough for him to find our daughter first.
I am the daughter of a Mafia don, after all. This world, while cruel, is what I know. Milaya is the innocent one. Milaya is helpless.
Realizing neither of us has any idea where our daughter is feels like a kick to the chest when I’m already down as low as I’ve ever been.
But I don’t have time to linger on the thoughts threatening to choke the air from my lungs. At the urging of the master of ceremonies, Luka escorts me into the dining room behind the rest of the women and guests.
I expected a large room with one long table, however the dining room is set up almost like a restaurant. Scattered around the space are small tables with two chairs each and small candles flickering in the middle. Naturally, everyone walks in and begins to pair off.
This pairing becomes part of the festivities. Men jostle to sit with the woman they have their eye on, hoping to get more time with them. More than one man looks in my direction, but Luka doesn’t leave my side.
I wonder whether I shouldn’t go with someone else. Not only to help with our deception but because I’m not sure what to say to Luka right now. As happy as I am to see him here, I’d rather know Milaya is safe. I only blame myself for this entire situation happening in the first place, but I blame Luka for Milaya still being missing, and I’m not exactly sure how to navigate that emotional minefield.
There isn’t much room for debate, however, when Luka leads me to a table near the corner of the room and pulls out my chair for me.
As I sit, he glares over at the man with the bird mask, making sure to mark his territory.
Luka orders for both of us, which is fine with me. Even if I looked at a menu, I wouldn’t be able to focus on it. There is only one thought in my head:
Where is my daughter?
At the Morrison house, I only saw Rian, her father, and a driver. How many people could be working for them? Could Milaya be with one of them? I never saw Rian’s mother, so maybe Milaya is staying with her, though that thought isn’t exactly comforting. Everyone in the Morrison family hates me, so it is unlikely they will be kind to my daughter.
Before the food arrives, Luka reaches across the table and lays his hand down, palm facing up.
I look around the room to be certain no one is watching before I lay my hand over his.
His hand is warm, and he curls his fingers around mine, and though I’m angry and upset, I love him. So much. And having him here with me during one of the scariest times of my life is reassuring in more ways than I can express.
When waiters begin bringing the food out, Luka takes his hand back and puts on an air of indifference. I match his tone.
We eat mostly in silence. The tables in the room are close together and I am afraid to say something that could be overheard by someone else. It is more than just my life at stake now. If the Cartel discovers why Luka is here, they could be upset. And they don’t seem to be the kind of people who will simply kick him out.
They’ll probably just kill him.
And if he dies, and I’m sold into slavery, who will search for Milaya?
The Bratva, maybe, but I don’t know how long they’ll keep up the search. They are loyal to Luka now, but once they have a new leader, there is no way to know how long that loyalty will last.
“You seem to be a man with a lot of power,” I say softly, pushing the cheesy pasta around my plate.
Luka narrows his eyes at me and nods.
“A man in charge of a lot of men?” I ask. “How are they surviving while you are away for five days?”
Luka sees my question for what it is. “They are waiting anxiously for the fifth day. They are lost without me.”
They are waiting.
I stare at Luka, trying to see if there is anything he is holding back, but he is waiting for me to speak.
The men are just waiting for Luka. They aren’t looking for Milaya or pursuing any leads.
My heart falls, and I stab a noodle with my fork. “It would be horrible to be that helpless. Me? I know how to take care of myself.”
I glare at Luka over my water glass, and I can see in the flicker of pain across his face that he understands me. He leans forward, his green eyes shining and serious.
“You can take care of yourself?” he hisses, sitting back in his seat and looking around the room. “How is that going for you?”
My jaw drops.
The rest of dinner is uncomfortably silent, broken only by the sound of silverware clinking against our dinner plates.
The man hosting the event, Edgar, ushers everyone from the dining room to a large ballroom at the back of the inn.
The walls are high and painted a pale gold color. Large chandeliers hang from three points along the room, and there are stained glass windows along the back wall. If I wasn’t being held prisoner, I’d think it was a beautiful place for a party.
Music plays softly through speakers located in every corner of the room, and once everyone is inside, the lights are dimmed and another bar is set up.
It is clear the intention is for everyone to get loose, though for all of the other women I can see, that seems impossible.
Only the woman before me in line, Thirteen, seems to be having even a remotely good time.
As soon as the lights dim, she moves to the center of the dance floor, dragging a guest by his tie, and begins to dance. Her enthusiasm encourages the other guests to find women of their own and make their way to the middle of the room.
The female bidders are less interested in the festivities and stand against the wall, content with studying the proceedings.
Out of all of the people present, I’m most scared at the prospect of being purchased by one of the women. With the men, it is clear what my purpose would be. But with the women, I’m not sure.
And, like the saying goes, the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.
