Page 57 of Slay King

Once I was dressed, I took several breaths and tried to push the nausea back while I focused on what I was going to do next. I had no options, except to face the man and find out what he wanted. My eyes swung back to the shower, and I shivered, thinking about the shampoo and conditioner. Hill was dead. King had helped kill him. This wasn’t him. This was something else.

The Insantos? Was that it? They’d found a way into the family through Oriel and taken me. As tiny as it was, there was a small thread of hope. If it was the Insantos, then King would know how to find me. Wouldn’t he? Didn’t they have that kind of power?

“Please, please, please,” I whispered before saying a prayer.

The next wave of sickness I couldn’t hold back, and I ran to the toilet to throw up very little. Mostly the water I had just drunk. After a few more dry-heaves, I wiped my mouth and stood back up. Going back to the sink, I rinsed my mouth out and slowly sipped some more water.

Running my fingers through my curls to attempt to control the mess it was, I took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and calmed myself the best I could. I had to be strong. Get through this. Be smart. Protect the baby inside of me.

When I walked back into the bedroom, the man was sitting on the high-back velvet chair that sat in the corner. He looked up from the phone in his hand, and a pleased smile flashed on his face, as if I had done something right. I hadn’t showered to please him or worn these clothes to make him happy.

“I hope you feel refreshed. Let’s go on down to the dining room. The vomiting should cease now. Side effect of the chloroform.”

At least he didn’t think it was due to morning sickness. Leaving with him sounded like a bad idea, but I couldn’t stay in this room forever. Getting out was the best chance I had at an escape. I needed to see what I was up against. So, I nodded and waited for him to walk to the door before I followed.

I did my best to take in every detail. Anything that could help me get away. The hallway was wide, and there were other doors, but they were closed. The wallpaper out here was as over the top as the bedroom was. Dragons, monsters, in an Asian tapestry pattern that had gold all throughout with reds and blues on a black background. The staircase wasn’t wide and impressive, but I also felt as if I was being taken down a back set of stairs.

After heading down another hallway with yet more horrible wallpaper, we reached a large opening with a gothic-looking chandelier and red walls. In the room, there was the largest sofa I’d ever seen in a massive circular shape. It was a solid black velvet. The man didn’t slow until we reached two wide red doors that blended in with the walls. He opened them both, then moved back for me to enter.

Stepping inside cautiously, I took in the long dining room table, double the size of Maeme’s. There was food on fancy gold serving pieces all down the center of it. A tiered tray sat in the middle with fancy pastries and fresh fruit and warming trays with small fires underneath the food. The man at the end of the table stood up then, and I saw the resemblance to the one who had brought me here. He was a slightly older version, except he wore a dress shirt and slacks, unlike the other man who was in jeans and a polo-style shirt.

“Mrs. Millroe,” he said in greeting.

Although he was smiling as if I were an invited guest, I could see the glint of evil in his eyes. There was a threat of unhinged damage in that sculpted face. I wanted to correct him. Hearing Hill’s surname attached to me made me cringe inwardly, but I didn’t want to tell him my name. I was sure he knew it, but I chose to remain silent.

“This way,” the man behind me said, waving a hand toward the chairs closer to the other man.

I continued to follow him as I scanned the rest of the room, but we were alone. He stopped and pulled out a chair to the right of the other man.

“I know you have questions,” he began as I sat down. “My name is Falcon Socorro, and I have no intentions of hurting you. I need information from you, Mrs. Millroe.” He paused, then held his hand up to motion for someone.

I heard a door open and turned to see two men walking in, wearing matching black attire, carrying trays.

“Do you prefer coffee or tea?” he asked.

I glanced over at him, not sure if he would remain nice if I refused everything here. If I went along with this, I could get information. Keeping myself from being beaten or killed was my goal at the moment.

“Do you have juice?” I asked.

He nodded. “What is your preference?”

“Orange,” I replied.

One of the men stepped forward with a pitcher and filled the empty glass by the plate in front of me.

I started to thank him, but stopped myself. I wasn’t going to speak unless I had to. Attention to detail. That was what I needed to do. That, and get as much information out of this Falcon Socorro as possible.

When I shifted my gaze back to him, he picked up his cup of coffee, flashing a gaudy diamond ring on his hand.

“Please help yourself to whatever you would like to eat. I’ve already had my meal, but I want to be sure you are full and satisfied before we begin.”

I licked my lips and tried to calm my nerves before I spoke. “I would prefer we talk now. Why am I here? What do you want from me?”

He set his cup back down, and the flash of displeasure in his expression wasn’t missed. He didn’t like his directions to be ignored. He was in charge and gave the orders. If this was the Insantos gang, then I was willing to bet this was their leader.

“Your husband,” he began, “stole from me.”

I already knew this. He’d stolen from a lot of people.

---