Silence and Shadows

Chapter 3

The man choked, unable to get the words out, his throat bobbling. "F-Freddy... Freddy is here."

I carefully went around him, allowing the silence to grow until it was nearly intolerable. "Freddy, please explain to me why you would risk your life to spy for the Riaceti."

His breathing was laboured as he shifted in his seat and struggled against the ropes. "They made a financial offer. My mum is ill. I had no other option.

I stopped in front of him, leaning in so that my face was close to his, letting him see the darkness in my eyes. “No, Freddy. You did have a choice. And you chose to betray me.”

He opened his lips to make another feeble excuse, but I interrupted him by slamming my fist into his jaw, which was strong enough to knock him sideways in the chair. His face contorted in agony as he moaned and spat blood onto the ground. Now that the realisation was sinking in, I could see the panic rising in his eyes.

"Freddy, this is what's going to happen," I remarked in a cool, collected tone. "You'll let me know whatever the Riaceti is aware of regarding my procedure. Each and every name, place, and detail. And if I believe you to be lying, God bless you. I watched him tremble under the pressure of my stare as I left the words hanging.

He nodded and began to speak, his voice hardly more than a whisper, taking a trembling breath. He revealed everything he knew over the course of the following thirty minutes, his voice shaking as he rattled out names and addresses, each syllable burying him further in his tomb. He was a complete mess by the time he was done, hardly able to raise his head.

I took a step back, staring down at him with a mix of revulsion and sympathy. Freddy, you made a mistake. I now have to make sure you don't commit the same error twice.

His final words faded into the shadowy walls surrounding us, and the room was silent. His cries were still echoing in my ears when I departed, but my thoughts had already turned back to tomorrow. To Ricci, and to the auction.

As I climbed back up the stairs, the resolve settled deeper within me. Ricci would pay for what he’d done, and I would be there to watch his empire crumble.

My pulse quickened, each beat echoing like the ticking of a clock winding down to some inevitable end. Cold, cracked stone walls loomed around me, pressing in with a dreadful finality, and the silence seemed to echo all the louder for it. I was going to be sold. I didn’t need the low, murmured conversations outside the door or the sidelong looks of the guards to know it; I could feel it sinking into me, filling every corner of my mind with panic and resignation.

It was Rose who broke the silence. She opened the door and stood there for a moment, clipboard in hand, scanning me with that same calculated indifference she wore like armor. She stepped inside, heels clicking on the stone floor, the noise stark in the quiet as she advanced.

“Get up,” she said, each word clipped. Her voice lacked any sympathy, only impatience.

I hesitated, feeling the familiar urge to resist even if I knew how pointless it was. Rose narrowed her eyes, as if daring me to defy her. Her lips curled slightly, a cruel glint in her eye.

“Need a reminder of what happens to girls who make things difficult?” Her words were a reminder that beneath her polished, controlled demeanor was someone who enjoyed holding power over others.

I forced myself to rise, my legs like lead. I had no choice but to follow her down the dimly lit halls, each step echoing. The cold of the stone floors seeped into my bare feet, grounding me, though I wished it could anchor me to something solid, something safe.

Eventually, she led me into a small, sterile room. The gleam of the metal table and the tray of supplies reminded me of a doctor’s office, but there was no comfort in that comparison. The dread sank deeper as she closed the door behind us.

“Lie down,” she ordered. The coldness in her voice was a reminder that any attempt at defiance was futile.

I lay on the table, my body stiff, my eyes focused on a crack in the ceiling. I braced myself as she prepared the wax, moving with a practiced efficiency that only made me feel even less human, another item to polish and perfect. Each strip she applied and ripped away left my skin stinging, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, refusing to make a sound. I’d learned that long ago—showing pain would only encourage her.

“Almost done,” she muttered, more to herself than to me. When she finally finished, she discarded the last strip with a satisfied smirk, eyeing me like a jeweler assessing their latest acquisition.

She tossed a small pile of clothes toward me, the dark dress landing in a heap in my lap. The material was soft but thin, the dress low-cut and hugging tight as I pulled it on, like it had been made for someone else. A pair of heels was the final touch—black, painfully high, forcing me onto my toes the moment I tried to stand.

Rose watched with a barely concealed smirk as I struggled to steady myself. “Try not to trip on your way out,” she sneered, the contempt laced into her voice all too familiar.

Her grip on my arm was like a steel vise as she led me out of the room, dragging me back up to a part of the estate I’d only glimpsed from afar. The air was warmer here, a thrum of voices and music vibrating through the walls as we approached. The sound of mingling voices grew louder, punctuated by laughter—harsh, amused, and utterly indifferent.

The room we entered was vast, draped in dark woods and gilded chandeliers casting an unsettling warmth over the crowd below. Men filled the space, milling about in expensive suits, every one of them exuding a silent confidence that bordered on arrogance. Some leaned casually against the walls, sipping drinks, their expressions impassive but their eyes flickering with interest as they glanced toward the lineup of girls.

I felt their eyes on me immediately, their stares hot and unwelcome, crawling over my skin with a hunger that made me feel like prey. Their suits were tailored perfectly, every detail immaculate, yet the faint bulge of guns tucked behind their waistbands betrayed their true nature. Power clung to them like a second skin, an intimidating aura that didn’t require words. To them, I was nothing more than merchandise, a luxury they could bid on.

My gaze drifted over to the other girls, all of us lined up like offerings, each one caught in her own storm of silent terror. The low murmur of conversation mingled with the clink of glasses, the atmosphere thick with anticipation as Don Ricci himself made his entrance, the head of this monstrous ring, presiding over his empire of flesh.

Then there was a shift in the room, a stillness that fell over the crowd like a cold wind, making even the laughter fall silent. Eyes darted toward the door, and the faint whispers that followed carried a strange tension.

He had arrived.