Chapter 9- The Loyalty Test
515 Words
It started with a whisper.
Late. In the back of the hall. Near the dressing room where the wallpaper curled at the edges like burned paper. Jules pulled Faith aside, her grip firm.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. Faith blinked.
“What happened?” “It’s Isabella. She was crying in the bathroom. Silas came in. Locked the door.” Faith’s stomach twisted. “Where is she now?”
Jules shook her head. “Gone. Fatima said she was ‘transferred’. But no one gets transferred.”
No one. They disappear.
Faith found Fatima behind the bar, counting bottles that didn’t need counting. Her hands moved fast. Her eyes didn’t meet Faith’s.
“You knew,” Faith said. Fatima didn;t stop moving.
“I warned you. You think you’re climbing. You’re being led.”
“where did they take her?”
“You don’t want to know that.”
“I do.”
Fatima finally looked up. “You did. Before he dressed you up and gave you champagne . Before you stopped asking questions.”
That one cut. And it was meant to.
That night, Rex called her.
He never texted. Never messaged. He only called when it mattered.
“Come up,” was all he said. She didn’t ask why. She already knew.
The penthouse was too warm, like it was designed to make people drowsy. Compliant. He poured her wine before she even sat down. “Isabella,” she said before he could speak. “Where is she?”
Rex didn’t flinch. He poured for himself, sat across from her.
“She was unstable,” he said. “Too fragile. That kind of weakness… it’s contagious. I can’t have that.” Faith’s pulse slammed into her throat.
“She needed help.” He sipped his drink. “Help isn’t profitable.”
The silence stretched. Rex leaned forward, folding his hands. “Let me ask you something, Faith. Do you think you’re here because I find you pretty?”
She didn’t answer. “You’re here because you understand the game. You don’t flinch. You adapt. That’s what I need.”
“And Isabella?”
“She failed.” Rex’s voice was calm. Almost bored. “She wasn’t built for this life. But you - you are. Don’t let your empathy ruin your evolution.” He let that sit. Then, softly: “Are you loyal to me?”
Faith didn’t speak. Her hands were tight around the stem of the wineglass. Not shaking. Just tight. Rex leaned back. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.”
When she left the penthouse, the sky was turning pale. The street beow was empty. She stood in the cold, hands stuffed into her pockets, trying to feel anything. Her phone buzzed. A message from Fatima: “She’s gone. Don’t ask where.”
Faith stared at the screen. Then locked it. Slipped it away. She didn’t cry. She scream. She just walked away.
*****
In the mirror later, her reflection looked back like it was waiting. For confession. Or punishment. Or worse - approval.
- Writer
