Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Madame Victoria hides her disdain well. “Of course. As are all the women in this house.” She circles me while pointing out my attributes like I am a precious gem about to go up for auction. I am far from regal. My body houses many scars from my inability to remember I am a commodity, and there is barely an ounce of fat on my bones. I am malnourished with lifeless eyes—two reasons I’ve most likely been overlooked the past couple of years. “Extensive training, magnificent culinary skills, and research indicate she will age well.”
My heart patters in my chest when she hands Col a photograph. I only catch the quickest glimpse of it, but I will never forget my mother’s ruddy cheeks and vibrant red hair.
A crack announces my increase in pulse didn’t go unnoticed by Madame Victoria. Her hit is barely a slap across the thighs with her walking stick but firm enough to pull me into line. She hits hard enough to crack skulls. I’ve witnessed her strength firsthand.
“Your children are grown, yes?” Madame Victoria asks, her focus back on Col.
I breathe for what feels like the first time in minutes when Col answers, “Yes, but I am not seeking her to girth my loins.” Bile burns the back of my throat when he murmurs, “Although tempted.” He shifts his focus from my nipples strained against the dowdy white nightgown all women here wear to Madame Victoria. “I need her for a special project.”
I’ve never seen Madame Victoria’s interests this piqued, not even when one of the women gave birth only three months after arriving here. Usually, they’re sold as virgins or brought here to rear children. Sophie slipped through the net. “Which is?”
I feel the size of an ant when Col’s eyes snap to mine. After perusing me for several uncomfortable seconds, with a wave of his hand, I’m dismissed from the room.
With my heart thudding like it’s never pounded before, I return to mashing the potatoes for dinner while staring out the ‘window.’ It is a bland and uninviting view when nothing but my murky shadow reflects back at me. The compound has barely any windows, and the ones it does have were boarded up with glossy silver tape many years ago. I haven’t seen sunlight in years, and my pasty white skin makes my red hair even more vibrant.
I startle when Madame Victoria sneaks up on me unaware. “Leave that. You need to be prepared for sale.”
“But…” This isn’t the first time I’ve made this mistake, and although her retaliation for my disobedience is swift, I expect to feel the sting of her wrath for days to come. The men housed in every corner of this compound don’t hold anything back when directed to intervene.
“You were told to do something, so do it,” a goon sneers in my face, his spit hot on my cheeks.
“Yes, sir,” I reply, my words barely audible since my focus is on not whimpering about the clump of my hair sitting by my now-scuffed knees.
He yanked me to kneel beside him as a reminder that I am not his equal.
I am his slave.
The next hour passes in a blur. My head is throbbing from where I was grabbed and forced to my knees, but I’m also feeling a little lethargic and sentimental. This compound is not the cute three- bedroom home I grew up in, but it is all I’ve known for the past three or so years. Leaving it is daunting, but even more daunting than that is the fact I feel a little homesick.
“Remember what I taught you,” Madame Victoria murmurs from the only doorway in and out of this compound. “If you do, you will stay alive. If you don’t…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She merely hands me a photograph that spells everything out in graphic detail.
Ivey didn’t last a day outside these walls. She was killed by her new owner three hours after her auction, then returned like a broken doll.
I blink back the tears springing in my eyes about her cruel refund when the door next to Madame Victoria pops open. Guards flank the small opening, shadowing my face from the blinding sun enough to spot a row of dark SUVs lined down a dirt driveway several feet from the opening of the compound.
There isn’t another house close by. Not a single one.
That’s why no one heard my screams for help.
“Goodbye, ma’am,” I stupidly murmur, my teachings beaten into me too fiercely to forget.
For the first time, Madame Victoria’s harsh lines soften before she dips her chin in farewell.
My wish to vomit doubles when my slow trek over a heavily manned threshold has me stumbling onto another conversation. This time, it centers around me.
“Are you sure she will entice him enough?” Since I’m not blindfolded this time around, I can take in the features of the man with a thick Russian accent. He is as old as my head imagined, but his hair is darker than expected, and his height is more substantial. “We need to make sure he is nowhere near New York state lines.”