Page 69 of Tower

“Let’s go.” The man with his large hands reached back and pulled her forward again.

Who was that? Did her mother have girls down there?

Azalea stumbled but quickly found her footing and climbed the stairwell. Bright beams of light blinded her as she stepped onto the landing.

Shielding her eyes with her cupped hand, she blinked several times before she adjusted to the lighting.

“Azalea.” Her mother’s cold voice drew her attention. “Put your hand down. You look like a fool.” Her hand was smacked away.

Blinking away the last of the fog, Azalea focused on her mother. The epitome of perfection, as always. Not a single hair out of place, her makeup applied carefully, and her back straight as a damn broomstick. How is it Azalea hadn’t noticed until then how much her mother resembled the witches depicted in all the fairy tales she’d been told growing up?

“You showered. Good. We will have to do something with your hair, though. It needs to be blown dry and curled, I think. Yes, big wavy curls. And you need a bit of mascara to highlight those damn eyes of yours, and a touch of blush to showcase your cheekbones.”

Azalea jerked her face away when her mother pinched her cheeks.

“Why? And, where are we?” Azalea surveyed the room. Not unlike her mother’s office at home, the room was littered with self-portraits.

“We’re in my home,” her mother said with a tinge of relief, as though a weight were being lifted from her.

“But—”

“Oh, you know nothing, you stupid child,” Bellatrix snapped. “I am going to be so relieved when this is finished.”

“When what is finished? You’re talking in riddles!” Azalea had never raised her voice to her mother, until that moment. Enough already. She couldn’t take any more. Her body ached, her head throbbed, and she had no idea where the hell she was.

Bellatrix’s eyes widened at Azalea’s outburst. Taking steady steps toward her, she kept her hard gaze on Azalea.

Azalea’s head snapped from the impact of her mother’s hand landing fiercely against her cheek.

“You will mind your tongue,” Bellatrix seethed. Taking a step back, she smoothed her hands over her flat stomach, taking a deep breath.

Azalea’s cheek pulsated with pain, but she ignored it. Not wanting to give satisfaction to her mother—her obviously deranged mother.

“What happened to you?” Azalea asked, trying to grasp onto something—anything that would explain her mother’s sudden turn in behavior toward her. “Are you sick?”

Bellatrix laughed, a deep, sinister laugh Azalea could not recall hearing before.

The door to the room opened, and two men walked in, Santos hung limply between them. He raised his head, one eye swollen shut. His bottom lip was puffy and bleeding. Azalea doubted he’d be able to speak if he wanted to.

“Mother,” Azalea spoke softly. “I don’t understand. Why—” She stopped and took a shaky breath. “Why are we here? What’s happening?”

“Azalea, it’s time for you to take a husband,” her mother said with a sneer.

“Take a husband?” What the hell was happening? Her mother had always been too protective. Why would she even consider having her marrying anyone?

“Yes. Well, I’m not sure the man who buys you will actually make you his wife, or treat you with any sort of husbandly affection, but that doesn’t really matter.”

Azalea’s breath caught in her throat.

“Your little stunt the past few weeks almost ruined the whole thing, but luckily I came home in time to fix it.” Bellatrix walked around her, appraising her with her stare. “Did Peter, the meddling ass, did he take your virginity?” she asked, coming toe-to-toe with Azalea.

“I—” There was no good way to answer that question. If she lied, her mother would know, and if she told the truth, her mother would be angry. “I need you to slow down. What’s going on? What do you mean ‘buy me’?”

Bellatrix let out a huff of air. “He did. Those damn Titon men. Just take whatever they want. Though I doubt you gave him much trouble.” She raised a dark eyebrow at Azalea. “That’s okay. As long as that pussy of yours is good and tight, you’ll still fetch a good price.”

She walked away from Azalea, circling around the desk and opening a drawer.

“You’re going to sell me?” Azalea said the words, but her brain still would not comprehend them.

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