Page 24 of Taken By the Dark Billionaires

Happy to see her gone, once Sutton was alone, she sat on the bed, clutching her possessions like they were her lifeline.

She had been snatched out of her world and thrust into something new, something that came with layers of darkness hidden in the shadows.

After taking a shower and scrubbing her skin until it burned—something she did when she was extremely nervous—Sutton forced herself to calm down. She had to think only about the good that would come from this. Her family was going to be okay.

Oh, god. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. They were really going to be okay. And all she had to do was be impregnated by three billionaires. Once their son was born, they would have no more use for her, and she’d be set free.

She didn’t have any other job prospects. Limited experience and a lack of tertiary education meant she’d have to work a hundred times harder for an absolutely tiny, tiny portion of what they would be paying her.

She didn’t know why she was thinking about this. She was willing to do anything within her power for her family’s welfare. This was a job. That was all.

She used her organic coconut oil to moisturize her skin, then layered her own lotion all over her body. The combination of coconut oil and lavender-scented lotion soothed her skin.

She didn’t bother to open the sealed packages of makeup Mrs. Hampstead had taken the liberty to buy for her. Instead, she used the little she had. She blow-dried her hair with a brush until it was sleek, then took a side part, tugged it behind her ears, and let the rest of her hair hang simply down her back.

The dress was stunning. The fabric was so light and willowy that it glided over her skin and then fell over her body in whispers and trails of chiffon right down to her feet.

Thick bands of pale pink material were draped over her shoulders and her breasts, leaving the middle of her torso bare. It dipped the same way at the back. A belt cinched her waist, and from there, the dress cascaded to the floor like the petals of a flower. The shoes fit her perfectly and were the same shade as the dress, completing the look.

It was exactly five minutes before 7 p.m. when a knock sounded on the door. This time it was a kind-looking woman dressed in the crimson robe from the night before, and suddenly Sutton felt as if she had stepped from the modern world back into the old world again.

She was doing the right thing. If she was willing to sacrifice anything for Laura and her children, then this was the ultimate sacrifice. She was ready.

She was led down to the same elevator as the day before. But instead of feeling the fear that had been rampant in every part of her being that afternoon, she remembered only their touch and how breathless it had made her.

“Can you tell me what’s going to happen to me?”

“Of course, dear. It’s your breeding ceremony. A very auspicious occasion for all of us in the Basilisk family. It only happens once every one hundred and fifty years, and then only when the masters in training are able to complete a series of tests that are beyond human capabilities, frankly,” she smiled fondly as she mentioned her masters. “But our Masters are the best of them all. And you, my dearest lady, will make a most fitting mistress for the Masters, I say. You are the vision of loveliness and goodness.”

Sutton had stopped listening to the priestess after she said the wordsbreeding ceremony.

Breeding ceremony.

Not wanting to be rude, she murmured a squeaky thank-you for the compliment.

A whirlwind of panic sailed through her and weakened her limbs. She couldn’t move, and the priestess had to link her arm with Sutton’s to pull her along when the elevator doors opened.

Her breeding ceremony.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

With her trepidation high, she took in her new surroundings. Brilliantly lit, the dungeon had been transformed into something entirely else, or maybe she just hadn’t noticed the finer details before.

Everything—the walls, the furniture, and the chandelier-like candelabra hanging from the ceiling—had depictions of the basilisk and the lily.

The table beneath the candelabra was set with a feast of food, their aromas reaching Sutton at once. She skipped the sandwich Mrs. Hampstead had left her. Well, she skipped the sandwich because it looked wet and soggy, and she wasn’t picky by any standards, having grown up poor and neglected. But she had a point to prove to the housekeeper.

It was then that she noticed, in the shadows, a line of crimson-robed women. She immediately recognized Briella.

Sutton didn’t think she would be happier to see someone whom she had met for all of five minutes—well, it certainly felt that long. But she was so drawn to the other girl that she didn’t think twice about approaching.

“Briella,” Sutton said, relief lacing her voice. A familiar face was all she needed right now.

“Mistress Sutton. I’m so happy to see you again. But you can’t talk to me. You mustn’t forget my place,” Briella whispered, a tinge of color to her cheeks, maybe because Sutton had singled her out. “You are the Masters’ mistress now, my lady, and I’m—” She cut herself off and then bowed her head low, trembling. Sutton turned to look behind her to see what had stopped Briella from talking.

She melted at the sight of them standing side by side, watching her. Her breath faltered. Her body started to heat up, and her fresh, clean panties dampened instantly.

How had they appeared so silently?

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