by Evie Harper
“You’re in the collection now. That means you will receive jewellery, expensive clothing, shoes, the best of everything. Marco treats the collection like priceless jewels. You will never want for anything, ever again. But that comes at a cost.”
“The Parties,” she mutters, while still staring down at the diamonds.
“Yes,” I answer quietly.
“Lily,” I say sternly, making sure I have her full attention.
She raises her eyes to mine and holds my stare. “Always make sure to call him Sir. You don’t want to know what he does to the women who call him by his name. Only the men are permitted to do that. He may keep you in jewels, designer clothes, and luxurious houses, but hear me when I say that does not mean he will not hurt or belittle you. It’s what this is all about, his control over you.”
Lily’s eyes shine with unspilled tears. She walks out of the closet and I follow close behind. She walks to the middle of the room and gestures to the bedroom door with her arm. Still facing the door, she changes the subject, “Do you think my sister is being hurt right now? Do you think she is okay? Would anyone tell me if she got hurt?”
I sigh. I need her to focus on the party right now. “No, I don’t think she is being hurt.”
Lily’s eyes swing back to me. She breathes out an enormous breath, like the weight of the world just lifted off her shoulders.
I continue, “Not physically anyway. She will be sold. The men know they can’t damage the goods. And no, no one will tell you now or in the future if she gets hurt. You’re likely not going to see her again. She will be with the rest of the slaves and made to work away from this side of the house until Marco finds a buyer for her. She will be dressed up at one point, and they will photograph her. Her picture will be sent out to possible buyers.”
I do feel for her, and I understand her concern for her sister, but I won’t help her. If Lily and Sasha had come a year or two ago, I may have cracked and helped them, but not now. I’ve come too far. I’m too close to getting what I want. I’m taken from my thoughts as Lily moves to sit on a chair at the small table. She hangs her head then pierces me with her eyes.
“I don’t know nor do I care what made you into this horrible person, but I hope you and every other sick asshole in this house dies a horrible, painful death, hopefully in a burning fire, from a match stick that I light.”
A smile touches my lips. I can’t help but hope for the same thing. That’s what all the men in this house deserve, including me.
I decide to change the topic. “The girls will be here soon. They won’t speak to you. They have been instructed not to talk to men, or the women of the collection. Some have learned the hard way what happens if they disobey, so don’t think you can get them to help you. If you still intend on trying, remember if they get punished, that will land on your shoulders. Do you have any questions?”
Lily’s eyes flare with anger. “That’s disgusting. Those poor girls.”
I nod, not wanting to get into this with her. “Questions, Lily,” I firmly state to keep her focused.
Her eyes go wide and she scoffs at me, “Are you kidding. I have hundreds. What is this private party? What happens there? Who will be there?”
I had hoped she would stick with the topic of the slave girls. The weight of those questions suddenly drains the energy from my body. I grab a chair from next to the window and straddle it. “I can’t answer any of those for you. You will get told at the party.” I could tell her, but we have learned in the past telling them too early made for an ugly fight getting them to the car. After hearing what happens, none of them want to go, not that I blame them.
Thank fuck I won’t be there when Lily is told. Her horror-filled expression would fuck with my head even more. There’s no way I wouldn’t want to storm out of the place with her over my shoulder. My body is screaming at me to drag Lily out of this house right now. I clench my hands to stop myself from actually doing it. Fuck, conscience, this is not the time to make a fucking appearance. I have my orders, and I will follow them.
Lily lets out a cute huff. “How convenient. When I’m there and won’t be able to leave.” Ah, she’s too smart for her own good. I shake my head, trying to keep the laugh to myself again.
A soft knock comes from the door. I go over and unlock the bolts with my keys. Three slave girls are there. I open the door wide in invitation for them to come in. They stand to the side and wait. I turn to Lily and see her observing the girls.
She turns to me as I speak in a serious voice, “Remember what I said, Lily. They won’t talk to you, and if they do,” I turn my head to the slave girls, “they will be punished.” They all nod to me.
