RUTHLESS POSSESSION

CHAPTER THREE

Morning came with the sound of a bell.

Enzra was already awake.

She hadn't slept throughout the night.

She had spent hours sitting against the wall of the cell, staring through the iron bars into the dark corridor.

Her mind wouldn't stop.

Your uncle brought you here.

He said you would know where to find it.

Find what?

What had her uncle done?

What had he hidden?

And why did Genesis believe she knew anything about it?

Enzra rubbed her tired eyes.

She didn't know the answer.

But she was going to find out.

The bell rang again.

Mara immediately sat up.

"Get ready."

Enzra looked at her.

"For what?"

"Work."

The cell doors began opening.

One after another.

Metal scraped against metal as guards moved through the corridor.

"Everyone outside!"

Mara stood.

Enzra followed.

The slaves were led out of the underground quarters in groups.

Nobody talked.

Nobody complained.

They walked through a narrow passage until they reached a large open area behind the mansion.

Enzra stopped when she saw what was waiting for them.

Large piles of granite covered one side of the yard.

Bags of cement were stacked on the other.

The guards separated the slaves.

"Women to the cement."

The women moved toward the bags.

"Men to the granite."

The men walked toward the stones.

Enzra started following Mara.

"Not you."

She stopped.

A guard pointed toward the men.

"Over there."

Enzra stared at him.

"I'm a woman."

The guard didn't even blink.

"I know."

"Then why am I going there?"

"Because you're carrying granite."

Enzra looked toward the men.

Some were already lifting the heavy pieces.

Then she looked back at the guard.

"Why?"

"Because that's your assignment."

"I can carry cement."

"I didn't ask what you could carry."

His voice became colder.

"Move."

Enzra didn't move immediately.

She looked around.

Nobody seemed surprised.

Not even Mara.

Mara gave her a small shake of her head.

Don't argue.

Enzra sighed.

Fine.

She walked toward the granite.

A large piece sat on the ground in front of her.

She bent down and tried lifting it.

Her arms immediately strained.

She managed to raise it.

Barely.

"Keep moving!" a guard shouted.

Enzra clenched her jaw and started walking.

The granite was heavy against her arms.

She carried it across the yard and dropped it where the others were placing theirs.

"Again."

She turned.

"What?"

The guard pointed toward the pile.

"Again."

Enzra looked at the granite.

Then at him.

"You don't even give us a break?"

"No."

"Not even for water?"

"When you're told to drink."

She stared at him.

He stared back.

Enzra picked up another piece.

The work continued.

Carry.

Drop.

Return.

Carry again.

There was no conversation.

No rest.

No choice.

The only sounds were footsteps, heavy breathing, granite hitting the ground and guards shouting orders.

After some time, Enzra noticed something.

Nobody stopped.

Not even when they were exhausted.

Not even when someone struggled to lift a load.

She looked at Mara across the yard.

Mara was carrying a bag of cement.

Their eyes met for a second.

Mara quickly looked away.

Enzra continued working.

Her arms were beginning to ache.

Her palms were sore.

But she refused to complain.

She had learned one thing already.

Complaining changed nothing here.

A man a few steps away suddenly dropped his granite.

It hit the ground.

The guard nearest to him turned immediately.

"Pick it up."

The man stood there breathing heavily.

"I need a minute."

The guard walked toward him.

"You heard me."

"I just need a minute."

The guard raised his weapon.

The man's face changed.

Enzra stopped moving.

"Pick it up."

The man didn't.

A gunshot cracked through the yard.

Enzra flinched.

The man dropped to the ground, clutching his leg.

Everything went silent for half a second.

Then the guard looked at everyone else.

"Keep working."

Nobody moved toward the injured man.

Nobody even looked at him for long.

They simply returned to their work.

Enzra stared.

Her heart was pounding.

The guard pointed toward the granite.

"You too."

Enzra looked at him.

He pointed again.

"Work."

She slowly bent down.

She lifted another piece.

Her hands were shaking.

Not from fear.

From anger.

She carried it across the yard.

She dropped it.

Then returned for another.

The injured man was eventually dragged away by two guards.

No explanation was given.

No one asked where they were taking him.

The work continued as if nothing had happened.

Hours passed.

The sun climbed higher.

Enzra's clothes became damp with sweat.

Her arms felt heavy.

Her body wanted to stop.

But she remembered the gunshot.

She kept moving.

Finally, a bell rang.

Every slave stopped.

One of the guards shouted,

"That's enough."

Enzra lowered her arms.

For the first time since morning, she allowed herself to breathe properly.

The slaves were gathered together.

The guards counted them.

Then they began directing everyone back toward the underground quarters.

Enzra moved with them.

"Enzra."

She stopped.

A guard stood behind her.

"You stay."

She turned.

"What?"

"You're not going back yet."

"Why?"

"You have another job."

Enzra looked at the others disappearing through the doorway.

Mara was among them.

She turned around when she realized Enzra wasn't following.

Their eyes met.

Enzra gave her a small nod.

Mara hesitated before disappearing from sight.

Enzra looked back at the guard.

"What job?"

"Cleaning."

"Cleaning what?"

