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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

“My bride.” I was in the bathtub with my head tilted back and the bubbles covering my body.

“Hello, husband,” I whispered.

He came around to me and brushed his hand across my face. “You are glowing.” His eyebrow lifted. “Perhaps a soon-to-be mother’s glow?” He bit into his lower lip.

“You’ve come more inside corpses than you have in me, Alister. Perhaps we could leave the dead girls out of our bed?” I shot back. Something was changing inside me. I didn’t just feel powerful; I was powerful. A man’s life was in my hands, and I couldn’t help but love the way revenge tasted.

Alister looked at me carefully. “Bradley leaving seems to have put you in the best mood…”

I nodded. “It’s freeing knowing that parts of that period of my time are gone, Alister. I’m just looking forward to this next journey; one where I take more control over the way we do things at La Gabbia,” I said confidently. But I realized I had shown Alister Ivory that I was gaining too much confidence, and a confident woman was his trigger.

“How was your day?” I toned down the way I was speaking to him, but it was too late. He was taking off his belt, and I held my breath in hopes it was because he was undressing.

“Get out of the bath, Demi.”

My heart raced as my lips quivered. “I’m all soapy. May I go rinse off in the shower?” I hated the way my voice sounded in front of him.

“Get out of the bath, Demi,” he growled as he folded his leather belt. Forcing myself to stand and step out as soapsuds clung to my naked body, I began walking to the shower, but just as I turned my back to him, a loud crack that felt like heat blazed into my skin. I didn’t feel the pain because the shock of it all delayed any form of a reaction…

“Alister,” I cried. Powerless. That’s what I was and would always be.

“Mocking my sexual preferences? Mocking my desires?” He didn’t stop. I could smell the scent of leather meshing with my dampened skin.

“Please.” I cried out.

The taste of blood intertwined with my saliva as I began coughing. “Please,” I begged before he crouched behind me and splayed my legs apart, shoving himself inside me while grunting.

“No.” Everything blurred as I rested my head on the cold tile.

“Shall I kill you now, Demi, so I can have you as a corpse?” he hissed in my ear.

I closed my eyes and let myself drift away into the ocean. I saw him. I saw Bradley. I wondered what he was doing at this very moment.

And with that, I smiled and didn’t feel anything anymore.

* * *

The sun shimmered through the curtains, and I opened my eyes. “Marcie?” Her bright green eyes were staring down at me.

“Demi, you just can’t behave…” She shook her head with disappointment.

“Did you know we are all microchipped?” She pointed to her shoulder blade.

“I thought the tattoo was just their identification?” I brushed my hand against the raven tattooed on my shoulder blade that no one else had here except for Layla.

Marcie let out a small laugh as she wrung out a washcloth and dabbed it over the bruise circling my eye.

“Alister drugs every single girl who is brought here. That cute, pink peony welcome drink?” Marcie placed antibiotic cream on the cuts as I winced from the burning.

“All laced. Then they insert microchips before putting a tattoo over it.” She shrugged.

“Why are you telling me this?” I whispered.

“Because the woman you let go…Sage Rothschild? She’s microchipped, too. All the former caged girls are. She was one of Ian Ivory’s caged girls. That means the little boy, Myles, you sent with her will be found and dragged right back here as soon as they kill her. Now, my question is, where have you stashed Declan Rothschild?” Marcie sat back on the stool and squinted at me.

I took a moment and looked at her closely. “Marcie, you never did tell me how you came here to Ivory Island? Or why you never seem scared…”

She looked familiar.

Oddly familiar.

“Marcie…what’s your last name?” I questioned my former roommate.

She smiled at me as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Ivory.”

Standing, she moved her hair from her shoulder; only bloodline Ivorys get a pretty white bird.

“I’m Ian and Alister’s younger sister.” She stood proudly. “So that makes me your sister-in-law.”

My jaw dropped as I looked at her and pushed myself upward. “Marcie…” Shaking my head, I didn’t know how she knew everything about Sage, Myles, or Declan. She knew I was here hunting for answers and a way to end all of this.

“I was told to keep an extra close eye on you, and now I know why my brother asked. We can’t have you going around killing off our bloodline, silly little girl.” She booped my nose.

“Now, Alister has no idea what you’ve done with his product—the little boy that a very wealthy family is trying to purchase by the end of the week. We must remediate the situation because, if I tell him, then you’ll be slaughtered, and I’ll have to deal with Alister moping around over you dying.”

“Marcie, please no.” I clasped my hands together. “Kidnapping children and selling them to families? Trafficking young women to keep her as disposable toys for old, rich men? I mean, this cannot be what you think is…”

“Demi!” Marcie shouted at me. “Stop speaking and listen to me closely. You let Bradley leave his family and duty behind. Now, Alister has forced me to take over his duties while upholding mine, and that means managing inventory. If you don’t help me convince Sage Rothschild to bring Myles back, then it’s both of our lives on the line.” Her jaw ticked as she stood.

“I have a proposition. You can tell Sage to come visit Layla…talk to her unborn child or whatever you’d like, and then tell her if she doesn’t bring Myles back, the deal is done, and we kill Layla.”

“Declan went on a boating trip. I didn’t do anything to him.” I pulled the blanket off and stood, immediately grabbing the headboard as my body ached from what Alister had done to me last night.

“Marcie, I’ll handle it. Give me time.”

“You better, Demi.”