“How big is it?”
“Enormous.” He shrugs like that’s all he can possibly say.
“What about the Resort?” I remember Mass mentioned something about a resort on the plane.
“That’s on the other side of the island. But you’re not allowed over there.”
“What do you mean?”
“The island is split. Over here is Mr. Cardone’s private home inside the Fortress. Over there is the Resort. It’s like a five-star hotel for extremely wealthy and powerful clients.”
Hope blossoms in my chest. If there’s some kind of vacation place on this island, that means there are other ways of gettingon and off. Which means boats, planes, friendly people, and escape.
There’s a way out after all.
All I’ll have to do is scale the massive walls surrounding the Fortress, squeeze through the barbed wire, and do it all with my daughter tucked under my arm.
The driver takes us through a well-protected gate. The cars park in front of a big entrance like something I’ve only seen at banks and downtown office buildings. Mass went inside already, and I’m whisked away by a small legion of house staff wearing black and acting friendly.
But I remember Lucy’s warning.
They’re all loyal tohim. Otherwise, why stay in a place like this?
I carry Rosie as we enter the Fortress. The scale of the place takes my breath away. It’s like a massive hotel with people walking all over the place. I remember visiting Vegas with my family and feeling dwarfed by the enormity of the casinos, but this is even worse. I’m hurried along into an elevator with only a single button. “This is Mr. Cardone’s private quarters,” an older woman explains. The doors close and we’re whisked upwards to the top floor. “He likes the view,” she says with a wink as we step out into a lavish apartment.
I’m completely speechless. I’ve been living in the Russo mansion for so long, and I’ve gotten used to fading opulence. My home was filled with fraying rugs and peeling wallpaper.
But this place is pristine. Marble floors buffed to a shine. Impeccable modern furniture. Everything is white, black, and gray. There’s not a splash of color anywhere.
I try to imagine Rosie living here. We’re going to need rugs.
“My name’s Satya, and I’ll take care of anything you want. I’ll be your primary contact. You want something? Don’t hesitate to ask. I’m told to provide you with whatever you need.” She eyes me up and down, frowning. “I suppose we’d better start with a bath and some fresh clothes. How about you give me that little one while you freshen up?”
“Absolutely not.” I pull away, my heart racing suddenly at the thought of giving my daughter to a woman who works for that monster.
She doesn’t seem bothered by my reaction. She only smiles and holds up her hands. “Fair enough, should’ve thought more. Where you go, the baby girl goes too. And such a little cutie. Beautiful little Rosie.”
“How do you know her name?”
“I was briefed on you, Mrs. Cardone. Now, come right this way. I’ll show you the place and let you get settled…” She talks as she goes, and I follow numbly.
She was briefed, which means all these people knew I was coming. They knew what Mass was going to do, and she’s acting like it’s not a big deal. I want to scream. How is this happening? How am I here, in the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen, with what is probably a top-ten-in-the-world view of the ocean and pristine white sand beaches, while also being a victim of a horrific kidnapping and murder?
It makes no sense. None of this makes sense.
“And here’s the bedroom.” She pushes open a set of double doors.
Of course. The sheets are black. The headboard is cushioned in black velvet. The furniture is all dark wood. She starts showing me around, but I refuse to step inside.
This ishisdomain. “I want my own space. I want my own room.”
Satya hesitates. She frowns and looks slightly uncomfortable. “That’s not possible, I’m afraid.”
“What about anything I want?”
“There are some restrictions. No phone, no internet, no separate space. While you’re here?—”
“While I’m a prisoner?”
