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Panic.
Panic so hot, so thick, so suffocating, I couldn’t breathe.
Come on.
Come on!
I tried again. And again. Pulling, pushing, jerking on the handle.
It stayed stubbornly shut.
Breathing hard, fighting the shaking of my bones, I glanced at my phone. The emergency number wouldn’t connect—the signal just kept whirling, whirling searching for service.
This can’t be happening.
Please!
“As you can clearly see, the door is locked,” the older guy murmured almost apologetically behind me. The splash of liquid on crystal revealed Henri had poured himself another drink.
Fighting every instinct to bolt, I clung to bravery and turned to face the three men.
Henri refused to meet my eyes, glowering into his glass. His entire demeanour bellowed with regret but also savage desperation.
“Your phone is useless too.” The older man slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black device. “This little thing will scramble any signal within a twenty-metre radius.” He smiled with a half-hearted shrug. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the moment you stepped into this room, you handed over your life…to me.”
“Open the door. Right now.”
“No.” He smiled. “And be careful how you talk to me, girl. You do not want to see me angry.”
“Angry?” I bared my teeth. “I’m the one who’s angry. You have no right. No right to hold me against my will. Let me the hell out.”
“Careful.” He clucked his tongue. “Don’t make me punish you so soon.”
“Punish?” I choked and stumbled against the door. “No one is punishing anyone. Open it. Or I’ll…I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He smiled as if I was a new pet whose only purpose was to entertain him. “You’ll scream?”
I stiffened as he chuckled.
He laughed as if my fear delighted him, his smile never dropping. A heartless smile that made everything inside me shrivel up with fear.
Gliding toward me in his expensive, glossy shoes, he said, “You are new and therefore unaware of what’s expected of you, so I will be lenient…for now.” He kept stalking closer, slowly, methodically. “But I do expect you to be smart about this. You’re mine now. Henri has bought and paid for you on my bequest. You can scream, shout, fight, and cry, but the only things those dramatics will get you is the back of my hand and the promise that when we return to my estate, I will not spare you.”
Stopping before me, trapping me against the door, he reached out and caressed my cheek.
Every cell within me, every molecule, every droplet of blood and unshed tear turned to stone. I leaned toward him, hissing with a thousand snakes on my tongue. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”
I slapped his hand away.
I went to scream.
Pain.
It bloomed over my cheek and exploded in my temple.
One moment, I stood in my second-hand dainty boots; the next, I kneeled on the blood-red carpet, my ears ringing, my mouth full of coppery tang from my teeth catching my lip.
“Henri, don’t—” the other guy snapped just before Henri towered over me, his broad shoulders almost touching the man who’d slapped me.