"The workers' hall."

Enzra frowned.

"The hall where we eat?"

"Yes."

"Everyone else gets to rest?"

The guard's expression remained blank.

"You're not everyone else."

Enzra's eyes narrowed.

"Didn't Damon say nobody gets special treatment?"

The guard stared at her.

Then he said,

"You're beginning to ask too many questions."

He turned and walked away.

Enzra followed.

She didn't like the feeling in her stomach.

It was beginning to seem like the moment she opened her mouth, someone found another task for her.

But she followed anyway.

They reached a large hall underground.

It was much bigger than she expected.

Long wooden tables stretched across the room.

Benches stood on either side.

This was where the slaves ate their meals.

After a full morning of hard labor, the place looked terrible.

Dirty plates covered the tables.

Empty bowls were scattered everywhere.

There were food stains on the floor.

Dust had been carried in from outside.

Enzra stared.

"All this?"

The guard pointed inside.

"Everything."

Then he walked away.

Enzra watched him leave.

"Of course."

She picked up a bucket.

Then another.

She filled one with water and began cleaning.

She wiped the tables first.

Then gathered the plates.

Then swept the floor.

The work was repetitive.

Tiring.

And irritating.

But at least nobody was shouting at her.

For the first time that morning, she was alone.

She kept thinking about Genesis.

About what he had said.

About the secret.

She knew her uncle.

Or at least she thought she did.

But she couldn't imagine what he could possibly have stolen from a man like Genesis Black.

And why would he tell Genesis that she knew where it was?

Enzra stopped wiping a table.

"I don't know anything."

The words sounded strange in the empty hall.

She continued cleaning.

Eventually, most of the tables were done.

She moved toward the far end of the room.

That's when she heard it.

Clang.

Enzra stopped.

She listened.

Nothing.

She waited.

Clang!

This time it was louder.

She looked toward the wall.

Another sound followed.

A heavy impact.

Then several voices.

Enzra slowly lowered the cloth.

What was that?

She listened again.

Metal striking metal.

Then shouting.

Not ordinary shouting.

It sounded like people giving commands.

Then another loud clash.

Enzra's curiosity immediately took over.

She looked toward the door.

Nobody was there.

She should probably finish cleaning.

Instead, she picked up the bucket and placed it beside the wall.

Then she followed the sound.

A narrow corridor stretched behind the hall.

She had never noticed it before.

The farther she walked, the louder the noise became.

Clang!

Thud!

"Again!"

Another impact.

Enzra stopped at the end of the corridor.

A massive iron door stood in front of her.

She looked at it.

There was a large sign attached to the center.

She stepped closer.

COMBAT TRAINING

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY

Enzra stared.

Combat training?

She heard another clash from behind the door.

Then several voices shouted at once.

She looked around.

Still nobody.

Her hand moved toward the handle.

She stopped.

This was obviously somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

The sign made that very clear.

But Enzra had never been particularly good at staying where people told her to stay.

She slowly turned the handle.

The door opened.

The sound that came out nearly made her step back.

Enzra's eyes widened.

The space beyond the door was enormous.

It looked nothing like the rest of the underground area.

It was a massive training facility.

People were everywhere.

Hundreds of them.

Maybe more.

Men and women dressed in dark training clothes filled the huge room.

Some were sparring.

Some were running drills.

Others were lifting weights or practicing combat movements under the watch of instructors.

There were different sections throughout the enormous hall.

A group practiced hand-to-hand combat.

Another group trained with wooden weapons.

Others moved through an obstacle course.

At the far end, several fighters were being instructed by a man shouting commands.

"Faster!"

The fighters moved immediately.

"Again!"

They repeated the drill.

Enzra remained near the doorway.

She had never seen so many trained fighters gathered in one place.

This wasn't just a training room.

It was an entire operation.

Genesis Black had an army.

And this was where he trained them.

Enzra slowly stepped inside.

Nobody seemed to notice her.

Her eyes moved around the room.

She suddenly understood why the mansion was so heavily guarded.

Why the people in the slave quarters were afraid.

Why everyone followed orders without question.

Genesis wasn't simply surrounded by a few armed men.

He had hundreds of them.

Maybe thousands across his entire organization.

And she had just walked into the place where some of them were trained.

She took another step.

A fighter slammed another onto a padded mat.

An instructor immediately shouted,

"Stand up."

The fighter got up.

"Again."

They continued.

Enzra watched silently.

There was something strange about the entire place.

Everyone here seemed disciplined.

Controlled.

Focused.

Nobody laughed.

Nobody wasted time.

Nobody seemed relaxed.

It was almost as though every person inside had been taught that one mistake could cost them everything.

Enzra looked toward the door.

She should leave.

Now.

She turned.

Then stopped.

A voice came from behind her.

"Didn't you see the writing on the door?"

Enzra froze.

She knew that voice.

There was no mistaking it.

That calm, cold voice.

The voice that had ordered her into a cell.

The voice that had questioned her about her uncle.

The voice that had demanded she call him Master.

The most annoying voice she had ever heard.

Enzra's lips pressed together.

She didn't turn around.

She simply scoffed.

Then she said,

"Genesis."