Page 98 of Ruthless Legacy

Chapter43

Thea

It’s the last week of indoctrination. I’m happy it’s ending, and nervous about what comes next. Hopefully, we’ll get some insight into that this week.

Out of the ten girls that started in this group with me, there are only six of us left. I don’t know how many remain in the other groups, because they’ve continued to keep us separated.

I knock on the door of the home, which is hosting our lessons this week. Three more from my group join me before the maid opens the door to let us inside. I would probably do the same thing instead of running back and forth. She ushers us into the living room and I take the accent chair, letting the other girls sit together. They’re friends, after all, and I like my space.

Our host for the evening introduces himself as Patrick Cabot. He’s in his sixties and has that same hard gleam in his eyes I’ve seen in every other host. You’d think at least one of them would be happy to do this. Maybe they are and it’s just us women that’s irritating them.

“This is your last week of indoctrination. There will be a final exam. At the end, we’ll compile your marks and your overall score will determine whether or not you advance to the next stage in the selection process.” He presses his lips together. “I can tell you, this week is where we see the largest drop off of selectees.”

Because of a test? I guess I’m cramming this week. Goodbye gym time.

Cabot continues. “There is a lot to recap. I will pair each of you with a tutor.” Just as he says that, the door opens and five men walk in. One is the guy babysitting us at the compound, two are previous hosts, and this is my first time seeing the other two. Cabot rattles off names, pairing us off. My tutor’s James Hourihan.

“Hello Theona. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I reserve judgement on if meeting him is pleasurable or not until I see how much of an asshole he’s gonna be. Let’s start with my name. “I go by Thea.”

“Thea, yes. Of course.”

I could let us sit in awkward silence, but I’m all about using my resources. The tutor’s job is to help me pass this exam. “What can I expect for the final exam?”

“A recap of all the things you’ve learned and seen during indoctrination.”

“Do you mean the rules and the names of committee members we met on tour? That sort of thing?”

“Precisely. There will also be a few things Patrick will cover this week. I’ll be here to help guide you through it.”

Patrick clears his throat. “Now that we’ve all had time to get acquainted, let’s get started.”

The door opens again. A group of women walk in, dragging suitcases and garment racks behind them.

“Appearance. It’s the first impression we give to the world. Our reputation is what we have. There is a way you must present yourself inside chambers. Your final lessons will focus on how to dress, how to speak, and how to conduct yourself during league meetings and events, and when conducting league business. We will focus on greetings and dismissal, and the grievance process.”

Sounds like a secret handshake. I can’t wait to learn it. Not.

“We’ll start with appearance. Your measurements will be taken and filed by our approved stylists who have copies of your league application. This information will be used to help establish your personal brand for business meetings, formal events, informal events and casual wear.”

The ladies step to the front of the room and introduce themselves. They explain we’ll need to be in our bra and panties for proper measurements. The men leave, and one by one we’re called to the front of the room, to be measured.

“Hair color, nose ring, tattoo.” The woman working on me says, while her assistant jots down notes. She tilts my chin, staring into my eyes. “Contacts?”

“Natural.”

“Hmm. Any other piercings or tattoos?”

I’m standing in my bra and panties. So there’s only two places they could be. “Not yet.”

“Undisclosed allergies?”

“None.”

She walks to the clothing rack and starts pulling things off, making me put on different styles of blouses, pants, skirts, and dresses. Similar styles in different colors. Completely different styles. The entire time, she makes little comments and her assistant takes notes.

I slip shoes on and off my feet. They take my picture in each outfit. The final item is coming up with the concept for my signature scent. I don’t like any of the swatches they present to me. Finally, it’s over and she says, “You can get dressed now.”

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