Page 17 of The Caged Girl

There were some whispers filled with annoyance by the men in the seating behind us.

“But fear not, you each have your very own fantasy assigned to you. The gorgeous nightingales in front of you are here to serve you and your wildest dreams. Please remember, at the end, one guest will be selected to participate in my favorite part of the experience. Until then, enjoy your release. Your wives are all sipping champagne poolside, thinking their husbands are in resort group therapy.” Alister and the rest of the men laughed.

I was gritting my teeth while clenching my fists.

The girls were all so thin and under their eyes were deepened bags, probably from malnourishment.

The room was too dark. Only the glimmers from the one light that shined on Alister allowed me to see the others. I wanted to be a coward and run; I wanted to go back upstairs to the main resort and find Bradley and beg him to explain everything to me.

Alister sat on the black stool and placed his elbows on his knees while leaning forward. “We call the girls in Euphoria my precious little nightingales. There is a reason for this, gentlemen.”

“In ancient Greek mythology, there was a goddess called Philomela. She was raped and mutilated by her sister’s husband, Tereus. She eventually got revenge and was transformed into a nightingale, a bird renowned for its song. But there’s more to this story that will be uncovered as we create our own journey with my gorgeous nightingales, that I’m sharing with you thirsty bastards. Ultimately, the only nightingales that can sing are males, and that is how it should be. Women need to be silenced; we are too tired to listen to their nonsense. They don’t need a voice and there is only one good use for their pretty little mouths.”

Laughter echoed around us as the men clapped. My head was light as I recalled Ian Ivory’s obsession with Greek mythology and the story about the peonies. The story Alister Ivory was fixated on was about a woman who was mutilated and raped? I looked around at the girls, who were stoic. I could see tears streaming down some of their cheeks, while others looked as if they were void of all emotion.

“Nightingales, it is time for you to report to your cages and remember to make daddy happy.” I officially wanted to vomit. The girls stood around me and began walking in sync.

“Get up.” Karina was in the row in front of me. She cut her eyes and shook her head as I looked behind me and the line I was holding up because I was frozen. I didn’t want to go and see what was next. I didn’t want to save these girls. I wanted to run away and let them die the same way I did to the girls back in Charlotte.

How could I single-handedly end this without getting myself killed? I also knew that day in the ocean when another boat appeared to save me wasn’t a coincidence. Bradley and I were being followed and watched. The Ivory family had eyes and ears everywhere.They only let you die if they want you dead. They know the greater torture is being alive and under their control.

CHAPTERTWELVE

I stoodin front of the door that was engraved in gold lettering, Cage Eight. The others had already gone into their designated rooms.

My chest was rising and falling rapidly as I pressed my hand against the door, and it slid open.

It was Declan Rothschild, the man I had welcomed to the resort with his wife, Sage earlier. But it wasn’t the man who startled me; it was the room. The room was mostly dark beyond a red light flickering in the corner, and there was a black cage. There was also a table of items: leather whips, handcuffs, knives, and other items I had no idea what they were.

Declan was dressed in a suit, but his button-down was removed. His face flushed red as soon as the door closed behind me, and I pressed my back against the cold metal.

“I…I didn’t request,” he stammered as he began tugging at the hem of his suit jacket.

“You didn’t request what?” I cleared my throat and tried to stop looking at the cage that had a small swing and chains in it. The room was too warm, unlike the rest of the floor.

Declan blew out a breath of air and stood. “Not what…who. I didn’t know it would be you.”

A red light switched to green, and Declan’s eyes widened. “They told us we’d be financially penalized if we didn’t use this time for what it is allocated for.” He slid his jacket off and I pressed my palms on the door behind me. Looking behind, I noticed there was no lock or doorknob. I was trapped.

“Mr. Rothschild, there’s actually been a mistake.”

“She doesn’t let me choke her.” He slowly walked toward me.

I was trembling as his gaze fell all over my body. I hated how dark the room was, and how the whites of his eyes stood out more. I hated how I couldn’t run.

“Mrs. Rothschild seems like such a wonderful wife.” My voice shook as he placed his hands around my waist.

“You’re gorgeous. I’ve never been with a woman who wasn’t White. I’ve always wanted to try someone exotic like you.” He smiled. “I think they didn’t read through my application as carefully.” Declan let out a laugh as he raised his hands up my body.

“Application?” I questioned.

He squinted at me, and I shuddered when he touched me.

“I don’t think I paid all this money to hear another woman fucking yap. Honestly, that’s why I asked for her to be gagged and bound before I entered.” His hand slammed around my neck and my lips parted in shock as I gasped for air.

“Please,” I screeched as his grip tightened and shock flooded through me.

He moaned as he continued to squeeze my throat. I wanted to fight back harder, but my mind wasn’t processing this quickly enough. I slapped my hands around his forearms and dug my nails into his skin, which only caused him to laugh.

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