I refused to eat. Refused to do anything until Colton came to my room to introduce himself, explain the rules and the punishments for not following them. I ate something then, barely able to chew or swallow, but not so stupid as to refuse.
After eating, I was escorted to a large bathroom where I could bathe and take care of other things, but then I was returned to my room where I could do nothing but wait.
And wait, I did.
Each hour that passed, I waited for one man to walk through the door.
A dark force in a gilded mansion.
A shadow of memory that linked me to the past.
The silence in that room was a nightmare on its own because it let me think. I didn’t like the turn of my thoughts, the paths my thoughts chose to wander.
All paths led to Callan eventually. And it took a full day for me to realize that, although I’d attempted to run, the effort had been for my ego more than my heart.
In the end, I was glad he’d caught me. I found solace in the realization that he would never let me go.
Had I been testing myself or him by trying to escape? I wasn’t sure. But his effort at keeping me trapped spoke of more than his dominant nature.
It was a whisper in my head that my value to Callan was more than even he could admit.
So, I waited.
And waited.
My body sat straighter at the sound of heavy footsteps outside my door, my pulse pounding in my throat each time the door opened, my heart dropping into my feet with the weight of my disappointment when it wasn’t Callan who stepped through.
That was the first day.
By the second, a few intrepid eyes peeked in, curiosity eventually pushing the door open, and a pretty redhead snuck past my gatekeeper to flash me a wicked smile as she crossed my room to sit on my bed.
“You must be Lisbeth,” she’d said, authenticity glimmering behind brown eyes.
The woman told me her name was Haley, and I took an instant liking to her. She was short and curvy with pixie features that drew the eye. Ten minutes into our first conversation and I’d forgotten her job in the mansion. I learned that it didn’t matter what a person chose to do to survive.
By the end of day two, we were friends, more of the women on the lower levels coming in to introduce themselves as well.
In truth, the only one I didn’t like was Isabelle, only because she stared at me with a chill behind her eyes. I’d wondered if her part in my escape attempt had been her idea or Callan’s. I never asked her. It didn’t matter. But I still didn’t trust her for shit.
By the third day, I found that I wasn’t alone anymore. My breakfast, lunch and dinner were brought to me by a new group of friends, the women so comfortable in their roles in the mansion that it didn’t feel like an odd choice to me anymore. Not that I would choose the same, but I didn’t question their decision.
In a way, I admired them.
Yes, they’d chosen a path that I didn’t understand, but after learning what they stood to gain, I was slightly jealous.
Three years as a sexual slave. That was their contract lengths, but what they stood to gain from it was impressive.
From what Haley explained, the women earned money during their tenure, most of it saved since they were given free room and board, their meals were paid for, and everything else they may need was provided.
Once the contract was up, they were given the choice of taking on another three years, or walking away with not only what they’d already earned, but a significant financial bonus with which they could start a life of their own.
In many ways, I had more chains on me than these women who were considered slaves. My freedom had never been guaranteed in my youth, and as I learned from my mother, it wasn’t promised in my introduction to adult life either.
If not for her, I’d be the same as these women, only I wouldn’t have made the choice, and I wouldn’t be looking forward to a retirement where I could strike out on my own path in life.
Between my friendship with Holly, and now my friendship with them, I was beginning to see that pride and vanity weren’t reserved for those who could afford it. And in many ways,