“What’s this ‘process’ I keep hearing about?” I asked. “Julian mentioned it too. But he wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”
Roman leaned back slightly, as if bracing himself for my reaction. “After a girl is caught in the hunt, she's brought to the estate. She stays here for several months, undergoing intensive training.”
A cold shiver slid down my spine. “Training in what?”
“Everything she'll need to know to be the wife of a powerful man,” he said. “Politics, social graces, etiquette. How to navigate high society, how to handle the media, how to protect herself and any future children. It's comprehensive.”
“Sounds a little like brainwashing,” I muttered. “Like some sort of Stepford Wives thing.”
“It's not brainwashing. It’s preparation,” he said. “These women marry senators, CEOs, diplomats. Sometimes even future presidents. So they need to know how to survive in thatworld. The training gives them the tools to do that, and to wield their own power within it.”
Once again, I wished Julian was here to answer my most pressing question: why the hell had he put my name on the List? Did he think he could train me into compliance so I’d stop investigating my sister’s death? Turn me into some polished robot of a political wife who'd forget that Cal ever existed?
Over my dead body.
My brows rose. “What if a girl doesn't want to be trained? If she refuses?”
“Refusals are extremely rare, because once the girls understand the incredible future that’s being offered to them, most of them want to stay. But if one of them truly can't adapt and wants out, or if she fails her training...” He paused. “Well, she's removed. She signs an NDA and returns to her old life.”
I blinked. “So when someone says a girl is removed… that’s all they mean? They’re not killed?”
Roman frowned. “No, of course not. We don’t kill Selection girls if they fail their training or simply decide the life isn’t for them. They’re just dismissed and sent home.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that this Club wasn't as monstrous as I'd imagined. But everything I'd learned about them told me not to trust a single word from a member’s mouth.
“I’ve heard all the stories,” I said in a low voice. “Girls who come back… changed. I even met one who ended up in a psychiatric hospital.”
“Well, think about it. Imagine spending months being convinced that you’re going to marry a billionaire or future president. You build it all up in your head; this life of unimaginable luxury and status,” he said. “Then, somewhere along the way, you do something that makes your Reaper realize that you’re not a suitable partner after all, and you’re removedfrom the equation and put back in your usual world, which suddenly seems so small and quaint.” Roman paused for a beat, tilting his head. “How do you think that would feel?”
“I guess it would feel like a huge loss,” I murmured.
“Exactly. Not all of the women feel that way after they leave. Some genuinely believe it’s not the life for them, and they’re happy to accept their return to the real world,” he said. “But a lot of them react very badly. They’re humiliated or even haunted by their failure. They feel that the life they wanted was dangled in front of them and then cruelly snatched away. And that takes a long time to get over.”
“Some never get over it,” I said stiffly. “The one I met, who ended up in the hospital… she had a major breakdown.”
“That’s unfortunate, but we can’t really predict or help someone else’s mental state,” he replied. “And that girl’s Reaper couldn’t possibly have known that would happen to her.”
“Right.” I frowned, mind still spinning. “But how can you be sure the failed girls will honor their NDAs? What if they get angry or upset enough to break them and expose the whole thing?”
“It’s a possibility, but it’s never happened. They’re too afraid of repercussions from the Club.”
“I see.” I cocked my head. “And what happens if a girl tries to escape during training? Before she’s signed any kind of NDA.”
Roman's expression darkened slightly. “That's... strongly discouraged.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the estate is heavily guarded. The grounds are monitored. There's nowhere to run that we won't find you.” He leaned forward. “But like I said, most girls don't want to leave once they understand what's being offered to them.”
“Right.” I nodded slowly. “Tell me something else. Why does the hunting part of the Selection exist? Why can’t you guys just date women and propose to them like normal people?”
“The hunt proves the Reaper is capable of claiming and keeping his woman,” Roman replied. “And it’s tradition. A fun one too, if you ask most of them.”
“Fun?” My eyebrows shot up. “We clearly have very different definitions of that word.”
His lips twitched. “It’s fun for the Reapers.”
“Right. Of course.” I exhaled sharply. “Another question. Why all the secrecy around the Selection? And why does the Club encourage all the rumors?”
