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10
Tatum
I wokethe next morning to the sound of a Lodge maid setting something down on the coffee table by the sofa.
Rubbing my eyes, I sat up. “What’s that?” I asked, craning my neck.
She lifted a vase from the table. “Flowers from your Master.”
I got out of bed and padded over to her. The vase was patterned blue and white china, filled with a mixture of pale and dark pink carnations. “Thank you for bringing them,” I murmured. “They’re beautiful.”
The maid nodded and left. I leaned down to breathe in the scent of the carnations. They’d always been my favorite flower. Beautiful and sweet-smelling, yet so underappreciated by so many people.
When I got back up, I realized there was something else on the table. A letter and a Venetian mask made of superlight golden filigree metal adorned with gems.
I tore open the envelope. Inside was an embossed invitation from Elias, humbly requesting my presence at a party tonight. If I chose to attend, I must wear the mask and a formal gown. No bra or panties.
I set the invitation down on the table and picked up the golden mask. It seemed redundant to wear it with Elias tonight. There were already masks on the two of us, invisible and ever-present. We hid our true thoughts and natures behind them as we pretended this was all normal. Pretended I actually had a choice in terms of attending this party.
Of course I didn’t.
After breakfast, lunch, and a long day of exploring in the west wing of the third floor, I returned to my room to select a gown for tonight’s party. Elias had had me measured and fitted a few days after my arrival, so my closet was now overflowing with beautiful designer dresses.
After several minutes of indecision, I chose a gown I could only describe as fantastic, with an intricate texture made up of hundreds of different pieces of black and gold fabric. I figured it would go well with the mask.
A striking middle-aged woman knocked at my door at six o’clock, saying she’d been sent to do my hair and makeup. I sat at the vanity as she fussed over me, and I wondered if she used to be a sex slave here, like the maid from earlier. Mellie once told me they were forced into other jobs at the Lodge once the men were tired of them.
I didn’t dare ask the woman, though. We weren’t supposed to talk about our captivity under any circumstances, and I didn’t know her well enough to trust her. The only person I could really talk to in this place was Pri.
The makeup artist left at a quarter to eight, and I was alone again until Elias knocked on my door at nine. He was wearing a tuxedo and a black and gold Venetian mask. As usual, the mere sight of him almost knocked the breath right out of my lungs.
“You look incredible,” he said, taking one of my hands and planting a kiss on it. His hot lips sent a bolt of fire through my veins.
“Thank you,” I murmured. He didn’t let go of my hand. Sugary trickles of desire wound up my spine. “Let me just get my mask.”
He nodded and stepped into my room, waiting for me to fix the mask on my face. I’d accidentally left the TV on, playing an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy. On the screen, a woman was howling and scrunching up her face as she tried to push out a baby.
“Nice image right there,” Elias said, a twinkle of dark humor in his eyes. “Just what we need to get us in a party mood.”
“Sorry. I forgot to turn it off.” I grabbed the remote, and I was about to switch the episode off when the straining pregnant woman onscreen reminded me of something. “Wait… before we go, can I ask you something?”
I half expected him to narrow his eyes and say no, but he nodded. “Make it quick. We’re already a bit late.”
I hurriedly told him what I’d seen up on the third floor the other day, in one of the private medical wings. His brows furrowed, and he shrugged. “It wouldn’t be any of the girls who work here. They’re all on contraception. It’s written in the contracts that they have to be.”
“That’s what I thought. So who were those women?”
“No idea. Could be guests.”
I arched a brow. “Guests?”
“Honestly, you’d be surprised at the people who come here just for vacations. People you’d never expect. But it makes sense. It’s a luxury retreat, after all. Bigger and better than most hotels. Those women are probably the wives of some rich guys who like to play, so they’re enjoying their pregnancies here with their husbands instead of staying at home.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I guess.”
I couldn’t think of anything worse than being pregnant and swollen and partying at a place which was essentially a high-class brothel. But each to their own.
Elias held out a hand. “Let’s go.”