They can't be. I was there, witnessing the punishment they were too eager to bestow upon her.
The elevator doors slide shut behind us, sealing in a silence that's thicker than concrete. Valentina stares forward, pretending like she hasn't been ripped open and stitched back together by people who think pain is devotion.
The elevator hums, descending to the ground. The doors open in the lobby, and we exit the building.
Vito waits by the passenger door. He scowls at me.
I return the expression and slide next to Valentina. I ask, "Want to tell me where we're going?"
She shrugs. "Like I know."
I dramatically sigh, then sit back in the car. Ten minutes later, we're at the private airport. The SUV pulls up to the staircase attached to a black jet. We say nothing and board.
Inside the plane, dim lights glow. There's a stewardess who doesn't look at us. The sealed captain's chamber provides no indication of whether the pilot is inside.
Valentina sits by the window, pulls her seat belt tight, and angles her body away.
"Message received, Minx," I mumble and take the seat across from her, then lean my head back. "It would be nice to know if it's something dangerous we're walking into."
She snaps her gaze toward me, then just as quickly diverts it. "It's always dangerous."
The engines roar. The staircase moves away from the jet and the cabin vibrates.
I try again. "Val?—"
"Don't," she warns quietly in a defeated voice.
So I shut up.
Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift off, lulled into a shallow, uneasy sleep filled with flashes of her muffled screams as they branded her. I wake with my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache, and the wheels hitting the ground.
Valentina unbuckles her belt and rises.
I follow.
We step off the plane and into a narrow hallway lined with sconce lights flickering orange. The air smells like earth, soot, old stone, and something colder.
She leads us down it, passing several unmarked doors. The passage twists so many times that I get disoriented.
"What is this place?" I finally ask.
"Stop asking questions, Brax. And don't forget, they're always listening and watching," she warns.
A chill digs into my bones. I adhere to her warning, looking for recording devices, but I don't see any.
She stops in front of a heavy metal door with two wooden hinges bolted into the wall beside it. On one hanger, a crimson thong with a matching red satin eye mask dangles. On the other hangs a black tuxedo jacket, crisp white shirt, black pants, and a red, gleaming skull mask.
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. I step in front of her, blocking the door. "What the hell are we walking into?"
She pushes past me and grabs the thong off the hanger. "I don't know."
"Then how do you know where to go?"
"I said I don't know, Brax." Her voice cracks just slightly. She swallows, avoiding my eyes. "This wasn't on the agenda. I was summoned. Same as you."
Summoned.
Because they own me.