“Jake?”
I’m walking out when I’m surprised by Lily saying my name. I turn around and look at her anxious expression. “Will you be coming with me to the party?” The question throws me for a moment. Why would she want me to be there?
“No, Lily. A private party is for Marco to show you off so it will only be you there tonight. A party means you and the rest of the collection and their guards will attend. And only the top guards attend the parties. If I make it as a collection guard and come with you to Marco’s house, then I will be attending the parties with you.”
The thought of arriving at Marco’s house sends adrenalin pumping to my chest. Fuck, it can’t come fast enough. Lily nods to me, and I exit the room, locking the deadbolts. I sit on a chair in the hallway and wait for the girls to knock to let me know they are finished, and Lily is ready to leave for the party.
I sit forward and place my hands on my head. This shit is too much sometimes. Why is she affecting me so much? I give myself a hit to the head. Stop thinking about her, you dick.
Soon, very soon, thanks to Lily, I will be going to the secret location of the biggest sex slave empire in the world, guarding the world’s most sought after women. Then I will have it all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I’m so fucking sorry.
As soon as Jake sets the dead bolt, the three women start talking to each other. They discuss who will choose my outfit, and do my hair and makeup. While they talk about me as if I’m not even here, I take the opportunity to study their appearance. All three young women have brown hair, varying from mousey brown to dark. Their hair is the same, tied back in a tight bun. A plain white sundress with thin straps covers their far too skinny bodies.
I take a step toward them, and they all turn to me. I decide to take a small chance, hoping this won’t put them in harm’s way. “I know you can’t talk to me. But if you could just nod or shake your head. Can you please tell me if my sister is okay? I need to know. I think one of the guards, Mick, I think he might hurt her.” My eyes dart to each of them, not wanting to miss any potential nods or shakes of the head. All I see are sad expressions. My heart starts beating a million miles an hour wondering what that means. Argh. “Please, please,” I choke out. “We can call it a favour, and if you ever need one, I will repay it to you.” I look at them, hoping this will convince them.
The girl standing in the middle turns her back to me and pulls up her dress to her knees. I gasp at seeing long white scars on the back of her calves. She drops her dress and turns quickly after my shocked response.
Tears fall from my eyes at thinking of what that must have been like for her. I hope to God Sasha doesn’t go through that.
“I understand. I’m sorry for asking.”
She steps forward, grabs my hand and squeezes. My tears slow then stop.
After a few moments, they all scatter around the room. One into the bathroom and one pulls out a long table in the back of the walk-in closet. It looks like one of those tables you lie on in a beauty salon. Another woman goes to the dresses on the bed.
Two hours after being waxed, prodded, pulled, and dressed, I’m standing in front of a massive mirror in the walk-in closet. I can’t believe my eyes. The girls have worked magic on me. Pity I can’t smile and thank them like I would have in any other situati
on. No, now I’ve grown angry.
Angry that there are people in this room, right now, who probably know what is happening to my little sister. People in this room who know what I will be walking into and they can’t tell me anything. I want to scream and shake them until they tell me. But their scars flash through my mind, and I remember to bite my tongue. I remind myself, Sasha and I are not the only women being held captive here.
I distract myself by examining my reflection and see the beautiful black dress I’m wearing. Lace overlay, open back, princess neckline, three-quarter sleeves. A miniskirt underlay that sits mid-thigh, with lace falling to my feet. My hair is in a braid that hangs over my left shoulder. It’s beautiful with a few strands hanging down just near my ears. After my shower, the girls pointed to the long table for me to lie down. One of the girls did my makeup, and she was fairly quick. When I study myself in the mirror, I see she went with a natural look. I’m thankful. I never wear makeup. It always looks wrong on me. Probably from my inability to know how to use all those confusing products.
