Page 86 of Pageant

I get to my feet and reach beneath my thin foam mattress, feeling around for a split in the fabric. A moment later, I draw out a small, flat object. Konstantin was so eager to prove to everyone that I’m a stupid, needy whore. What fun he had, fucking me and humiliating me. I think that must have been the highlight of his week. Stupid Number Eleven laid her clothes across his desk as she undressed for him, and after, when thePakhanhad broken her, she bundled her clothes up in her arms and hurried out.

Taking her passport with her.

I feel around inside the hem of my dress. I carefully unpicked a small section with my fingernails while I was waiting to be called in to be executed. Today was going to be the day that Elyah would kill me. His honor as a man had to be satisfied, and so I satisfied it. I stepped off the table and his rope tightened savagely around my neck. I was seconds away from death.

But he brought me back. He held me close and made love to me. He spilled words of love into my mouth and allowed Lilia Aranova to touch his clothes and slip her treacherous fingers into his pockets.

All the while he argued with Konstantin, I kept my fists tightly closed. Angry, upset Lilia. The moment I left the judging room, I clutched the hem of my dress in despair.

I draw the key out of its hiding place, and it gleams in the dim light. You taught me well,Babulya.

She turned her heart cold to get what she wanted, while I made mine daring for Kirill, needy for Konstantin, and fiery hot for Elyah. Every day, I watched those men and learned what I could about them. I discovered what they needed to make them feel like they were getting the better of me. While Number Eleven was getting everything she wanted.

The dress I’m wearing has a belt and I use it to lash my passport against my ribs, out of sight. Reaching through the bars, I slip the key I stole from Elyah’s pants into the lock and turn it. I’ve never appreciated it until this moment, but there’s something blissful about the way a key moves in a lock. The resistance of the metal as the catches and springs move against the key. Then the resistance is gone, and the lock pops open.

With the merest press of my fingers, the door swings silently open, and I take my first step outside this cage as a free woman.

The other contestants are still awake, and they see someone moving outside the cells.

“What’s going on?”

“Is a guard unlocking a cell?”

“Who’s out of their cage?”

I take another step toward freedom, and another, and then turn to face the women. There are half a dozen gasps, and someone cries, “Lilia!”

I put my finger to my lips, warning them to be silent as I hold up the key for all of them to see. It catches in the light, sparkling and precious. Far more precious than pink diamonds.

“Does anyone still wish to call me a stupid little whore?” I call softly.

Fifteen pairs of eyes stare back at me in shock.

I walk slowly along the row to cages six and seven. Marija and Madison are sitting on their beds, gripping their mattresses as hatred mars their beautiful faces. I’m their jailer now, come to gloat over my victory.

“I told you everything I did up there was to help us down here. I told you that every word I spoke to those men and every look I gave them was a lie, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“I suppose you’re going to take your revenge by letting us rot in here,” Madison snarls.

I glance up the row of cages, at the desperate fingers curled around the bars. Some of the women are sobbing quietly and pleading with me in whispers.

I could do that. I could leave them all behind to be punished for my escape in my stead. But that was never my plan. No matter how many of these women stepped on me and ground me into the dust, they were just trying to survive.

“That’s not the revenge I want.” I slip the key into the lock on Madison’s cage and unlock it. Her face slackens with shock, and she jumps to her feet.

One by one, I unlock every cage in the cellar, holding my finger to my lips as I go to remind the women to stay silent. Every single one of them is able to walk out on her own two feet. Even Hedda, though she accepts Deja’s arm around her waist for support. Her broken nose looks painful and she’s going to need a doctor.

Marija stares around at everyone, unable to comprehend what’s happening. She turns to me and whispers, “You really meant what you said, but I didn’t trust you. I was horrible to you.” She purses her lips. “I don’t know if I would have let you out if our positions were reversed.”

“Yes, you would have. Besides, I need you. Someone has to help these women get out of here, and you’re the strongest. You’re going to lead them.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Me? What about you?”

I glance toward the stairs and back at her. “I have unfinished business with our captors.”

Our captors have to pay for what they’ve done to us. Proud Russian blood runs in my veins, just as it does in theirs. It’s not enough that Konstantin loses face tonight, outwitted by the women he locked in cages. He needs to lose everything. Total humiliation.

“You’re crazy,” she breathes, but there’s admiration in her eyes.

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