Page 115 of Aurelian Prisoner

I feelsostupid for thinking I could take on a crime-boss all by myself. I feel so stupid for thinking we’d fooled Torelli with our display yesterday – of my triad fucking me, in front of that crowd.

The entire time, Torelli must have been laughing at us – way ahead of our scheme.

I don’t care, though.

If nothing else, I’ve found Lilac – or, what’s left of her.

I’ve been dreaming about finding my sister every day for three years. Now she’shere! Just a few feet away from me!

I crawl towards her, hoping for her to recognize me, but there’snothingin her eyes.

The blankness breaks my heart.

Torelli laughs. “I expect your triad to come looking for you – but no matter. They’ll have three Reavers from Law Enforcement Orb-Shifting in to take them into custody within the hour – if they don’t just shoot them dead.”

I shudder. My triad! Those three gorgeous, devoted, honorable men.

They’ll be arrested, or killed – because ofme.

I know, I know… I’d toyed with the idea of condemning them to that fate before…

…but I’d never had the strength of will to go through with it. Icouldn’t.

I craved my freedom. I was terrified of becoming their slave.

But at a deep, fundamental level…

…I truly loved them.

Torelli sees my anguish, and he smiles.

“That’s right, little one. No one’s coming to save you anymore – and you’re the only person who’s ever come to try and save your sister.”

He snorts bitterly.

“Well, good news. I’m selling you both as a package deal. Identical twins. I know it’s not strictly true, but it’s close enough. Men love that – enough that they’ll even kid themselves into believing it.”

I sob, and Torelli grins as he watches the tears roll down my cheeks.

“Enjoy the rest of your life,” he growls, and then he gives me one more kick for good measure. I feel his sharp-tipped shoe sink hard into my side and hear one of my ribs crack. Pain shoots through my body.

I clutch my side, groaning in agony, as Torelli turns and leaves.

As soon as he’s gone, I rip the gag out of my mouth. It’s only an oily, dirty rag.

I throw the fabric down and crawl to Lilac, grabbing her and holding her closely as I sob into her shoulders.

After a moment, I lift my head - grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eyes.

Nothing.

She’s like a ghost – empty and spiritless.

“Lilac,” I sob, “it’sme! It’s your sister! Please! Remember me. Please, Lilac! Please remember me!”

I’m pleading to her – but I know she’s been through so much abuse and pain that I can barely see anything left of humanity in her glassy eyes.

It breaks my heart.

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