Page 13 of Jenna's Protector

“A modeling agency approached me, promising fame, magazinecovers, and money. So much money. They offered me housing, training, and a way to finish school. It was the answer to all my problems. At first, it was everything they said it would be—glamorous and exciting. But then things changed.”

Carter hangs on my every word, his eyes filled with empathy and understanding. Max nudges my leg gently, giving a little whine. I reach down, absently petting him, drawing comfort from him.

“The glamour slowly twisted into manipulation—then exploitation. I had no idea what I was doing, or what was happening to me. It was insidious.”

“How did they do that?”

“The grooming process was gradual but relentless. They started by building us up, telling us how beautiful we were and how we had the potential to be stars. They taught us how to walk, talk, and behave in a way that would make us irresistible to men. They called it 'charm school,' but it was really a way to break us down and mold us into their perfect playthings. We trained to be models and hostesses for private events where wealthy men would gather. It was all about making the men feel special. We were encouraged to flirt.”

“Flirt?”

“Yes. We got tips if we flirted well and were punished if it seemed as if we were unwilling to make the guests feel desired. I was young and naive, and the attention initially felt like validation.”

“Punished? What did they do?”

“Along with the grooming came threats. We were told things would happen if we didn’t behave or comply. They reminded us how easily we could be replaced. They threatened to send us back to the lives we had run away from, back to the poverty and abuse.”

“That’s horrible.” Carter’s brows pinch together.

“The threats were so ingrained that we began to believe them. We became terrified of making a mistake, of stepping out of line. The constant fear created a sense of dependence and obedience that was hard to shake.”

“What were the punishments?”

“They withheld food, gave chores… The physical abuse was subtle at first but escalated quickly. A late arrival to class meant a sharp slap across the face. A misstep during a walkthrough resulted in being locked in a dark closet for hours. The worst was when one of the girls broke down crying during a fitting session; she was dragged out of the room and came back with bruises all over her body.”

“They physically abused you?” He starts to say something more, but thinks better of it. His lips press into a stern line.

“The staff justified these actions by saying it was all part of our 'training' to become perfect models. They claimed it built character and discipline, but it only instilled fear and compliance. We learned to hide our pain and do whatever it took to avoid their wrath.”

“They took advantage of you.”

“One of the girls, Sophia—she and I became close friends there—anyway, she was always a bit of a rebel; constantly getting into trouble. She tried to slip out once. Sophia was… promiscuous. Unlike me, she wasn’t a virgin. She told me she wanted toget some.None of the guards would touch her. Or the men at the fancy parties. Long story short, she didn’t make it to the nearest town before the guards caught her. When they brought her back, we were all forced to watch her punishment.”

“They made you watch?”

“To make a point. They stripped her and whipped her in front of us. Her screams echoed through the facility, a chilling reminder of what awaited anyone who dared to defy them. Afterward, she was locked in solitary confinement for days, with only bread and water to survive on.”

“At any time, did you think about escape?”

“Never. We were there to learn, and they had rules we had to follow. It was just the way things were. I knew any attempt to break the rules would result in punishment. That fear kept us in line, but not once did I feel like I was a captive. I was grateful for what they were doing for me. Their emotional control was that strong.”

“You did say insidious.”

“It was nothing compared to the mental manipulation. The staff would praise us one moment and degrade us the next. They told us we were special, chosen for greatness. They played mind games,isolating us from each other and making us compete for their approval. They had us believing we would be nothing without them. The constant gaslighting and brainwashing made it impossible to think clearly. And then…” I hesitate with this last part.

“And then, what?”

“They hooked us on drugs. Cocaine mostly; said it was to help us stay slim. There was more.”

Much more.

“Is there a name? An address?”

“Elite Essence is what they called themselves. I never knew the address.”

“Were you ever told you could leave?”

“And go where?” I shrug. “They took me from the street. I wasn’t abducted like the girls in your case, but my father had no idea what happened to me. I could go back to him or back to living on the streets. Despite the hardships at the estate, it was better than returning to an abusive home. Never was there any reason to think things weren’t on the up and up. I was excited by all the things they told me. I went willingly. We all did.”

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