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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Mrs. Rothschild.” I folded my hands neatly.

She slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose as the white caftan she was donning flew gently in the breeze. She was lounging by the balcony that quite literally hung over the ocean. It was stunning. The gorgeous, bright blue water and the warmth of the sun felt unreal.

“Finally, you’re back. My God, they paired me with some dumb ass who gave me Stepford wives vibes. I needed you back, Demi, or else I was about to jet on my private jet.” She waited for me to laugh, but I think I had secondhand embarrassment for her.

Waving her sunglasses at me, she laughed. “See, this is why I needed you back. You’re not a kiss ass.”

I forced a smile, although my mind was spinning as I thought about my sister and the women in that room.

“And remember to just call me Sage, please.” She pointed at the empty seat next to her. “I request Zen time with a view. Really, I was hoping for a sexy, young pool boy to admire while here, but no, even in paradise, it’s all just beautiful women serving us.” She beamed at me.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked politely, the shake in my voice apparent, no matter how hard I tried to conceal it.

“Sit with me. I’m lonely.” She laid back on the lounge chair and slid her sunglasses back on. I hesitated for a moment, but ultimately, remembered that the role of a dove at La Gabbia was to entertain, serve, and worship the rich, bored housewives of the men who were funneling funds into this sick resort.

“It’s beautiful out there.” I was wearing a white suit-style romper with gold buttons. Crossing my legs, I squinted as I shielded my eyes with my hand.

“What is my husband doing down there?” Sage turned to me and took a long sip of champagne. I could see peony petals floating in the glass. “I know you got down there, and that’s why you’ve been missing.”

I shook my head and kept my eyes on the ocean. There was not a single person lying in the sand—it wasn’t allowed. The rules of the resort included not leaving the premise unless you were signed up for beach-side yoga or soul cleaning, which I had no idea what that even meant.

I looked at her. “He’s watching football, drinking beer, and bitching about you to the other guys.”

Nodding slowly, she processed what I had said. She peeled her sunglasses off her face and revealed her beautiful eyes that were mostly blue, but tinged with green.

“You’re a terrible liar. Did you know Declan and his ex-wife divorced because he would beat her black and blue? They’d be having sex, and he’d suddenly just want to choke the life out of her as foreplay.” Sage looked back toward the ocean.

“Why did you marry him, then?” This made complete sense to me, considering Declan tried to suffocate me and then enjoyed beating up a corpse before raping her.

“He chose me, and I’m such a pick-me girl.” Sage tilted her head up toward the sun.

“Does he ever hit you?” I instantly regretted the question as soon as it left my lips.

“Yeah, when he’s had a terrible day at work. He’s in finance and does all that stock trading stuff. I don’t know…I guess losing massive amounts of money can mean you just want to beat your wife after a work party.” Sage shrugged as I listened to the grief in her words.

“Better to be beat by a finance guy with millions than a drunk in a trailer, am I right?” She let out a dry laugh that I recognized as one of reassurance. Layla would do it when we were trapped inside a small dark closet for hours on end in our trafficker’s small apartment. She’d make dark humorous jokes, ending with that same laugh to make me feel safer and think she wasn’t worried.

“No, I don’t think you deserve that at all. I think, as women, we’ve just gotten so used to feeling powerless.”

Sage sat up. “Demi, the most dominant woman is the one who can have a powerful and wealthy man fall in love with her. Once you have him on a short leash, you can rule the world.”

I flung my feet back over and slid my padded white shoes back on. “What about a woman just becoming powerful on her own?”

Sage clicked her tongue and shook her head. “In this day and age? No, darling Demi, you must have a man on your team. You can destroy the rest that way. No one touches a powerful woman with a powerful man.”

I didn’t necessarily agree, but then again, I didn’t exactly disagree. I’d witnessed first-hand just how deep these wealthy people could dig. How much they could bury without even so much as a red flag waving.

They could get away with anything.

“Can you get me one of those smoothies? It’s some berry-floral one?”

“Of course.” Sage waved me away as I stood, and I brushed my hands through my hair. I missed my thick black hair that was always coated in coconut oil before Layla and I got sold by our own parents.

Our parents… It had been a very long time since I thought about them. My heart ached as I made my way through the gorgeous resort. I was thankful to be out of the lower level. Maybe Bradley and Marcie were right; I’d need to learn how to just accept this as my forever normal and be obedient. Why did I think I could be some sort of Nancy Drew and single-handedly go against wealth and power?

I walked through the hallways and stopped only to look at the photographs. It was the same sort of sorority house photos. Every single photo was of a woman with blonde hair and the eerie smile that sent chills up my spine.

* * *

I knew I couldn’t waste time and anger Sage. This was an easy job for me, and after last night, I needed to stay under the radar. Alister would return, and I needed a track record of me caring for Mrs. Rothschild. I walked into the kitchen where I had forgotten about the unique outfits, or lack thereof, for the staff.

But then my stomach flipped as I remembered the screen.

It was what the men were getting to watch. That’s why the girls were wearing heels and nothing but an apron and tiny lace shorts to cook in. It was part of the entertainment for the men.

“Could I please get the berry-floral smoothie?” I asked one of the girls who was washing a wineglass.

“Are you talking about our wellness smoothie, Pretty in Pink?”

“I think so…”

“Yeah, just go over to Taylor. She’s making them.” I nodded and slid against the wall toward the back, hoping to not be a part of this sick production.

“Taylor!” I waved at her as she was chopping fruits and vegetables on a cutting board.

She wiped her brow with her forearm and smiled at me. “Hi, need something?”

“One Pretty in Pink, please.” This felt like a normal job. It was kind of a relief to just be…normal for a moment.

Taylor blew out a breath. “You should learn how to make it, too. That’s our most popular smoothie.”

“Yes, I’d love to.” I washed my hands at the sink next to her and dried them quickly.

“Strawberry, ice, banana, spinach, raspberries…” She paused as I finished adding the ingredients into the blender.

“That powder right there…” She flinched as I reached for a container labeled, osso blend.

“What is this?” I opened it and grabbed the measuring spoon.

“Bone blend.”

My lips parted as I looked at her. “When the caged girls…”

“You mean, the nightingales?”

“They’re the same. The nightingales are the caged girls. Once they are finished and used, they get well… It’s just their bones.”

Taylor looked around. Luckily, we were tucked away into the side of the kitchen that couldn’t be seen well. She slid a small container of something in a deep shade of red, almost black. “Alister swears this is some youth smoothie because it contains the bones and blood of beautiful, submissive women.”

“I’m not putting this in there,” I whimpered as my fingers shook.

“You must, Demi. Don’t stray.” She grabbed it from me and put in two heaping spoons of it. Then, she handed me a bowl of peony petals.

I gagged as I put the top on and began to blend everything. I knew where peony flowers grew at Ian Ivory’s home, and I wondered where the graveyard was here on the island.

“If this one was hard to make, then you really don’t want to know what’s in the pineapple smoothie.”

“What?” My eyebrows knitted together as I shuddered.

“Semen.”