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I head down the narrow hallway behind the security door and stop at a panel in the wall, where I scan my palm, then my retina. Daddy insisted on top-notch security for this safe room, and I’m so glad he did.
When the wall panel slides open, I’m greeted by the sight of a very bored young woman lying on the sofa in there, watching TV. She smiles when she sees me, a bright, welcoming smile, the kind of smile that only a week ago I never would have believed she was capable of.
“Alessa! Oh myGod, it’s good to see you, I’m so bored today, I—”
“Sienna,” I say, coming to sit by her at once and taking her hand. “I just wanted to check on you.” I return her smile, but she can tell something’s wrong.
“I’m fine,” she says with a frown, looking at the gun in my hand. “But—”
“But?” I think I’m being a little too intense, leaning in like I am. I make an effort to lean back.
But her eyes are already a little wide. “Are you okay?”
I almost laugh. AmIokay? “Oh, I’m fine. Just fine.”
“Uh, okay.” Her eyes wander a little past me. “Hi,” she says.
I whirl around, getting to my feet, automatically whipping my handgun up to the entrance—and then dropping it just as fast.
Natalie Moreau is standing in the doorway, looking startled. And then her face changes as she takes in Sienna, and the cramped room she’s been living in for the past week.
“Natalie, I...” I trail off. “You were supposed to wait in the lounge,” I finish weakly.
I’m cursing my own lack of sense. In my panic to get in here and reassure myself that Sienna was okay, I didn’t even shut the damn doors behind me. That kind of fuzzy-headed carelessness is likely to get me—and rather a lot of other people—killed.
And all I can think is, Juno Bianchi would never have made such a silly mistake, not with her cool head and strategic mind.
But it’s too late now. Natalie has already moved into the room, looking around with an expression that gets darker by the second.
She turns on me, and asks coldly, “What the hell is going on here?”
CHAPTER15
NATALIE
I sweep the dimly lit space with a practiced eye, senses heightened. A plain single bed, a bedside table with a half-eaten microwavable meal, a sofa, TV—and on that sofa crouches the startled young woman I heard Alessa refer to as Sienna, her eyes wide as she looks between Alessa and me.
She’s so young. So young.
A thousand terrible thoughts flood my mind: Alessa’s trafficking her, she’s been kidnapped, this is all a front for something far darker.
I turn to Alessa, taking in the fear darkening her usually bright green eyes. She lifts her hands in supplication likeI’mthe one with the gun. “Let me explain, Natalie. I promise you, it’s not what you think.”
My gaze snaps back to Sienna. Her breathing comes fast and shallow, muscles coiled tight. Dark hair falls across frightened eyes.
“Are you okay?” I ask Sienna, my gaze locked on her, trying to gauge if she’s being coerced.
“Y-yes,” she stammers, but her eyes don’t leave Alessa.
“Sienna is here of her own free will,” Alessa insists, more calmly than I think she would if she was lying.
“Is that true?” I demand, needing to hear it from Sienna herself.
“Yes,” Sienna reiterates, more firmly this time. “Alessa’s helping me.” Her voice trembles still, but she seems to be telling the truth.
“Why did you follow me in here?” Alessa asks, something close to despair in her tone.
I think fast. The best defense, as they say… “I saw you walking by,” I say, keeping an edge of suspicion in my voice. “I went after you because I thought you hadn’t seen me.”