Luka takes a half-hearted lap around the room before making his way back to me and dragging me out to the dance floor.
I’m still angry with him. For not trusting me. For coming to save me before he looked for Milaya. For telling me to my face that he doesn’t think I can take care of myself.
However, as soon as we are together on the dance floor, hidden in a crowd of other people, with music pulsing all around us, I can’t begrudge my body what it wants: to be near him.
Luka wraps an arm around my lower back and jerks my body against his. Our hips crash and grind together in time with the music, and I tip my head back, letting my hair shake loose.
Luka groans, and I lift my head to see him staring at my chest. His eyes inch up slowly until our gazes meet, and he shakes his head.
“I’d appreciate it if you could be less sexy,” he says as quietly as possible while still being heard over the music. “You are making my job more difficult with every man you make interested in you.”
“No one is paying any attention to me,” I say.
Luka raises an eyebrow and tips his head to his right. I follow his gaze and see the man in the bird mask staring at me. He has a woman held in the circle of his arms, her back against his chest while she grinds into him.
But his eyes are locked on me.
I turn into Luka quickly, feeling sick. The momentary high I got from being close to him is fading, being washed
away by dread.
“Even if we get out of here, they can hold Milaya over our heads,” I say finally.
Luka looks around to be sure no one is listening, and then slowly dances me further from the crowd. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Eve. I’m here for you—”
“Exactly,” I interrupt. “You should have gone after Milaya. I could fend for myself.”
“How?” he barks a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of one of the women in purple. “I can barely fend for myself here. How would you have gotten out?”
I don’t want to tell him that maybe I wouldn’t have. Luka won’t accept that answer, but it is the truth. I accepted that I might spend the rest of my life as someone else’s slave. I came to terms with that, and while I would have done everything in my power to get out, I also would gladly follow that path if it meant Milaya would be safe with Luka.
“I did my best,” Luka says. And for the first time, I see his uncertainty. His doubt.
Luka isn’t sure he made the right decision, and now I’m making it worse. If I know anything about him, he has been beating himself up for the fact that we were taken in the first place, and now I’m making him feel guilty about the way he is trying to save us.
I want to wrap my hand around his neck and pull his lips to mine. I want to apologize and promise him that we’ll find some way to make this all better.
But before I can, a heavy hand lands on my shoulder.
I spin and nearly get hit with the birdman’s beak again. He smiles at me and then at Luka. “I believe I’ve shared her enough now, don’t you?”
Luka’s jaw clenches, and for a second I worry he is going to haul back and punch the birdman right in his hooked nose, but then he lets his hands fall from my waist and gestures for the bastard to step in.
I watch Luka disappear into the crowd, wanting nothing more than to follow him. But my attention is quickly drawn to the birdman’s hands on my waist.
He grips my body like I’m a freshly caught fish that might jump from his grip. He is holding me so tight that I can barely breathe, and my chest heaves with the effort, which seems to only make him squeeze me tighter.
He talks to me, though I don’t listen. Whatever he is saying, it doesn’t require my response, and I’m glad because I would have nothing to say.
My thoughts are with Luka and Milaya and the bidding board in the lounge area. Has anyone else made a bid on me yet? Has Luka?
Who will I be going to bed with tonight?
The thought sends a chill down my spine, and then the entire room goes cold.
A woman is screaming. The sound echoes off the walls, drowning out the pulse of the music, and everyone freezes.
Except for me.
I immediately pull away from the birdman’s greedy grasp and push my way through the crowd.
10
Eve
The guests are backing away from the center of the room, and when I push my way past another woman in a red dress, I see a shaking figure in the center of the room.
She is dressed in purple—according to Kari, that means she is a virgin—and she is curled in the fetal position on the floor, rocking back and forth and screaming.
“I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to do this. Don’t make me do this.”
The man who was dancing with her, Fox-Face, steps back and shrugs his shoulders like he can’t imagine what led to her breakdown.
But I see a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He is enjoying this.
Luka is frowning towards the woman, and when he sees me moving towards her, he shakes his head once quickly.
I want to listen to him and not get involved. I know it is better not to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. However, when I see armed guards rushing from the corners of the room towards the shaking girl, I can’t stop myself from running towards her.
I kneel down beside her and drape an arm over her back.
“Hi,” I whisper in her ear. “My name is Eve.”
The woman doesn’t look up, but she stops screaming.
Sobs wrack her thin body. I can feel the bones of her back through her dress, and I wonder how long she has been held prisoner. For me, it was only a few days. But any longer in the Morrison house, and I would have been all skin and bones, too.
I run my hand down her spine and shush her the way I do Milaya when she wakes up in the middle of the night. “It’s okay. It’s okay, dear.”
