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The door has biometric protection, so that confirms that it's not just an ordinary space. Bringing my smart watch into view, I try to tap into the framework, a little bummed when I realize it's a closed network and I can't access it as easily.

Not one to despair, I simply pull the panel from the door, quickly inspecting the wires. I have to admit that my engineering skills are rudimentary at best, but I've been known to hot-wire a few things in my life. And so a few minutes of trial and error and the door is broken—I mean open.

As soon as we enter inside, however, the difference is stark.

This room is sterile, the smell of bleach permeating the air. It almost looks lab-like in its immaculate condition.

White walls, white floors, and four electric doors.

"Dead end," I comment as I realize the doors are likely cages of some kind, each one of them having a tiny opening to allow for food.

"This looks like a mental ward," Marcello notes as he walks around.

Out of nowhere, there is a bang against one of the doors, followed by a few other bangs in each of the others.

"There's someone inside." Marcello goes to one door, returning the knock to let them know we are there.

"We need to figure out how to open these doors," I say as I study each one in part, noting they are opened by ID cards plus biometrics.

"I guess we'll have to do a repeat of the other door," I mutter dryly when I see there's no other way to open them without breaking them down. And so I quietly get to work on the first door, taking out the electrical panel and playing with the wires. Once I have a winning combination, it's all a matter of repeating it for the other doors.

"You never fail to amaze me," Sisi whispers as she raises herself on her tip-toes to kiss my cheek.

"You need to lay low with the skinship, hell girl. You know my mind can only juggle so many things at once," I murmur softly.

Truth is, when it comes to her, my mind can't take anything elsebuther.

"Vlad," I hear Bianca's voice in the comm. "I think we found the main area. There's a huge arena here," she continues, describing an arena the size of a football field, full with multiple levels for spectators.

"Damn," I mutter, realizing exactly what that's for.

Suddenly memories of the trials we'd been put through resurface in my mind. How Miles had pitted us against each other.

The winner takes it all.

And I'd become so addicted to getting his approval that I'd done everything to win those trials. I'd killed, maimed, and tortured. No one had been spared from my singular purpose.

Become the best.

Remembering the things I'd done just to gain his acceptance makes my skin crawl. Because I might loathe him with all my being now. But at one point I didn't. I looked up to him.

"We'll meet you there after we check something here," I tell her, briefly explaining what we'd found.

"Vlad," Marcello calls out, his brows pinched together as he looks from door to door. "We opened the doors, yetno onetried to come out," he points out and I frown.

"You're right."

Without any preamble, I yank the first door open, surprised to see a girl who couldn't be older than ten or eleven sitting at the end of the room, her back against the wall, her eyes wide as she looks at us in fear.

"What…" Sisi whispers as she gets a better view of the girl.

Surprisingly, she looks healthy. In fact, even her clothes are clean, which isnotsomething I would have expected given what I know about how Miles conducts his experiments.

Curious to see who else is in the other rooms, I open the next one, and the next, until I'm at the last one.

All of them house prepubescent girls.

All but the last.