Page 7 of Sinful Palace

“That’s horrible. Are you okay?” The woman stepped up to the vanity next to me, still eyeing my dirty face as she dropped a bag on the tiles. Now that she was closer, I detected a faint Eastern European accent in her voice.

I stared at myself in the mirror again, biting my bottom lip. Am I okay? Let’s see…

I was still a prisoner to the Thornes, and I’d just seen a man get shot to death and dumped in the bay. On top of that, my mother and Jamie Torrance were still in hot water over Rutherford’s death, mostly because of me, and Mom had practically exiled me from the family as a result.

Given all that, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be okay again. I couldn’t tell anyone, though. Couldn’t share my pain and misery with a single soul in this world.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” I murmured, lowering my face so I could splash some water and soap on my skin. When I lifted my head back up to pat my face dry, I glanced over at the dark-haired woman again. She was leaning close to the mirror and applying dark makeup to her eyelids.

I suppressed a horrified gasp as I noticed a terrible purple scar running around her throat along with a series of red and purple scars on her bare abdomen and arms.

She noticed me looking and arched an eyebrow. “Do you want to borrow some makeup?”

I abruptly turned my head away, pretending that I hadn’t noticed the marks on her skin. It made me feel as if I’d intruded on a private moment. “No thanks,” I murmured, cheeks turning hot with shame.

She tossed a small purple container over to me anyway. “Try this,” she said. “It’ll help with the puffiness.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I shot her a small smile and opened the container to scoop out a bit of the sweet-smelling cream within. It was cool and refreshing on my skin, and my eyes looked better almost right away.

“See? It’s a miracle-worker,” the woman said, smiling brightly at me.

“Yeah, it’s great.” I handed the container back to her, trying my hardest not to look at her scars. “Thanks again.”

“No problem,” she replied, staring ahead at the mirror as she clinched a black choker around her neck. A silver pendant with the letter ‘M’ engraved on it dangled from the center. “I hope your night gets better.”

I smiled again and nodded politely before leaving the bathroom. After I headed back down the hall, I went over to the glass doors Logan mentioned earlier. They opened automatically with a swish, and I found myself in a large cafeteria decorated in a gorgeous Art Deco style.

I wasn’t particularly hungry, but I figured I may as well grab a bit of food anyway. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do right now.

Several tables were dotted around the room, and a few women shot surprised looks at me when I stepped past them toward the serving counters. A couple of them even leaned over to their friends and murmured as they peeked in my direction. Apart from that, no one spoke to me or bothered me in any way.

I grabbed a plate and scanned the food options, eventually deciding on sushi. As I reached for a California roll, a familiar voice piped up behind me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I turned to see the dark-haired woman from the bathroom. “Sorry, what?” I said, brows drawing together.

She smiled and took a step closer. “I was in here earlier and I saw one of the girls put every single piece of sushi on her plate,” she went on, wrinkling her nose at the silver tray. “Then she changed her mind and put it all back. Normally I wouldn’t care if someone else touched a bit of food for a few seconds, but that girl had just finished with one of her regulars, and everyone knows he enjoys a few fingers up the ass. I know she always washes her hands after, but still…”

“Oh. Yikes.” I grimaced and pulled my hand away from the sushi.

“Try the crab puffs instead,” the woman said, nodding toward a different tray. “They’re to die for.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.”

“Do you want me to show you a quiet place to sit?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. “I’m guessing you’d prefer that over the communal tables after the night you’ve had.”

I smiled weakly and nodded. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Sure. I’m Myla, by the way.”

“I’m Willow.”

When my new companion had filled her plate with crab puffs and salad, she led me out of the cafeteria and over to the far side of the seventeenth floor. Instead of extending all the way to the main wall on that side, it ended several yards before it with a carved stone balcony overlooking the floor below.

“That’s one of the club’s party rooms,” Myla explained, motioning downward. “We’re high enough that the sound doesn’t really travel up here, but we can see everything. I don’t know why, but I find it kind of relaxing to sit here and watch.”

Butterflies filled my stomach as I glanced over the gilded balustrade. The floor beneath us was filled with writhing bodies and dim red lights. It reminded me of the party room at the Order Hall, only it was darker and absolutely everyone was stark naked, engaging in all sorts of sexual acts.

Myla was right. Even though it was directly below us, the sounds of music and pleasure barely reached the balcony at all. It was surreal.

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