Page 19 of Savage Assassin

If I think about that, I’ll lose it. So I sit on the cot, hugging my knees to my chest, and I try to think about anything else. About my sister, about happier days, about how life was before Diego Gonzalez decided that he wanted to use us to gain power.

I don’t have any of my books with me, but I have my own imagination. I can use it to go far away from the little cell. So I do, until I hear footsteps coming down the aisle, and my stomach drops again, snatching me back to reality.

They stop in front of my cell. I look up to see Diego standing there, looking at me with a satisfied expression on his face.

“You’re the prettiest caged bird I’ve ever seen,” he says with a victorious smile. “Elena Santiago, at my mercy. This is what I should have done with your sister. If I had, maybe none of this would have been necessary. But as much as I would have rather seen her spitting venom at me from behind these bars with her wings clipped, there’s a certain pleasure in knowing that it’s you.”

“Why?” It’s the only word I can manage, my mouth forming the sound in a soft breath. I wish I could sound stronger, more determined,angrier. But I feel as if I used it all up in the escape. I’d been braver than I ever had in my entire life–and somehow, I’d ended up here anyway.

It doesn’t feel fair.

“Why am I glad it’s you?” He grins lasciviously. “I’m glad you asked, princess. You see, your sister was defiant. It would have been a pleasure to break her, to hear her beg, when all that fire had finally been put out. But you–”

He steps closer to the bars, licking his lips as he leans in, eyes twinkling with a wicked gleam that makes me feel sick all over again. “You’re so very innocent, Elena Santiago. So pure and gentle. I’ll have the pleasure of watching that innocence be shattered, of watching you be debased for the pleasure of the man who buys you, of seeing you entirely destroyed. And that, in turn, will destroy your family.”

Everything he says makes me feel sick. But I cling to the last words, to the tiny shred of hope that they give me. I don’t think that he only means Isabella. And if so, that means my father, at the very least, is still alive.

“Anything is better than marrying you,” I hiss, hoping the words sound more convincing than I feel. “I’d rather die than marry you, have your children, act as if Iwantyou. Disgustingpigof a man.”

Diego laughs. “Strong words from a little girl behind bars. But I can assure you, once you experience what’s in store for you, you’ll understand how very wrong you are. I’ll enjoy seeing you come to that realization, in time.”

He turns to go, glancing at a guard approaching. “You,” he says sharply, gesturing. “Take one of the women who isn’t the Santiago girl. Let her see a taste of what’s coming for her.”

“No!” I jump up, rushing towards the bars as the guard grins, reaching for his keys. “You can’t do that! You’re selling them too–you can’thurtthem–”

“Oh, he won’t leave anylastingmarks,” Diego says, with that same satisfied smile. “But I can’t very well let him teach you this lesson. Your virginity is very important. Veryexpensive.So instead, I’ll let you see the consequences of your sharp tongue, exercised on someone with less value. You’ll be just a little less innocent when he’s finished.”

I realize, with stark horror, that Diego is going to watch. He steps back further, the satisfied smirk still on his face as he watches the guard advance on the cell, unlocking the door.

“You.” He points at the redhead, who stares at him with wide, terrified eyes, her mouth opening on a plea. As he strides forward to grab her, pushing the other girls out of the way, the blonde looks at me with an expression that clearly saysI told you so.

It isn’t my fault. I know that. I know that Diego is doing this to make the other women hate me, to make mefeelas if it’s my fault, to hurt me in ways that physical violence never could. To scar me in ways that it never could.

But as the guard shoves her against the wall, her face pressed against it as he pushes up the hem of the fragile slip that she’s wearing and kicks her legs apart as he fumbles with his zipper, I can’t convince myself entirely that itisn’tmy fault. That I should have known how a man like Diego would punish me for my insolence.

“Don’t look away,” Diego says, his voice closer now as he moves to where he can have the best view. “If you look away, princess, I’ll bring in another guard and another, until every woman in this building has had to be the means for you to learn your lesson.”

I know when he says that, that I can’t look away, no matter how much I want to.

And I know I’ll never be able to stop seeing it or stop hearing the sound of her sobs.

I’d never known just how horrible the world could be, until right this moment.

Levin

I’ve never felt more out of place in my life than I do at this fucking party.

I can blend in well enough with a suit quickly purchased and tailored, expensive enough to pass for one of these self-important billionaires, courtesy of Ricardo. I know the bearing and the behavior–I’ve spent most of my life around people like this. I’ve been trained to the point of muscle memory to blend in, to be unseen, to fit in anywhere and with anyone.

Butfuck, do I feel uncomfortable.

Diego’s mansion is far more ostentatious than the Santiago estate. The main gathering point prior to the auction is the central courtyard in the middle of the mansion, with a glass roof domed overhead and a massive fountain in the center, splashing as white-uniformed staff mill around with food and drinks, passing them out to men in suits.

I move through the crowd, taking a glass from a passing tray and sipping idly from it as I listen to the snippets of conversation that I can pick up. I’m aware that there could be information I could pick up here that might be beneficial to the Kings, with so many high-ranking cartel members here, and other associates. So while I wait for the auction to start, I try to do what reconnaissance I can in the meantime. It helps to take the edge off and makes me feel as if I have something to do besides bide my time. But all I can really think about is Elena.

The sense of failure that it’s gotten this far burns deep. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve had nightmares, but the last two nights, I’ve barely gotten any sleep, caught up in dreams of Lidiya bleeding out in our bed. Elena being dragged away screaming, and the sickening sense of being unable to stop any of it as I watch it happen, frozen in place in the dream, paralyzed.

This is my chance to make that failure right, to save Elena. So even if the means of it makes me uncomfortable–which it does–it doesn’t matter.

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