Page 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Demi, you need a shower and have Kandi do your makeup and hair. You look terrible,” Marcie said as she brushed her long blonde hair and I laid in my bed.

“Marcie, do you know where Jamie is?” I was staring at the ceiling, trying to not replay what Dr. Davenport had done to me a mere few hours ago. I was in agonizing pain, even though they injected me with a cocktail of pain medications and slathered numbing cream all over my vagina.

“I don’t know. I think she left the resort and went back home.”

“Yeah, because that’s a likely explanation.” I rolled my eyes, knowing Marcie was just lying to me so I would let it go. “Marcie, can I ask you how you really ended up here?”

Marcie stopped brushing her hair and put the gold vintage hair brushes down neatly on her vanity.

“I found myself like most of the girls here, Demi. No one loved me, no one cared where I was, and now here, someone must know where I always am. I have a home. I have a job and a place that is my own.”

“I miss my sister.” I wiped the tear rolling down my face. “All this time I thought I had killed her, but she was here. How… Did you know her?” I pushed myself upward in bed and looked at Marcie. She was sitting in nothing but a white lace bra and matching lace shorts.

Marcie spun around in her chair. “Isn’t she the reason you were led to the Ivory estate in Charlotte? Didn’t she betray you?” Standing, she pulled a white dress over her body. “Demi, stop being pathetic and just live your life.”

“You need to go back to Mrs. Rothschild today; she’s been asking too many questions about her husband. She gets to go to the store today, and that will help distract her from the massive mishap we’ve had with her dumbass husband. The store and Life Center are on the tenth floor. Make sure to use your badge and have Mrs. Rothschild bring her documents.”

I nodded but was barely listening to the rest of what Marcie was talking about. “What happened to him? What happened to her husband?” I brushed my hand across my neck, remembering our interaction.

“Didn’t he almost choke you to death and try to rape you?” Marcie flicked her eyes over at me.

Nodding, I slid out of bed and sat at my own small vanity. I did look like a wreck.

“Do you think Alister Ivory liked that?” she asked me.

I shrugged. “He made him have sex with a dead woman.”

“He has still yet to pay the price of touching what is Alister’s.”

“What is his?”

Marcie flicked her hair over her shoulder. “You.”

My breathing hitched. I knew he took a special interest in me.

“Demi, Mr. Ivory wants you to meet him in the peony garden tonight at eight.”

Chills ran up my arms as I looked at her. “There’s a peony garden?”

Marcie nodded. “Of course. Where else would the good ones get to rest?”

“Marcie…” But before I could even ask what she meant, she left the room.

What did Alister want from me? I brushed my hair into a tight ponytail and quickly wiped the smudged eye makeup off completely. I wanted to kill Dr. Davenport, and I would, but I knew I couldn’t do anything I wanted to without someone else. Someone far more powerful.

I needed to go tend to Mrs. Rothschild and find Bradley. I wasn’t crazy; I know I saw my sister. I needed to find her, and I needed to find Jamie, now. I had to figure out where these girls were disappearing to.

Exhaling, I looked into the mirror. “You cannot be good anymore, Demi. Good has only hurt you.” Swiping the nude lipstick across my lips, I smacked them together and smiled, even though I cried with every step I took. I had to ignore the burning pain between my legs.

Why be a victim when you can just get ahead and be the villain?

* * *

“Demi, today I get to visit the store and then, I get to see Declan. I’m getting quite homesick now and triggered here, if I’m honest.”

Sage Rothschild was wearing a fitted white jumpsuit, small pearls, and clutched her designer bag to her chest. She was looking around with paranoia seeping out of her.

“Okay, that’s fine. We can go to the store, and then I’ll ask the front desk about Declan and when you both are reuniting,” I reassured her. I had no idea what the “store” was, considering I’d never been, and Mrs. Rothschild was my very first actual guest I’d been trusted and paired with.

“Thanks, Demi.” She patted an embroidered handkerchief against her forehead.

We walked side-by-side until we made our way to one of the narrow hallways that led to the elevators.

While Sage kept her eyes forward, I was looking at all the colored images of women plastered on the walls.

“Oh my god,” I breathed out. Pausing in front of a missing spot, I glanced around. The photos were hung in alphabetical order.

“Jamie…” The photo was missing completely. “No…no.” Guilt hit me as it was my fault for pushing her to talk about Alister and the sick things happening behind the facade of a beautiful resort.

“Mrs. Rothschild, will you give me a moment? I’m so sorry.”

She looked at me and then back to the images. “What is it?” She placed her hand over her heart and followed me as I sped up and walked to the other hallway. The hallway that held black-and-white images of girls.

Racing to the letter ‘J’, I slapped my hands across my mouth. “Jamie,” I whimpered when I saw her black-and-white image framed next to others.

It was my fault. She was so scared and followed the rules. I just had to push her to speak up and talk to me.

Sage dug her nails into my arm and tugged. “Demi, I really would like to go to the store.”

I looked at her and noticed she was wearing light green contacts, which sat slightly off her pupil. They weren’t her natural eyes.

“Sage…” I began, but quickly stopped myself. I’d done enough damage.

Swiping my badge against the white elevator doors, they opened silently. She stepped in first and then I entered.

Pressing floor number ten, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“About?” Sage asked with agitation.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

The doors opened, and we walked out into a strikingly bright and beautiful space. It was completely white with minimalistic furniture.

A woman with a neat blonde bun, green eyes, and nude lips greeted us. “Demi and Mrs. Rothschild, so nice of you to visit our stores. It’s shopping day!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

“Here’s a catalogue for you, and Demi, if you’d like one as well, to help provide your expert insight on Mrs. Rothschild’s purchase.”

I took the catalogue and walked over to the small bistro-style seating with Sage. There were sparkling pink drinks waiting on the table and peonies neatly displayed in a vase.

Sage was happily looking through the catalogue and circling items. I couldn’t see what was in it since she had it propped upward. Sitting down slowly, I winced in pain.

“Are you alright?” Mrs. Rothschild asked with genuine concern.

Pursing my lips, I gritted my teeth together. “Yes.” But I wasn’t. I slammed my knees together and wanted to cry from the brutal pain from the stitches Dr. Davenport put inside me.

“Definitely light only. I don’t want brown.” She smacked her lips together.

I brushed my hand against the white cover with small gold letters. “Bambino in Gabbia,” I whispered.

Opening the first page, I skimmed the words.

It’s an honor at La Gabbia to provide couples control and opportunities to grow their families. Alister Ivory, founder and owner of La Gabbia, knew that an all-inclusive resort meant just that. All-inclusive to provide both husband and wife with the worldly things that fulfill our hearts and feed our souls. Desire and pleasure fuel men to be better husbands and fathers; rest and rejuvenation fuel women to be the best wives and mothers. Mr. Ivory grew up in an unsettling environment and knew the value a healthy set of parents could provide a child. Therefore, we welcome you to the Life Center and hope you find the prized possession you’re looking for. If you’ve put a deposit down on a specific model, please let guest services know.

What is this? Baby furniture? I thought to myself.

“No, I just told Declan we should have put a deposit down on that light-skinned one I loved. These aren’t the right ones. I mean, a made-to-order brown one wouldn’t be so bad. I suppose the genetic component is even better than some of these light ones. Especially since the mother is in-house, and we know more.” Sage tapped her nails against the marble table.

“I don’t understand.” Flipping the page, I sank back into my chair. “Oh no.”

The items listed in the catalogue were babies.