My voice rose until my throat burned raw. "Every time I changed clothes. Every time I cried. Every private moment I thought I had for eight days."
I turned to Kara, who sat rigid at the head of the table. "Tell me you never watched me undress on those monitors."
She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.
"You knew." The soup bowl blurred as tears threatened. "You knew the whole time." My words tumbled out faster, tripping over themselves as heat crawled up my neck. "You touched me knowing you had been watching me like I was some kind of..." I choked on the words, my lungs suddenly empty.
I swiveled toward Ellie, whose fingers had frozen around her napkin. "You held me. You comforted me. Made me feel safe." My voice cracked. "Were you thinking about what you saw on those cameras? Did it make it easier to know exactly what I needed because you had watched me fall apart?"
I barely glanced at Cam, who sat motionless except for the muscle jumping in her jaw. "Did you all discuss what you saw? Compare notes? Or did you just watch, like you always do?"
I slammed my palm against the table as I turned back to Alex. The silverware jumped. "And you want to talk about protocol? You are the mole. You put everyone in danger. Your cousin is dead because of you. Gina is dead because of you." My voice broke completely when I added, "Mark is missing because of you."
I blinked hard against the hot tears. "I trusted you. All of you. I gave you everything. My body. My..." I swallowed against the knot in my throat. "And the whole time you were watching me like I was some kind of lab rat."
Ellie leaned forward. "It's not likethat—"
"We had to ensure your safety," Kara cut in, her fingers splayed on the table. "Standard security protocols require—"
I laughed, the sound scraping my throat raw. "Stop. There's no justification for this."
My eyes locked with Alex's. Her face remained impassive, almost bored. The same expression she'd worn when she'd told me stories about the Bellantes. When she'd traced patterns on my skin in bed. When she'd whispered false promises against my neck.
"You never cared," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that somehow filled the room. "I was just your tool, wasn't I, Domenica?"
Her real name hung in the air between us. The others went still.
"I should have kept my nose out of your family's business." My fingers curled into fists. "Maybe I should call your father. Tell him who's been feeding me information all these months. I bet he'd give me my life back."
I stood. The chair legs screeched against the floor like a wounded animal. The sound followed me as I walked away, leaving their silence behind.
I fled to the living room, my body vibrating with rage. My hands trembled so violently I had to press them against my thighs. Tears burned hot trails down my face, but these weren't the silent drops of sadness I'd shed in my bedroom while they watched. These were fury incarnate.
Where could I go? The solarium was a death trap after dark. Outside was forbidden. My bedroom was bugged. Was the library? The kitchen? The fucking bathroom?
I perched on the edge of the wing chair by the fireplace, as far from any corners or vents as possible. The mama cat and her kittens slept in their box nearby, oblivious to human betrayal.
My chest heaved with each breath. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape. I couldn't blame it.
They had seen everything. Every moment I thought was private. Every tear. Every nightmare. Every time I changed clothes or showered or talked to myself or practiced what I would say to Mark if I ever saw him again.
Mark. God. “The search for investigative journalist Sabine Barrett continues" scrolled across the bottom of the news. Something was very wrong, and I was stuck here, useless.
I was more alone now than when I first arrived. Then, they were just strangers doing a job. Now they were strangers who had violated me, whom I had stupidly trusted. Worse, I needed them. The Bellantes would kill me the moment I stepped outside unprotected.
I glanced at the ceiling corners, wondering which ones held cameras. Alex's dismissive shrug replayed in my mind. Like my privacy meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.
The walls of this beautiful prison closed in tighter. I was trapped with four women who had watched me at my most vulnerable, and there wasn't a single thing I could do about it.
26
Sabine
I reached down andpicked up the grey kitten from where she'd been circling my ankles. Her fur slipped through my fingers as I petted her, my movements mechanical, disconnected from the rage still burning in my chest. My other hand stayed clenched in my lap, nails digging half-moons into my palm.
The muted TV flickered above the empty fireplace, casting blue shadows across the living room. My ankle throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of how I'd gotten here, trapped in this beautiful prison with my keepers.
The kitten settled into my lap, her tiny motor rumbling against my thigh. I envied her simplicity, her contentment with warmth and touch. I couldn't stop hearing Alex's voice. That dismissive "So?" when I'd confronted her about the cameras. As if my privacy meant nothing. As if I should just accept being watched, recorded, analyzed. Protocol, Kara had called it. Necessary precautions.
