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A little less than forty-eight hours from now, Darius and the hostages in the basement prison would be on their way to the United States.

The women would receive treatment at a secure facility and then returned to their families and homes.

Darius prayed they’d be able to put this horror behind them at some point, but he knew it would be difficult for Lahana and any others that Secada had raped.

Forty-eight more hours and that bastard would be dead, and Darius vowed he would be the one to slaughter him.

* * *

Sixteen hours later ...

Tahira shivered and wrapped her blanket tighter around her body as she sat on a threadbare mattress on the floor.

As dirty as the thing was, she’d been grateful when one of the guards had tossed three of them into the cell.

Although heat came through the ceiling vents, she still wasn't appropriately dressed for the cold, damp dungeon.

What she wouldn't give for an electric blanket right now—actually, she'd give up her crown for a one-star hotel in the United States or anywhere else than this prison right now.

Based on the meal deliveries, she and her cousins had been there for almost three days. How long would they and the other women be held until they were sold?

Sold .

That word conjured up all sorts of horrors.

She may be a virgin, but she was fully aware of the human trafficking that took place around the world.

A charity to help fight it was one of the many Tahira supported.

She’d heard all about the vile atrocities abducted women had been subjected to, with some of the stories coming directly from those who’d lived through it before being rescued.

Unfortunately, the number of those rescued was a stark contrast to the ones who’d been killed or were still being held captive in some unknown part of the world.

She glanced over at Lahana lying in a fetal position on her own mattress.

Her cousin had been sleeping on and off and had refused to talk about what had happened to her aside from the fact the bastard had hurt her.

Tahira’s cheek still hurt from when he’d struck her, so she couldn’t image the pain her cousin was in—her body was covered in bruises.

Even though she hadn’t been assaulted, Nala had also been very quiet since Lahana had been returned to the cell.

She was sitting against the stone wall with her arms holding her knees to her chest as she stared at the floor in front of her and rocked back and forth.

She’d been traumatized, yet in a different way.

The nineteen-year-old was terrified about what was going to happen to them and was emotionally and mentally shutting down.

While Tahira had never seen that happen to anyone before, she recalled talking to victims of human trafficking who mentioned they’d done the same thing as a coping mechanism.

In a way, Tahira envied Nala, but she knew that if they were rescued, Nala would need professional help to recover from their abduction just as much as Lahana would.

In the near silence of the cell area, footsteps echoed, announcing someone was coming down the stairs.

Tahira wasn’t the only one who’d heard them; the other women shifted around in their cells, probably trying to make themselves invisible, yet failing to do so.

They’d already gotten their dinner a little while ago, as meager as it had been, so the only reason someone would be coming down there at that hour couldn’t be good.

Tahira looked around. From what Melinda in the next cell had told her, none of those assaulted had been taken a second time.

Secada took a new woman each time. But maybe that wasn’t who was coming.

Melinda had said after Lahana had returned that they were safe for a few nights.

The perverted bastard only chose one of them once or twice a week.

All thoughts about safety fled her mind when Secada strolled through the door with two armed men on his heels.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tahira saw Nala tuck her head under her arms as she shivered uncontrollably.

She couldn’t let the younger woman be taken by the bastard.

Pushing her terror down, Tahira stood and moved so she was between the cell door and Nala, blocking her from Secada’s view as the man stopped in front of her.

His leering gaze trailed from her face to her feet and back again. A swirling black aura surrounded the man—pure evil. She shook under his scrutiny but wouldn’t back down. She couldn’t let his attention turn to Nala.

“Defiant, aren’t you? I love to break the defiant ones. To show them I hold all the power. And now that Diaz is out of the way, it’s my decision on whether or not I should sell your royal virginity or take it for myself.”

Oh, no. She had no idea what he meant about Diaz being out of the way, but right now, it didn’t matter.

Without conscious thought, she took a step back and to the side, and the man’s feral eyes flitted to Nala.

Tahira quickly blocked his view of the younger woman again, drawing his attention once again.

“Maybe I should let you wait for your fate and take her instead.”

Tahira’s eyes flared as her hands clenched. “Over my dead body.”

The man snorted. “Oh, princess, you wouldn’t be dead, but you’d wish you were. I can guarantee it.”

As he put the key into the lock of the cell door, Tahira took another step back before remembering Nala, then stood her ground. She would not let her cousin, who was in no condition to fight, take her place, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put up a fight.

She waited until the man entered the cell before lunging at him.

Her fingernails tried to claw his face, but he knocked them away before Tahira could do any damage.

Secada grabbed her upper arm in an agonizing grip and yanked her off balance.

She stumbled forward and stubbed her toes against the open cell door, but the pain didn’t register in her brain—only fear and rebellion. “Let me go!”

Tahira twisted and pulled her arm, trying to get free, but she was no match for the man’s strength.

Oh, why had she refused Amar’s numerous offers to teach her self-defense while in her teens?

With her ever-present bodyguards, she never thought she’d need to fight for her life.

But that’s what she was doing now. Maybe not her life, but her virginity, her mind, and her soul.

As Secada dragged her like a rag doll toward the door to the stairs, she heard one of the other men close the cell with a loud clang.

Several of the women sobbed, but no one made an attempt to come to her aid.

Not that there was anything they could do; just like she’d watched helplessly when Lahana had been taken.

But Tahira wasn’t going to go quietly. She’d raise hell every step of the way . .. and pray.