Page 21 of A Madness of Crows

But it’s Stefano who hesitates this time. “Keep your head down today. The more you talk back, the worse it is. And don’t talk to anyone. They don’t like that.”

I give him an incredulous look, and his lips thin as he turns away. “It can always get worse. Remember that. And Cecile will make this as difficult for you as possible.”

He leads me past the cages, and I keep my eyes on his back.

Frown.

“Why are you limping?”

Now he looks irritated, a scowl on his face as he glances back. “I’m not limping.”

I study his gait, noting the sudden stiffness in his back. And his shirt… it lookswet. He jerks when I lean forward to press it with my fingers. “The fuck are you doing?”

But I’m staring down at the scarlet smear on my skin.

“Leave it.” Ice cold words. I’ve pissed him off.

“But—,”

“Leave it alone,” he snaps the words, coming to a stop. “Jesus fucking Christ, Corvo. You have bigger issues to focus on.”

I’d rather think of anything else than what’s waiting for me up ahead.

Folding my arms, I watch as he continues on, thoughts whirling.

Definitelylimping, even though he’s trying to hide it.

What will he do to you? For sending them?

Nothing. I’m his heir, after all.

I’m starting to build up a clearer picture of Stefano Asante. His face is tight as he stops outside a door. “Leave your attitude here, Cat. Please. No matter what you see.”

He sounds… almost desperate.

But I’m also not a fool. So I nod, bracing myself.

“There you are.”

Cecile clicks her fingers as we walk in. Stefano’s hand is back, gripping my upper arm as he steers me to the end of the line of kneeling women. Guards are fucking everywhere in this room, watching from every wall as Cecile strolls up and down.

She pauses in front of me. “Clothes off.”

Stefano shifts behind me, his words terse. “She doesn’t need to be classified. She’s not product.”

Cecile smiles with red, glistening lips. “Are you interfering with my training, Stefano?”

Before he can respond, I drag the dress over my head, crumpling it in my hands before I toss it aside. I wasn’t given any underwear this morning. Shrugging, I raise my eyebrows at her.“I hated that fucking dress. You have truly shitty taste in clothes, Cecile.”

She eyes me. Stefano inhales behind me.

When she leans forward, I brace. Waiting for the slap, or punch.

But it’s notmeshe hits.

The dark-haired girl beside me curls over with a choked sob, clutching her face, and I take a step forward, my face twisting in anger. “What thefuck—,”

Guns point at me from every direction. Stefano yanks me back into the line, his hand pushing me down onto my knees with harsh strength. “Shut up.”