For two days, I eat all the meals the maid brings. I shower, fix myself up, and put on designer clothes. I only sleep in the bed. The remainder of the day, I sit in the chair and stare out the window or pace the room.
The next morning, the maid returns with breakfast. "Eat, then get ready. Your flight leaves in a few hours."
"My flight?"
She doesn't answer me and leaves.
I do what she says and wait.
She comes back and escorts me through the apartment. William is talking on the phone near the door. It's the first time I've seen him since he told me he would kill Millie or I could earn her back. He quickly assesses me, and my skin crawls.
"Put it in motion. It's time we make our move." He hangs up the phone. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"Belize City."
I say nothing and follow him to the car. The ride to the airport is silent. We get on the plane, and I sit next to him, with his sage scent lingering in my nose, keeping my gut on a constant spin cycle.
He makes phone calls the majority of the six-hour flight, which I'm relieved about. I don't want to have to converse with him and possibly say the wrong thing.
We get to the embassy in Belize and are escorted to our suite. The closet is already full.
"Put on an evening gown. You have two hours to look perfect. Tonight, you will stay with me and will service me how I please."
Bile rises in my throat.
Don't show any emotion. He will kill Millie.
I rise and go to the closet. I pull out a long, emerald-green evening gown with tags on it. I hold it out. "Will this work for tonight?"
His eyes travel over the length of my body, and goose bumps pop out on my skin. His cold eyes meet mine, and I cringe inside, knowing what that look means. William's voice lowers. "Yes."
Don't lose it. Millie will die.
I hang it on the hook on the wall. "I need to get ready if we're leaving in two hours."
He steps toward me and places his hands on my cheeks, tilting my head up. It's rough but not as bad as previously. The scent of sage fills my nose, twisting my gut. "Don't embarrass me tonight."
"I won't," I manage to get out. "Do you want my hair down or up?"
"Down."
I force a smile. "Okay. I really do need to start getting ready if we're leaving in two hours."
He releases me. "Nothing less than perfect," he warns again and leaves the room.
I sigh but don't dawdle, going through the motions.
Two hours later, he comes to get me. I'm sitting on the chair, overlooking Belize City, fidgeting with my hands. I pray I look perfect and don't do anything tonight to get Millie killed.
And I keep trying to stop the nausea I feel over what I know is going to happen tonight when we get back home.
"Stand up," he barks.
I obey.
"Turn."