My mind ticks over the days of the month, trying to remember when my last period was.
Oh fuck.
“You’re pregnant. We ran a quick test; turns out you weren’t lying. Imagine my surprise and delight. While I’d usually put the newborn on the open market when they’re born, your little one is extra special to me.”
The nausea falls over me like waves crashing toward the shoreline. Sweat trickles my brow, and I stumble slightly.
Livia is right at my side, her hand on my arm, dragging me along with her. “The little one you’re carrying has DeLuca bloodlines. Seeing as how you murdered my husband, you owe me that child.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I snarl at her.
“You do, but we have time for that—you’re only a few weeks pregnant.”
There’s no way she’s taking my baby. She’s fucking crazy.
“Now, now, don’t be so upset. It’ll be our little secret for tonight.”
She winks at me, and I taste bile in my mouth, swallowing my disgust.
“Come, let me take you to the others.”
While I haven’t seen too many guards when entering the mansion, there are many more up ahead. She leads me farther inside the mansion, toward a set of wrought iron doors on the first floor, intricate and locked.
The guard nearest the door unlocks the gate entrance, and Livia gestures for me to enter.
A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I press my lips together, hiding the discomfort. The last thing I want is to appear weak to the monster keeping me locked up.
Regret fills me. I should have fought harder against that stupid doctor or Livia upstairs, when there weren’t other guards around. I may have been able to escape.
Once I step past those locked gates, there’s no exiting on my own.
“Walk!” Livia commands and reaches into her pocket for that stupid remote control to torture me.
I step forward, if only because I’d rather be trapped than experience another jolt of electricity around my neck.
That’s the reason I can’t fight.
Every time I attempt to challenge Livia or anyone of power here, I’m subdued. And the pain is atrocious, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
My breathing is shallow and my heart quickens as she brushes past me, leading me down the hallway.
From behind, I hear the firm metal clasp of the gate.
Whatever awaits me is sure to be the depths of hell.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, obediently following her farther inside. There are guards in the hallway, men armed with guns and daggers attached to their clothes. Of the five guards I count, only the ones on the other side of the gate are wearing protective armor.
These men are in shirts and pants, armed for a war with whom exactly?
Livia opens the door to the left and nods for me to enter. “Go.” She shoves me when I don’t move quickly enough.
The room is dimly lit, the floor a cold marble with an oversized area rug in the center.
She slams the door shut behind me and I glance at the other young women my ages or even possibly younger.
I inhale sharply, my hands in front of me, wringing them together. Anxiety pricks at my skin, my stomach heavy like lead.
A girl, maybe all of fourteen or fifteen, hurries over to me now that I’m locked inside.
