Page 8 of Redemption

“Hey!” She jumped up, rushing toward the doorway to catch the man.

“Victoria. Hush,” whispered worried voices behind her.

The hell with that.None of them had been touched yet, no one had been hurt, but they still needed their strength.

“Excuse me!” she called down the hall.

Nothing.Well, damn.“Let’s divide up the—”

She saw eyes go wide before she heard the grunt of the meanest guard. He seemed not the least bit concerned.

“What?” he barked.

She straightened her spine and pushed her shoulders back. “That’s not enough food. Nowhere near enough.”

He looked over her shoulder and shook his head. “Eat.”

“We would if there was enough. We need more food.”

He walked farther into the room, his gaze crawling over the young ladies. “You have needs?”

Dread curled in her stomach. They were supposedly Mikhailov property. No guard had dared to touch them, the younger guards admitted, because Ivan Mikhailov was fanatical about his possessions. He hadn’t returned yet, and Victoria gathered they were still in the start-up stage of this endeavor. What started as only a few girls days ago had almost doubled.

“You get more food.” He grabbed a young girl by her hair, yanking her down onto her knees. “I get what I want.”

“No,” Victoria roared as the young woman sobbed.

All around them, the room balked. Gasps reverberated. The guard drew his sidearm, pointing the barrel at her face, and snarled his, snapping at her in Russian.

“We just want food,” she tried again.

He caressed the gun against the girl’s face then gestured to his belt. Sobbing, she cried that she didn’t want to, but her hands shakily went to her chest as though she were considering undoing the bastard’s pants.

Fucking hell.Furious anger coiled inside Victoria’s chest. “Food. That’s all we asked for. We didn’t cause problems. Leave her alone.”

The man laughed and pointed the gun back at her.Good.At least it was off the poor girl who was shaking like a leaf—Victoria was too, on the inside.

“It was my request, if that’s what it takes to get fed around here.” Carefully, she stepped toward the Russian pistol. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to blow the guy. She wouldn’t. But she wasn’t going to let the girl do it either.

The man cackled. “You are Ivan Mikhailov’s gift.”

She’d heard that so many times at this point it was almost a shield of protection. “So what? I’m hungry. Get up,” she said to the young girl who’d gone so pale Victoria thought she’d pass out. All of these girls were too young, too innocent to be here. What awaited them if she didn’t figure out a way to get them out was going to ruin their lives. “Go, honey. I’ve got this.”

A string of Russian fell from the guard’s angry, bellowing mouth. Spittle flew, and the veins at his temples popped.

If she was Ivan Mikhailov’s gift, the bastard wasn’t going to kill her, was he? Victoria walked face first to the barrel of the gun. “Honey, get to your cot.” The risk was high he would always kill another girl who wasn’t a billionaire’s gift. “We’re all his property. Are you really supposed to use any of us before he sees us first?”

Victoria sent up a prayer that Ivan Mikhailov was a possessive, controlling bastard who didn’t like to share his toys or investments. Each woman was unique in her features. They were all beautiful. They were handpicked. This was the sex trafficking stable of a billionaire, and she knew when Mikhailov got his new business venture up and running, it would be bad for them, but right now, it was almost as though they were wrapped in a protective layer.

“We need food,” she demanded, “before Ivan Mikhailov arrives to find us wasting away.”

The unexpected sound of footsteps broke the tension as the other man came back, two more sacks of food in hand. Victoria turned to see his face falter as he tossed them down. The two men scowled, bickering back and forth, voices dropping in angry tones, but she didn’t understand a word.

The guard slammed his jaw shut and holstered his weapon. Without saying another word, he stomped out. The other man simply gestured to the new bags of food, turned, and left as well.

“Merci.” The girl who had been on her knees rushed over, wrapping her arms around Victoria.

The chatter in the room began, and the realization dawned on all of them that they were from all over the globe. It also seemed that Victoria was their chosen leader for as long as they were in this situation. They hadn’t talked much, but maybe it was time to change that. “My name is Victoria, and I will do whatever I can to make sure we survive this.”

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