you do that? Let him take her? She’s a little girl. Just a little girl.”
“She’s not your problem. In fact, you have much bigger problems to worry about, Cousin.” He nods to the man who has hold of me. The soldier starts to walk me out of the room.
“You promised not to hurt me! Let me go!”
“I will keep my promise. Just like I kept my promise to let your husband know Marcus Rinaldi’s location.”
I stop. “You did that?”
He nods.
“You set him up?”
This time he smiles. “I always keep my promises, Cousin.”
We step out into the hallway just as another door opens and another woman, one I vaguely recognize from the boat is escorted out.
“Let me go!” I fight the guard now, knowing Felix sent Cristiano to his death. Knowing I’ll join him soon.
“I won’t touch a single hair on your head,” Felix continues calmly as if I haven’t spoken at all. He turns to walk in the opposite direction.
39
Scarlett
Over the next twenty minutes two men keep me down while three women do their work. One waxes me to within an inch of my life. The only hair left on my person is that on my head and my eyebrows. I’m beyond feeling embarrassed at this point. I’m just fighting and I manage to kick one of the women in the nose. I’m pretty sure I break it, but I don’t care.
Finding me too much trouble to apply makeup like they have to the other women, they brush out my hair and leave it loose down my back before attaching heavy cuffs to both my wrists and ankles then securing my arms at my sides by chains that attach to the ankle restraints. My ankles are connected too, by a short chain that makes every step a hazard.
There are more than a dozen women in here with me. I recognize a few of the younger ones from the boat. We’re all naked, my towel long gone. I’m the only one whose chains connect at the ankles, though. Theirs lock their arms to their sides but give them some mobility.
They’re heavily made up, each more beautiful than the last. Each more terrified than the last. We’re made to walk down a long, narrow corridor that’s dimly lit toward the single door at the end.
It’s loud in here. The sound of our chain gang reverberating off the walls.
An armed soldier leads the procession with several to accompany us. Although I hear some of the girls sniffling, no one cries outright, no one screams, no one tries to run.
No one but me. Not the running part, though. My goal is not escape. My goal is damage. Do as much damage as I can to the men and women who allow this. Make as much noise as I can. Do whatever I can to let these girls know someone will fight for them at least.
I doubt it’ll give them hope, though. I think that’s been beaten out of them.
But what happens after tonight?
What happens to them when I’m gone?
What happens to Mara who tried to save me? She has no idea what she’s up against. The man who took her, the men I can now hear on the other side of that door, they’re predators.
And watching their prey, terrorizing their prey, that’s half the fun.
We come to a stop once we reach the door. I can hear the same music from when we first arrived, and the waiter was returning to the kitchen to replenish his tray of drinks. It’s pretty and elegant and doesn’t belong here. Not to these men. Not to this setting. Not to us in our chains.
“Where’s Felix?” I ask the guard who still has my arm. He hasn’t let it go for what feels like hours and I’m sure it’s already black and blue.
He doesn’t answer me.
Hell, he doesn’t even look at me.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask him in Spanish, thinking maybe he doesn’t speak English.
He glances down at me, eyes cold and hard, then shifts his gaze to the door again.
“I’m Scarlett De La Cruz. Manuel De La Cruz’s daughter. I’m Cristiano Grigori’s wife. His fucking wife. And when he finds out what you’re doing to me, he’ll kill you!”
My heart twists because he won’t find out. And he won’t kill anyone.
He’s dead. Felix made sure of that when he gave him Marcus’s location. Was it an ambush? Did he have a fighting chance?
All I get for my effort is a tightening of his grip.
I