“I said,sitdown,” he snarled this time, throwing me down in the chair while Jürgen held mum.
She glared through her hair, lips lifting into a snarl. She was completely naked, wounds from the whip open and red.
“You really thought stealing all that data would protect you, but look at you now,” he sneered down at mum. “Without an ounce of evidence, and exactly where you’re supposed to be.” Caretaker clicked his fingers, sitting in his own chair opposite. “Serve us.”
Mum took a moment to respond, her movements rigid as if she hurt. Bruises were already blossoming, mottling her pale skin. I couldn’t stop my tears from falling, the taste bitter on my tongue.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she, Violet?” he said, and it took me a moment to realise he wasn’t speaking to me. He was speaking to her. “Exactly how I pictured her.”
“Mum…” was all I could manage, my voice splintered. “Mum… please.”
But she didn’t respond, reaching for the wine bottle and carefully pouring him a glass. She wouldn’t meet my eyes when she served me, her arms shaking.
“I think Emil will be happy with the way she’s grown, although he’d have preferred her younger.” He removed his bowtie entirely and placed the fabric onto the table beside his cutlery. “He’s already been informed she’s back, and I’m sure he’ll be waiting once we land.”
Mum stiffened, eyes widening in horror. “No,” she whispered, more of an exhale of air.
“Who’s Emil?” I managed to ask, ignoring the food that Jürgen placed down in front of me as if we were at some formal dinner.
“Well, he’s your owner.” He lifted the wine glass to the light, the red clinging to the rim like blood. “Over two decades I’ve owed him this life-debt, and now that you’re home, I can finally settle it.”
“Life-debt?” The words felt heavy on my tongue. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “Once upon a time, there was an… incident. One of my more powerful clients believed I’d stolen from him.” He swirled the glass. “His doll got pregnant while under my training.”
“With me?”
Caretaker laughed, the sound harsh. “Yes. A miscalculation I had no intention of confessing. But then your mother died and, well…” He spread his hands. “Suddenly, the misunderstanding became a very real offence. You see, she was his favourite doll. He had a thing for small blondes, and it had taken him years to find one that fits his… tastes. So when she died, he was rather displeased. Blamed me, of course.”
“Please, please, please, no,” mum whispered in horror.
“As I said, he is one of my more powerful clients. And when a man like that becomes disappointed… he becomes dangerous.”
“So you sold me to save yourself? I was a baby!” I cried.
His eyes flicked to me, steady and unblinking. “It was more of a promise. He agreed to spare me if I handed over you, the perfect substitute.”
My mouth went dry. Every part of me screamed to run, but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.
“You were her copy, and more importantly, you were a blank slate. Imagine having your doll trained from so young? Knowing nothing but obedience? Trained exclusively forhim.”
I shook my head, barely able to whisper, “I wasn’t raised for anything like this.”
“All whores are raised for this. Just ask Violet.”
I turned toward mum, but she refused to look at me, her hands clenching around the bottle of wine so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Now, imagine his disappointment when you were taken.” His mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “He nearly killed me for it. But,” he went on, “we came to an agreement. One that left me with a very large debt hanging over my head. And now, I finally get to pay it off.”
“So what, you’re going to train me?” I asked, the question hollow. “Make me beg like a dog?”
“Not right away,” he said. “It seems Emil wants the honour of breaking you in himself, before you’re formally returned for training.”
“He doesn’t get to touch her!” Mum finally hissed, stepping forward to throw the remaining wine. Red splashed across Caretaker’s shirt, dripping down like blood.
I sat frozen as he yanked her onto his lap, pinning her by her throat.
“Still jealous I see, Violet,” he grunted as she fought. With a click of his fingers, Jürgen stepped forward with a knife.
