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“Get her in line with the others.”
The brawny man I’d run into took my upper arm in his grasp, shoving me toward the line of girls who stood primly, one right next to the other, their heads bowed but their shoulders erect.
“Stand here,” he barked, shoving me next to a young girl with strawberry blond hair who was wearing nothing more than a sheer slip. “You move and you get punished, understood?”
Recognizing this was not a battle I should fight, I nodded my head meekly.
“Good,” he sneered. “Eyes on the floor.”
I obeyed, but inside, I was going over all the ways I could carve him up. Him and the fucker with the cattle prod.
We stood in line for what felt like hours. My legs were beginning to burn, knees growing tired and threatening to give out. I was on the brink of tipping over like the little teapot when the door to the hallway burst open.
“Kneel.” The harsh command had the girls scrambling to kneel. I followed, cursing him under my breath. At least I wasn’t at risk of falling over any longer.
“As you can see, we have an amazing lineup this year.” A nasally voice drifted through the room anxiously. “Some of the top women from our donors.”
“Yes.” A woman’s voice joined his, her voice a smooth rumble that reminded me of dark chocolate. Her heels clacked along the stone floor, joined by the tapping of what sounded like a cane. “Ward does seem to have luck when it comes to finding the perfect candidates for our program.”
Program?
Keeping my head down, I let my gaze wander slightly beneath my lashes. Red heels and a black cane entered my vision briefly before passing on down the line.
“I hate to resort to finding women this way,” she continued, her voice tinted with disgust. “But with two of our assets having gone rogue, I’m in need of immediate replacements.”
“Of course,” the man acquiesced. “We are at the Dollhouse’s humble service, Madam Therese.”
Dollhouse.I’d run across that name before while searching for Lina. One of her contacts had tipped her off to it, but none of her notes went into detail. There was an obvious connection to the trafficking ring, but until this moment, I hadn’t known what it was.
Was it a brothel? Or some kind of secondary ring? The woman’s voice held the same accent as the guards but softer.
I swallowed hard when the cold tip of the woman’s cane rested beneath my chin, forcing my head up. She stood above me, clothed in a black wrap dress that was accessorized by a dead rodent’s fur wrapped around her shoulders. Her silver hair was swept back into an elegant bun. She had a long, angular face with pinched red lips and narrow eyes.
This was what I expected a brothel manager to look like.
“This one has potential,” she purred. The nasally man, who I now recognized as Tatem Jones from the pictures I’d seen, shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Madam Therese.” He bowed slightly. “This one is not up for grabs. I didn’t realize our men had cleared her from her cell. She is already slotted to go to someone else. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Pity,” the woman drawled. “I’d hoped to be the one to break that spirit in her eyes.”
I’d like to break your nose and those coffee-stained teeth. Maybe feed you to a shark.
Her cane whipped out, hitting my side with fierce precision, causing me to shriek at the sudden pain.
Oops. Had I said that out loud?
Tatem shook his head at me before barking at the girls to stand.
“I’ll take four and eight.” She signaled to her men, who hauled the two girls away. Not that they put up a fight. And here I thought I had Stockholm syndrome. “Let me know if this one ever becomes available. I do love a challenge.”
Tatem smirked. “I don’t think there will be much left by the time her new owner is done with her, but I will pass along the message.”
New owner. Like I’d had a previous one.
Then again, I had. Drew. My receipt of sale had also been among the folders I’d uncovered. Drew’s father had bought me for his son for three million dollars. He’d wanted a strong link between him and Crowe, as well as something to lord over my biological father. I would have been expected to give him a child, since his woman of choice couldn’t bear any.
Tatem growled something in Italian, his words too fast for me to translate, and a few more guards appeared. They weren’t as bulky as their predecessors and were distinctly Italian. They led us remaining women down a short corridor and up a small flight of stairs before guiding us to the back of a stage. The voices I’d heard through my cell were louder now. The clinking of glasses and cheerful conversation more distinguishable.
