...............................
Ily
––––––––
“IS THERE ANY CHANCE YOU could be pregnant?”
My eyes snapped to the doctor’s.
When Peter dragged me away and marched me through opulence to the back of the castle where the ceilings lowered and the salacious tapestries no longer watched, I refused to say a word.
I’d allowed his cool hand to encircle mine and kept pace with his smooth but elegant walk. Our matching cuffs and collars bridged a fragile connection, but I couldn’t understand him.
If he was imprisoned like me, why obey Victor with such...dedication?
How could he help enslave me when he already knew the horrors of being enslaved himself?
I choked on those questions as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, studying his soft brown skin, clean-shaven cheeks, full sculptured lips, and thick, seductive eyelashes.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he had Indian blood. And as much as I didn’t want to find comfort in this house of horrors, a tiny part of me breathed a sigh of relief. He was familiar. A total stranger held the tiniest memory of home.
I wanted it to be true so badly my pulse skittered by the time he tugged me to a stop outside a heavy wooden door carved with images of ducks and pheasants in full flight.
He let me go to knock, and I couldn’t stop myself. “Kya aapaka naam sachmuch peetar hai?” (Is your name really Peter?)
His fist fell away from the door. He gawked at me.
Our eyes locked, and the dark depths of his gave me somewhere to hide and be safe, just like Krish’s did. “You speak Hindi?” He pursed his lips and cocked his head. His gaze studied my face, no doubt trying to figure out who the hell I was. Then again, I couldn’t work him out either. With his English accent and worldly eyes, I didn’t know if it was a mask he wore or true origins.
“I’m—”
The door swung open, and a female nurse ushered us inside. “Come, come. We’ve been expecting her. No time like the present.”
And that’d been the only words we’d spoken to each other as I’d been told to sit on a hard table, undergone an intense physical, then had my arm yanked out, a needle stabbed into my vein, and blood drawn against my will.
Peter stood by the door, his arms crossed and face unreadable while I was poked and prodded. Whenever our eyes met, he’d scowl and study me harder, no doubt trying to piece together my black hair and light eyes or the fact that my skin matched a shade darker than honey.
When I was younger, our community would always make a fuss over me. They’d claim I was blessed by the sun—thanks to my golden eyes. They’d whisper that I was cursed—thanks to not knowing a single thing about my birth parents.
Was I mixed race? Was I Indian, Persian, English, or Tibetan? What blood flowed in my veins that the doctor currently labelled and tested for sexually transmitted diseases?
Sometimes, late at night, Krish and I would make up tales about the unknown maharaja Father said I came from. Maybe he had eyes like mine. Maybe my mother was queen of the Kingdom of Agartha: the long-lost crystal city hidden inside a hollow Earth. Perhaps I was delivered by fate itself, given to Krish so he was never alone.
Ever since that day, when I’d been found on the steps of the local hospital and adopted by the local cardiologist and his adoring wife—all because their special needs son fell in love with me—I’d been blessed. And I wouldn’t give up that blessing just because I’d somehow fallen into hell.
“Did you hear me?” The doctor pulled off her mask and tilted her head. “Could you be pregnant? I need to know before I administer this.” She held up the syringe that I assumed held a form of contraception.
Contraception because I’d be having unprotected sex.
Lots of it.
With lots of men.
I-I’m going to be sick.
Wedging my fists into my middle, I pressed on the hot, terrified knot inside me. All through the exam, I’d bristled. The fact that she was here—working for a trafficker, tending to his slaves, and doing his illegal bidding—made me violently nauseous.
“How do you do it?” I asked coldly, ignoring her question for the second time. “How do you work for him, knowing what’s in store for me?”