I look up from my dinner at the man standing in the doorway and work hard not to react to his tone.Since I’ve been here everyone has treated me with various amounts of respect, depending on who they are, but the servant now staring at me looks like he thinks I’m nothing more than a bug on his shoe.
And I’m wanted outside.
Terrific.
My father is out there with some of his men, and I’m immediately on edge at being summoned like this.When I got back to the mansion this morning in one of Lucien’s dress shirts and a pair of his pants, my father stopped his breakfast long enough to give me a long, leering stare, and then went back to his food, leaving me with the creeping feeling that I’d somehow done exactly what he expected.
Now that I’m called to some sort of business meeting without any warning, though, I’m starting to wonder what exactly that meant.This morning I thought it was because I’d so obviously been ravaged by Lucien.
As I stand, though, I realize that it might have more to do with the girls who’ve gone missing.He must have noticed by now, though he hasn’t said anything to me.
And if the wrong people are talking to him, I’m sure they’re mentioning me as the most likely perpetrator of any mischief.
Right.If he asks, I’ll give him the story I’ve already prepared.Masked men came into the warehouse while I was there trying to learning the ropes.They held me at gunpoint while they shot my father’s men and stole the girls.I know nothing.I didn’t see their faces and they didn’t exactly introduce themselves.I ran outside to try to catch them, and that’s when Dom’s men found me.
As far as the girls in the basement, I know nothing.I was in the bathroom upstairs at the time.
Insert innocent shrug.
They’re very valid excuses, as far as I can see.I don’t know the intricacies of human smuggling, but surely there are competitors, and surely competitors steal merchandise when and where they can.My father’s security at the warehouse wasn’t exactly tight.
Honestly, I’m surprised people haven’t broken in before–or maybe they have, and he just doesn’t like to mention it to the daughter who’s just been kidnapped and forced into a leadership position in the family.
I walk stiffly toward the door, the ache between my legs echoed by bruises up and down my neck and stomach, each of those marks murmuring Lucien’s name.As if my mind isn’t already as full of him as it can be.
When I get through the foyer and into the garden courtyard behind the house, and catch sight of my father’s face, I wonder again why I didn’t just leave with Lucien like he wanted me to.He talked for at least five minutes straight, giving me every reason he could think of for me to escape with him rather than going back to my father.
I told him no, of course.Not only because my father would go to war against the Boudreaux to try to get me back, but also because I still have work to do on the inside.
Namely, finding my brother and Lucien’s sister and getting them out of here alive.
I can’t leave until I have them, and once I pointed that out, he agreed with me.
Still, I’m allowed to regret that decision.Every second I stay here is another second when my father might kill me.I don’t want to go meet with him I want to go upstairs and go to bed.Wake up in Lucien’s house with his hands on me and his promise that I’m safe.
Instead, I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath, and put my mask back on as I walk out to meet my father and find out what he wants this time.He’s seated in the moonlight tonight, surrounded by wrought iron and magnolia trees, sculptures and old stone.Torches and men in dark suits.It looks like a Hollywood set.A scene where bad people do bad things.
And I’m walking right into it.
“Dominick,” I say when I reach him.
He makes a face.“I wish you would stop calling me, that, daughter.”
I return the face.“And I wish you would use my name.So I suppose we’re even.”
His face registers displeasure at that, but he clear the expression and puts on a look of satisfaction.“I’ve heard you played very well at the poker tables.Even took some money off one of my men.”
I cringe at the way he says it like it’s some sort of surprise that I know how to play poker, but don’t answer.That wasn’t the sort of statement that required any input from me.
“I’m giving you a promotion,” he continues.“A position with more power, if you will.Your own crew.Higher access to our process.More power with the clients.”
He looks at me like I should be jumping up and down with joy, and he’s confused that I’m not.
But he’s just offered me the most double-edged knife possible.A promotion with more power.Terrific; that means I have access to more information, which can help me in my mission.But my own crew also means he’s expecting me to take a more active role in things like collecting girls and transporting them to the warehouse.
Which means that we’ve reached the line where my undercover work crosses over into active complicity.I’ll be stealing girls off the street and bringing them into a life that they’ll kill themselves to escape.
And if I refuse to do it, I’ll be killed myself.
