“No,” I say immediately, shaking my head. “I’m not wearing those.”
Her smile falters. “These will make your legs look amazing—”
“If I keep wobbling and falling, no one will notice my legs,” I interrupt, moving toward my own black heels that are sitting by the bathroom door. “I’m clumsy as hell in stilettos. I’ll break my neck trying to walk in those things.”
“Please, won’t you give them a try?” she insists, holding out the heels. “They complement the dress perfectly.”
“And I’m telling you I can’t walk in them.” I slip my feet into my own shoes, sighing with what I hope looks like relief. “Look, I’ll compromise on everything else, but not the shoes. Please…” I plead with her. “Give me this one thing. I’m not asking a lot.” When she doesn’t respond, I add, “Please, I’ll end up flat on my face, and I doubt that’s the look your master is going for.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, and I can see her weighing her options. Finally, she sighs.
“Fine,” she says at last.
“Thank you.” I force a smile.
She moves toward a vanity table; its surface is covered with makeup and hair products.
“Sit,” she commands, patting the velvet-covered stool. “We need to dry your hair and apply some makeup. The master is waiting, and we’ve already taken longer than expected.”
I sit on the stool, trying not to think about what’s coming next. In the mirror, I can see my reflection – pale skin, dark circles under my eyes from whatever drug they gave me, and fear that I’m trying hard to hide.
Neilina works quickly with the hair dryer, using her fingers to style my short hair into something that looks effortlessly tousled. When she’s satisfied, she reaches for the makeup.
“I can do it myself,” I say, not wanting her hands on my face.
“Of course.” She steps back. “But don’t overdo it. Natural beauty should be enhanced, not hidden.”
I apply foundation with shaking hands, then add some mascara and a hint of lipstick. Nothing dramatic, just enough to look put-together. In the mirror, I watch Neilina hovering behind me, her gaze tracking my every movement.
“Can I please use the toilet before we go?” I ask when I’m finished with the makeup.
Her expression immediately becomes suspicious. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been unconscious for hours, and I really need to pee?” I give her a look and hope she takes me seriously. “Unless you want me to have an accident in front of your master.” I lift my brows.
She considers this for a moment, then nods. “Fiiiine! It’s through that door,” she says, pointing at the bathroom we exited not so long ago. “But you may not lock the door. And you have one minute. No longer.” She looks at her watch.
“Okay.”
I stand and walk toward the indicated door with Neilina at my heels. The toilet is in a separate room from the main bathroom, a small and private space with just a tiny window high up near the ceiling.
When it seems like the other woman might want to come inside the bathroom with me, I point at the tiny window.
“See? There’s no way I could fit through that, even if I wanted to. And I promise I’ll be less than a minute. You can even watch if you want.” I pray she doesn’t, or my plan won’t work.
Neilina peers into the small space, taking in the impossibly tiny window and the lack of any other exits. Finally, she nods.
“Hurry up,” she says. “And the door stays unlocked. I can break it down if need be.”
“Understood.”
I step into the small room and immediately move toward the toilet, making sure to create the sounds she’d expect. But insteadof sitting down, I lean against the door and carefully slip off my right shoe.
My fingers find the tiny mechanism hidden in the heel – a feature that was custom-made just before I started this mission. The compartment springs open with the softest click, and my burner phone falls into my palm.
Thank god it still has battery. I see unread messages but there is no time to look at them.
With trembling fingers, I quickly compose a text to Fury: