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CHAPTER TEN

Anu had disappeared, leaving me standing in the corner. I glanced around but couldn’t see any small red lights flickering, which were always attached to the cameras in La Gabbia.

Sliding against the wall, I looked around the space until I was directly in front of the cage.

The enormous, rustic gold cage sat in the middle of a massive, all black stage. A light shone directly onto a small golden swing, which hung from the center. My heart raced as the silence of the space intimidated me.

“Why are you standing around? The show is about to start!” I spun around and my eyes locked onto piercing green eyes and shiny black hair that was matted down with gel. “Who are you?”

“I’m…”

Shaking his head, he grabbed my arm and tugged me away. “Alister will slit your throat, and mine, if we mess this up.” My ankle almost twisted as I picked up my pace in the slightly too large black heels.

“What…” I started, but the man pulled me through thick drapery. There were girls everywhere, yet it was pin-drop silent.

They were all sitting quietly in front of the wall-to-wall vanities. It was incredibly dark beyond the small flicker of light from the small lamp perched on each girl’s table. They were painting their eyes in black shadow, their hair was slicked back in a neat bun, and they all wore the same black tulle dress I was wearing.

It resembled what I always envisioned a dressing room for a ballet to look like.

“I’m Carlo.” The man who dragged me in pointed to an empty vanity. “Go, slick your hair back and fix your makeup.” He paused and studied my expression. “Fuck, you’ve never done training, have you?”

Placing my hand on my chest, I hoped I could steady my breath and rapidly beating heart. “Training for what?” I swallowed.

Carlo shook his head and slapped his hand that had one of the same rings as Alister—a thick gold band, encrusted with two birds.

A dove and a nightingale.

“Training for the nightingales.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“I thought you were the new recruit after Harley died.” Carlo’s eyes were lined in thick black liner and smudged out.

“Come on, I can’t have any of you girls messing this up for me.” He shoved me toward the empty vanity and sat me down in the plush seat.

Looking at the girl next to me, I slumped over the neatly lined makeup and hair products.

“Karina,” she whispered and stuck her hand out.

Forcing a small smile, I laced my fingers with hers. Her hands were frigid as she stared at my lips.

“Wipe that off.” She sighed.

I was confused as I let go of her hand and looked into the mirror.

I reached for a tissue and questioned, “The nude lipstick?”

“The smile.” She turned away and added more gel to her hair.

Breathing out, I knew what was coming next would be something I’d never unsee. But I had experienced this with Ian Ivory and his family. How could Alister Ivory or a fancy resort be worse?

“Did they put the IUD in?” Karina rubbed her lips together.

Nodding, I blew out a breath of air. “Yes. As soon as I got here.”

“Oh, so you’re a pure nightingale, not a breeder. Lucky you.”

My stomach flipped. “What is…”

Karina spun around on her stool and looked around before leaning toward me with a makeup brush. She began adding blush to my cheeks. “I’m a nightingale, too. Thank God. I’d rather drown myself than be a breeder.”

“I don’t understand the difference.”

Karina pursed her neatly nude-painted lips. “The Ivory family loves their birds. But you already know that, don’t you, beautiful Demi.” Karina winked at me before pulling my stool closer to hers.

“Doves are the girls upstairs; they take care of the wives who come here. It’s the best job you can have at La Gabbia, because it’s the lowest risk. You just serve the rich bitches who are neglected by their asshole husbands and make sure they want to come back. I know they say the wives earned their spots with everything, but I think they are just spoiled women. The doves go through sensory deprivation and are kept in all white cages until they are trained to be submissive people-pleasers. Next up is us…the nightingales. We are trained in the darkness.” Karina shuddered. “I’m guessing you just skipped through, being the favorite girl and all…” She licked her thumb and brushed it against my hairline.

“How did you know about…” I trailed off as light music began to play all around us.

“Shit, it’s almost time to go.” Karina cupped my cheek.

“We had to live in pitch-black cages for six months. This entire part of La Gabbia is a fantasy—it’s called the euphoria floor or sometimes the euphoria program. Their wildest fantasies are only what they see in their dreams. In the darkest depths of their imaginations. But the reason there’s so many of us is because we don’t all survive. At the end of each guest’s stay, a girl is killed.” Karina’s eyes grew moist.

“Russian roulette.” She shrugged. “They need to stock the fridge and all.”

The other girls started to line up after neatly tucking in their stools.

“What do you mean, Russian roulette? And why does a girl die at the end of each guest’s stay? The fridge? Stocking it with what?”

Karina stood and brushed her hands down the tulle skirt. “Demi, this is all a fantasy for them and for him.” She pointed at a framed image I would have otherwise missed.

Alister Ivory.

“The men who come to La Gabbia are invited because they are pre-screened. They are the richest men—the ones who own, control, and are used to having everything their way. Their marriages are in shambles, yet they need it for an image. So, La Gabbia was built on the false notion that couples come here and find solace. These men all know what it really is. They know they get to descend into the darkness, doing anything and everything they’ve ever wanted to. Things you’d be too embarrassed to say out loud. They want to feel powerful and masculine. They are gifted a nightingale. We are here to serve and obey and to make their fantasies come to life. But at the end…Alister has them do one thing that seals the fact that he is the most powerful man in the world. He controls everyone, including all these men.”

“Showtime, ladies!”

One by one, the girls all stopped in front of the massive image of Alister Ivory, bowing their head and clasping their hands together.

He is their god.

Karina looked at me as a straggling tear fell down her cheek. “I’m only here again because my previous client couldn’t do it.”

“Do what?” My legs shook as I stood and watched how void of any emotion, they all were.

“He couldn’t kill me. So, they killed him. Then they hung him upside down on stage and let him bleed out as a warning to the other guests. Kill or be killed.”