Page 32 of Fallen Saint

An almost nude lipstick coats my full lips, but the subtle rose undertones seem to draw out the pink.

My makeup isn’t overdone. As it appears, I’m hardly wearing much at all. But that’s the look Sara has gone for. “What do you think?” she asks nervously.

Leaning forward to take a closer look in the dresser mirror, I gently bring my curls over my shoulders to frame my face. Her skills rival any makeup artist in Hollywood. “You’ve done a great job.”

“Then why do you look like you’re seconds away from bursting into tears? You look beautiful.”

Peering at her reflection, I frown sadly. “Isn’t that the problem? The reason I’m here.” It’s because of my beauty that I was chosen, and at this moment, I would give anything not to stand out in a crowd. I want to blend in. I don’t want to be special. I just want to be left alone.

Sara doesn’t know what to say, but truthfully, there isn’t a thing she can say.

“Let’s get this over with.” I stand, straightening out the soft material of my dress. The heels add a few extra inches to my frame.

Sara nods and retrieves a cell from her apron pocket. My eyes widen, but she soon puts an end to my excitement. “I can only make calls to Alek and some of his men. He’s blocked any other numbers. Besides, he monitors all our phones.” Regardless, I have to try.

“Can you reach Saint?” I ask, almost lunging for the cell.

“Yes, but like I said, Alek would know.”

“Sara, please,” I beg, but she shakes her head firmly.

“I’m sorry, Willow. I can’t. He would kill me.” Her lower lip trembles. She is clearly terrified, so I let it go.

“I understand.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t risk it. The last girl who disobeyed Alek…” She doesn’t continue, but there is no need for her to. I can fill in the blanks on my own.

She nods, her remorse clear that she can’t do more. She texts someone, and within five minutes, there is a knock on the door. “My chariot awaits,” I sarcastically quip, taking three deep breaths as Sara opens the door.

A young man stands outside my bedroom, but when he locks eyes with Sara, I see it. Something is going on between them. The blushing of her cheeks confirms it. From the way they politely greet one another, I’m guessing any relationship under Alek’s roof is strictly forbidden.

“Hi, I’m Hans. I’m to take you to where Alek and his guests are.” His has a strong German accent. I don’t fear him because his gentle brown eyes reflect the same sorrow as mine and Sara’s.

“Hi, Hans.”

He nods, but there is no time for small talk. He gestures I’m to follow him. Bidding farewell to Sara, I find her wringing her hands together, and the sight only adds to my nerves.

Hans wears black pants, a black T-shirt, and boots, similar attire to when I first met Saint. The gun at his hip isn’t concealed. I wonder what he did to end up here because it seems everyone within these walls is here against their will.

We walk the corridor, my heels clicking on the polished flooring as we make our way to the foyer. It’s still hard to believe how lavish this place is. Sara called it ??????? ??????, and I wonder what it means.

“They are in the den,” Hans says, but every corner we turn looks the same. This is a different way from where I went today.

I follow quietly, trying my best to establish a path, a pattern because I need to learn the blueprint of this place. That trapdoor in the kitchen leads somewhere, and I’d rather I know where, instead of jumping down the rabbit’s hole without any idea of what’s headed my way.

A sketch of a naked woman on the wall will act as my marker because down the small corridor, I can see a group of men sitting around a poker table, smoking cigars and sipping from their crystal glasses.

My stomach turns when Alek comes into view. He’s seated at the head of the table with a deck of cards in his hands. When he hears us approaching, he turns to look over his shoulder, and his eyes come alight when he sees me.

I’m caught off guard when he stands. It’s such a chivalrous thing to do when a lady enters the room, but we all know Alek is no such thing. He makes no secret of examining me from head to toe. Three other men are with him, and instantly, the hair at the back of my neck stands on end. Not because they are malevolent in appearance, but because they are completely normal.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

They look like upstanding citizens, and judging by their expensive attire, they are extremely wealthy. But the fact they’re here socializing with Alek proves they are monsters just like him.

“I’m at a loss for words,” Alek says as I enter. Hans stands off to the side with his hands linked behind his back. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

He extends his hand, indicating for me to approach, but I am suddenly frozen to the spot with what I see. On a large leather sofa in the corner of the room, Zoey lays with two other women. All are naked. Their limbs are entwined as they are sprawled out languidly in what appears a drug-induced state.

---