The guards break into the inner circle, but they stop when they see me next to the woman on the floor. I look up into their grim faces, hoping to find some level of humanity there, but there is only annoyance.
They look at one another, trying to decide what to do, and one of them nods his head towards the bar. They need to distract the guests because right now, they are all watching me and the woman intently, and this is not the kind of thing the Cartel wants to advertise.
Right on cue, Edgar steps forward and claps his hands to draw everyone’s attention.
“Technical error,” he laughs, ushering the crowd towards the bar. “These things can happen. Why don’t I show you all to the house bar? It has a larger selection than the minibar, and our bartender can make anything you want while we deal with this.”
Deal with this. As though the sobbing woman on the floor is nothing more than a computer bug.
“You have to pull it together,” I say as gently as I can in the woman’s ear.
Luka lingers as everyone begins to follow Edgar towards the exit, listening to him explain that there is a pool table and a secret vault full of “adult toys” they can peruse.
The woman shivers at the idea and presses her forehead against the tile floor.
“Things will be worse for you if you make a scene,” I say, hating that I sound like Kari.
I want to tell the girl to fight. To scream and run and do whatever she can to get out of here, but I know that won’t help.
She is shivering and weak and scared, and the guards would dispose of her in an instant.
“I know this is horrible, but if you want to live, you have to play their game.”
The girl looks up at me, and I’m struck by her beauty.
Her face is gaunt with shadows under her eyes and cheekbones, but she has clear blue eyes the color of the ocean and full lips. Her red hair is wavy and thick and a delicate smattering of freckles cover her nose and cheeks. The purple collar around her neck says she is slave Number Eleven.
“What is your name?” I ask quietly.
She sniffles, her shoulders shaking with shuddering breaths from all of the crying. “Maddie.”
The guard nearest to us clears his throat and narrows his eyes at me.
We aren’t supposed to give our names, though I suspect he is only giving me a warning because they would rather I diffuse the situation than lose out on a woman who will clearly go for a hefty price.
“Okay,” I say, grabbing her around the waist. “We’re going to stand up, all right?”
She nods and stands on shaky legs like a newborn giraffe. I have to wrap an arm around her back to keep her standing.
The guards step back as we stand, and I look to them for permission, hoping I can lead her out of the room. They look at one another, and then slowly slip back to their posts, clearly grateful they don’t have to deal with it.
“Let’s just walk it off,” I say.
We make it to the doors before Maddie starts to cry again. She sags against my side and shakes her head. “He is so horrible.”
“Who?”
“The man,” she says, gesturing over her shoulder. “The man in the fox mask. He is horrible.”
“What did he say?” I already know the man is disgusting. I gathered that from his obvious enjoyment at Maddie’s breakdown. But having further proof he is a pig would be nice.
“He just told me—” she hesitates, a shiver running through her. “He told me what he wanted to do with me. Later.”
This girl isn’t going to make it.
That is the first thought that enters my mind. If I get out of here and she is sold, she won’t make it. She’ll be dead within a month.
I walk Maddie into the hallway, which stretches in both directions and is entirely empty now. I have no idea where the other guests are.
“There is no way to make any of this easier,” I say, choosing to turn right in hopes it will lead us back to the group. The last thing I want to do is be caught by a guard wandering in a prohibited part of the inn. “It is a horrible situation for us all, but if you freak out like that again, they’ll kill you.”
Maddie flinches, and I squeeze her shoulders tighter.
“I don’t want to scare you, but that is the reality. The best thing you can do right now is try to find someone here who isn’t horrible. Keep as much distance from the man in the fox mask as you can. My gut tells me that he gets off on your fear. Be confident and try to catch the eye of someone else. Someone who isn’t as horrible.”
“How?” she breathes. “Everyone here is horrible.”
“That’s true,” I admit with a humorless chuckle. “But cling to the least horrible man you can find. You are beautiful, and if you play your cards right, you might end up with someone who isn’t so bad.”
The words feel like acid in my mouth, and I nearly choke on them.
Every person here is horrible except for Luka. But I have to give Maddie some hope. Without it, she’ll be killed like the runt of the litter. She won’t survive the week.
Maddie begins to cry again, and I run my hand down her back as I peek in every door we pass, hoping to find the group.
Luka is probably livid at me for separating myself from him and drawing the attention of the guards and the other guests, but I can’t think about that now. Not when I don’t even know where I am.
From the outside, the inn looks averaged-sized, but inside, the hallways are like a maze of identical doorways. I stop and try to listen for the other guests, but I can’t hear anything.
Then, we turn a corner and run headfirst into Luka.
I bounce off his chest and stumble back with Maddie, but Luka doesn’t move. He is like a brick wall, and he leers down at both of us, his eyes narrowed.
