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I want to help her, to save her, to stop this, but I know that there’s no way that I can. Sofia is crying silently, tears filling her eyes and sliding down her face. Her mascara doesn’t budge, and I realize with a sick feeling in my stomach that the makeup artist must have used waterproof on purpose, knowing that women in a situation like ours likely wouldn’t make it through the night without crying.
God forbid we not still be beautiful and perfect, even in our misery.
“Cat—” Sofia whispers, almost pleadingly, but I know that she knows as well as I do that there’s nothing to be done. The room is full of security, ours and now the Frenchman’s, and even if one of us could get to her, there’s nowhere that we could go after that. We’re helpless, and it’s one of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced.
I’ve failed.The same words loop over and over in my head, the sight of Ana being carried to the entrance of the room turning my blood to ice, and I can see Sasha staring after her too, her face pale and shocked. It feels like a dream, anightmare,like at any moment we’ll wake up and be back in Manhattan. It can’t be real. It can’t be happening. But it is.
Ana’s purchase seems to have awakened a sense of urgency in the guests, and they start to move towards the remaining three of us more eagerly, with renewed interest. I try desperately to distance myself from all of it, trying to ignore the hands and eyes on my body, appraising me, determining if I’m worth whatever price Alexei has set for me. I try to pinpoint Anika and Yelena again, terrified that I might miss someone catching interest in them and have them be gone before I know it, but the party is in full swing now, and I can’t always catch sight of them. The room is a swirl of mingling guests interspersed with servers circulating with trays of appetizers and champagne, and I feel dizzy as the minutes tick by, Ana’s sale and loss becoming more concrete by the moment. We haven’t eaten in hours, and my mouth is dry, my stomach twisted with hunger and grief, my body starting to tremble with exhaustion and the effort of holding back my emotions.
I catch sight of Alexei handing the girls off to a guard, and I catch my breath, fear shooting through me. “Take them upstairs to their room,” I faintly hear him say over the ambient orchestral music and din of conversation. “I’m finished with them for tonight.”
A wave of relief washes over me, enough to make my knees weak. The night clearly isn’t over for us, but at least I don’t have to be worried for Anika and Yelena, at least for the rest of tonight. They won’t be sold, not yet, and I feel almost faint. One loss is all I can bear for the night.
On the other hand, the fact that Alexei had the children removed doesn’t bode well for the three—possibly four—of us at all.
He motions to the guards standing by our stages, confirming my fears. My heart sinks as the guard starts to reach for me, grabbing my elbow and tugging me towards the edge of my stage. I do my best to keep my balance in my high heels as exhausted as I am, stumbling towards the edge as he pulls me impatiently off of it onto the main floor.
I glance over, seeing Sasha and Sofia’s guards doing the same, pulling them down from the stages and moving them into a line. The couple interested in Sofia stays close, watching her with interest as Alexei turns towards those same guests, who are starting to gather curiously as we’re pushed forward. He opens his mouth as if to say something and I stiffen, dreading whatever comes next. I can only imagine what kind of display he’s going to put on to drive up our prices and encourage another sale.
Then, there’s a sudden cracking sound, the now-familiar sound of gunshots splitting the air. I hear a crash from the main part of the house, the sound of shouting, and I turn, my heart hammering in my chest and my pulse lodged in my throat as I look towards the entryway into the room with a sudden, wild hope that I can hardly bear.
I’m hallucinating.
I must be.
The stress and guilt and shock must have gotten to be too much. It’s the only answer, because what I see is Viktor coming through the door, black-garbed men in tactical gear spilling out on either side of him, and Levin, Max, and Luca close on his heels.
It can’t be real.
He’s here.
He came.