After she had finished my makeup, I was sprayed with some perfume. One girl gave me a manicure then pulled me to the mirror where I got the shock of my life at my reflection. I was stunning, more stunning than I had ever seen myself.
Gazing at myself in the mirror, I can’t help letting my mind wander to imagine myself getting ready for a date, a ball with a handsome prince. But reality is quick to snap me out of those thoughts as the girl who showed me her scars comes and stands next to me in the mirror, me in my gown and her in her dirty white dress looking underweight. I look to her, and she has a small smile on her face. I smile back with the same sad smile. She then leads me to the door, and one of the other girls knocks twice. We wait only a moment before I hear the deadbolt unlock.
Jake enters the room. His eyes hit me and go wide. His body freezes. Do I not look okay? My confidence wanes for a moment until I see the heat in his eyes. They dilate, and he licks his lips.
Jake clears his throat and runs his hands through his hair. He strides over to me while muttering something under his breath. I think it’s a curse that hits my ears, but his voice is too soft to be able to tell for sure.
God, he is handsome. Why couldn’t I get ugly scrawny Joey as my guard? I can see the guilt and indecision all over Jake’s face. I wonder if he realises he lets his emotions show at times, or maybe he doesn’t realise his walls fall down every so often.. When we were talking to Marco, Jake was completely blank. I couldn’t see one flicker of emotion until Marco had left the room.
I wonder what made him who he is today. Did he have a bad childhood? No love from his parents? Is he as caught in this life as I am? His body screams power, but his eyes show me how lost he is, and as crazy as it sounds, I feel sorry for him.
I look away and laugh inside my head. How crazy is that? The man is holding me trapped, and I feel sorry for him. He’s the bad guy, Lily. Maybe I’m going crazy. Maybe all this is too much for me and I’m starting to lose it.
Jake steps up to me. “You look beautiful, Lily,” he announces softly. I’m amazed at his words. He thinks I’m beautiful? No, just a beautiful piece in the collection, to possess and control. Not a human being, a girl with a beating heart.
I take a step away from him. He doesn’t care for me. He only cares for himself. He flinches as I distance myself from him. Again, he shows me a piece of himself I don’t think he would show others.
Jake composes himself, and with his blank expression back, he grips the top of my arm tightly but not painfully, and pulls me to the bedroom door.
“Charles is downstairs waiting.” His tone is stern and absolute.
His words paralyse my heart, and I feel myself suffocating. Fear is pulling me under to a full-blown panic attack. Breathe. Inhale, exhale.
We stop just outside the door and Jake twists his head toward the girls. “Girls, clean this room and have it ready for when Lily returns.”
They all nod at the same time and start moving around the room.
Jake guides me down the hallway to the staircase, and I’m more alert now than when I climbed the stairs the first time. The walls are white with beautiful paintings strategically placed. There are tables against the walls with flowers, also chairs and sofas, all of them white or cream. This house screams sterile. Everything is clean, white and expensive.
We descend the staircase, and a thought enters my head. “While I was getting ready, did you see my sister?”
Jake answers, his voice toneless and uncaring. “No, I sat in the hallway the whole time.” My heart plummets. I need to find out something, anything, soon.
We step down from the stairs, and in a rash decision, I decide to make a run for it. My heart thumps hard against my chest. I clench my hands and bend at the knees ready to use all my strength to pull my arm out of Jake’s grasp and surprise him. My legs spring into a run and Jake’s hand slips off my arm. I’m starting down the hallway I saw Sasha dragged down. My mission, my aim is to get to her. Unfortunately, I’m not quick enough, and Jake has me by both my shoulders only a few steps away from where I started.
“Lily,” he growls in warning.
My body sags in disappointment, knowing I can’t match his strength. I give up, for now.
We exit out of the front door, and the same shiny black car that brought Sasha and me to this horrible place is parked right up at the front door. Jake walks me down the marble steps to the car. As he’s reaching for the door, I feel him pause for a moment; however, he comes out of his moment and opens the door.
