Page 10

ALLURE

The scent of jasmine and rose oil hit first, soft and almost luxurious, like a hotel spa instead of the basement of a man who collects women like exotic birds.

It never made the space feel gentler, only more twisted.

Like he thought if he pumped sweet air into a room full of suffering, it would cancel out the sin.

It didn’t.

The air down here always felt too still. Like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

I moved down the stairs with a tray in my hands, heavy with bowls of food.

Irina trailed behind me, barefoot, her heels dangling from her fingers.

Her curls were tied into a loose bun, her gold earrings catching the low light from the sconces overhead.

She was quiet—nervous, even. I could hear the hesitation in every step she took.

She hated coming down here. She said so every time.

But today she’d insisted on following me. Claimed she wanted to see how the girls were doing. What she really wanted was probably to ease her guilt.

I didn’t blame her. Not fully. She’d grown up in this place too. She was just on the prettier side of the prison gates.

I reached the bottom step and flicked the switch.

Lights buzzed overhead, bathing the space in that cold, clinical glow that made everything look more pristine than it felt.

The enclosures lit up like showrooms—seven in total.

Floor-to-ceiling glass. Each one spotless.

Inside, the women stirred in their white robes, their faces expressionless but alert.

They always knew when it was feeding time.

Kierra looked up first, her eyes searching for mine like she was waiting for some kind of reassurance I could never quite give. I bent down and slid the bowl through the hatch.

“There you go, K,” I said softly.

Her hands trembled as she reached for it, but she didn’t speak. Kierra hadn’t spoken in nearly six months. Not since Boaz punished her for biting his hand when he got too close.

Chyna was next. .She gave the smallest nod. Her lips moved like she wanted to say thank you, but nothing came out. Not because she couldn’t—but because she’d learned the cost of gratitude in this house.

I went one by one—Dani, Mercy, Naya, Zulema, and Lea. I said each of their names aloud. I always said their names. It was the only reminder they had that they were still human. The guards kept them drugged up and dazed so they didn’t speak much.

I could feel Irina behind me, shifting uncomfortably, the tray of cut-up fruit she’d brought still untouched in her hands.

“I hate being down here,” she muttered finally, her voice low.

I didn’t turn around. “Then why did you come?”

She hesitated. “I wanted to help.”

“No, you didn’t,” I said, straightening up and finally looking at her. “You came because you needed to prove to yourself that you’re still a good person.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“You hate this?” I continued, “Then stop it. You have power. You could end this.”

“I’m not going to defy my father,” she snapped, defensive now.

“Then don’t pretend you’re better than him.” My voice was cold. Flat. “You get to walk away from this every time. They don’t.”

She looked away, her shoulders stiffening. I didn’t expect her to understand. Not really. People like Irina lived in a world where privilege could masquerade as powerlessness. Where turning a blind eye was as easy as changing clothes.

We finished our rounds in silence. After locking up, we headed back upstairs. The jasmine scent lingered on my robe like perfume on bruised skin.

When we reached my room, Irina flopped onto my bed, legs swinging over the edge. She looked like a girl again. Carefree. Naive. Like she didn’t just come from a basement full of women who hadn’t seen daylight in years.

“I know your father is sick but are you still having your party tomorrow?” I asked, sliding the tray onto my desk.

She nodded quickly, perking up. “Yeah. Gilded Cage is letting me do a full takeover. I have this gold lamè dress made custom from Dior. It’s going to be amazing.”

I forced a smile. “I wish I could be there.”

Irina sighed and looked away with sadness in her eyes. “You always say that.”

I watched her for a beat, my heart starting to pick up in my chest. Then I said, “What if I could be?”

She paused. “What?”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “What if you snuck me out? Just for the party. No one would notice. Security’s been lax ever since Boaz went to the hospital. Avi’s preoccupied. The staff are barely paying attention.”

Her expression twisted. “Allure, are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is? If my father finds out—if Avi finds out?—”

“He won’t,” I said firmly. “You’re the only one who could do this. I trust you.”

She stood and began pacing. “If anything goes wrong?—”

“It won’t. Please, Irina. Just for one night. Let me remember what it feels like to be a person.”

She paused again, chewing her lip, torn between fear and guilt.

Then finally, she nodded.

“Okay. But you have to come back. That same night. No disappearing acts. No running off. You swear?”

I nodded slowly, my face calm.

“I swear.”

But deep down, where the truth pulsed in my bones, I already knew—I had no intention of coming back.

Not this time.

And definitely not for her.