“Please, Jake,” I say gently, resting my hand on his arm. “I can see you wavering. I can see you struggling with sending me off to God only knows what is waiting for me. Please help my sister and me. Marco isn’t here. Just get my sister and let us run. All you have to do is watch us leave, nothing else,” I implore.
Jake is silent for a few seconds, and for just a moment, my hope soars as I see him thinking it over. Jake shakes my hand off his arm, and my hope crashes and burns.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse. “Fuck.” He pauses again. “No, get in the car, Lily. There is no getting out of this. There’s nothing I can do.”
Jake pushes me gently into the car, and I go willingly, realising he may be fighting a war within himself, but there is no changing his mind. He wants something else more. Something more important to him than saving two trapped women will ever be. I’m numb as I sit and buckle myself in.
Jake leans into the car, his face expressionless but his eyes shine with misery. “I’m so fucking sorry.” His whispered voice radiates conviction and honesty.
He steps back from the car. The door closes, and the locks fall. The car drives down the driveway and I look out my window and watch Jake following the car with his eyes until we turn, and I can no longer see him. I only see black iron gates, men with guns, and my little sister locked inside.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Collection
I’m driven for about twenty-five minutes before I feel the car come to a stop. Nothing happens for a moment, so I unbuckle and try the door handle; however, it’s still locked. I hit the door hard with my fist.
“Shit.” Maybe I could just break the window with something, climb out, and run. But I have no idea where the mansion is, where Sasha is.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as the car door suddenly opens, and I’m yanked out by ice-cold hands. A huge man in a black suit, white shirt, black tie, and bald round head has hold of my upper arms while I try to twist and squirm out of his grasp. Breathless and feeling a burning sensation on my arms from trying to get free, I give up. I look up and see the unimpressed expression on his face, as if he’s seen a hundred trapped women, and he has no time for my hysterics. I’m nothing but a tiny annoying fly to this guy.
I decide to examine what is around me. I see an orange and white villa in front of me. It has archways that go the whole way around the front of the house. It’s much smaller than the mansion but stil
l substantial. It sits near the ocean. I hear the waves and spot the start of a sandy beach just to the right of the villa.
The massive man starts walking and I have to jog to keep up. Usually, I would tell him to slow the hell down, but this man does not seem like someone I want to upset. We walk under an archway and through an already open glass door. He takes me down a hallway. I look to my right and see a sitting area. The room looks like your average home by the beach. Painted blue and white, with pictures of boats and the ocean on the walls. I try to look to my left, but I miss my chance as Hulk moves us quickly down the hall.
He pulls me further into the villa, and then stops at a set of double wooden doors. I rub my fingers over my clammy palms as I watch him enter a code into the metal keypad on the door. He swings the door open, presses his cold hand to my bare back, and shoves me inside the room.
I yelp as I trip over my dress. Recovering, I turn quickly to grab the door, and it shuts in my face. I shake the handle and pound on the door. “Dammit!”
“It’s no use. They won’t open the door now until the party is ready for us.” I spin around at lightning speed, whipping myself with my braid, at hearing someone’s voice, a woman’s voice.
Too concerned with getting out, I didn’t look around to see I wasn’t alone.
I come face to face with a stunning brunette. Her skin is fair, and her hair is dark brown with caramel highlights and big curls falling down just below her elbows. She’s wearing a gorgeous, one-shouldered dark blue dress.
The woman holds her hand out to me. This time she speaks in a firm, businesslike manner. “My name is Emily.”
I take her hand, shake it, and introduce myself confidently. “Lily.”
She drops my hand and walks over to the lounge area where I see another four women, standing, staring at me.
Emily’s hand indicates to one of the women, my eyes find a Chinese woman. She is stunning with the bluest blue eyes I have ever seen, olive skin, and short jet-black hair to her chin. Her dress is bright pink with lace embroidery and a mermaid fish tail, a Chinese-style dress.