Chapter 541

Olivia

As the others slept peacefully around me, all I could do was stare up at the boarded window and wish that I could see the stars.

One night. It was only supposed to be one night, and our plan felt just as bulletproof as this safehouse. But still, despite all of the emotional training I had undergone with Freya, no amount of meditation could cure my anxiety.

I felt like a prisoner.

It was ironic, really, to see that way—knowing fully well what these women had endured. Unlike me, they weren’t here of their own free will. They were here because running away to a safehouse with boarded-up windows, bulletproof doors, and countless padlocks and deadbolts in a strange land was the only preferable alternative to the life they had been forced to live.

As I laid there, staring at the heavily curtained and boarded window, I kept thinking back on everything.

Specifically, I kept thinking back on the conversation I had had with that escort on the boat. All of the escorts had amnesia, according to her; it was basically a natural part of the process of becoming one of them.

But why? Why did they all have amnesia, and how was it inflicted upon them?

And even more importantly, was it just a coincidence that Clarissa had amnesia as well?

I wasn’t sure how long I had been laying there; at least a couple of hours. Finally realizing that I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep in this cot, I quietly got up and padded out into the tiny living area in search of some tea.

“Oh! You scared me.”

I jumped at the sudden sight of a black head of hair at the kitchen table: Mira. We were both startled by the other’s presence, but I felt myself relax upon seeing her—as much as one could, given the current circumstances.

“Sorry,” I said softly as I approached. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She chuckled and lifted a cup of tea that she had already made for herself. “Same.”

Without me even having to ask her, Mira poured me my own cup of tea from the steaming teapot and set it in front of me. With a slight smile, I sat down on one of the folding chairs across the enamel table and wrapped my hands around the warm mug.

“Thank you,” I said.

Mira nodded so that her dark hair fell over her shoulder. We sat in silence for a few moments, neither of us saying a word as we sipped our tea. The herbs were soothing, a pleasant blend of peppermint and chamomile.

But they did nothing to quell my worries.

I looked over at Mira, whose face was surprisingly stony—maybe from years of training to keep her emotions to herself, or maybe because she genuinely wasn’t worried.

“So,” I said, twirling my cup around on the enamel-topped table, “are you… ready for tomorrow?”

Mira let out a tiny scoff, which was all the answer I needed. “Are you?” she asked.

I paused for a moment, considering whether to give away the fact that I was secretly terrified, but then realized that it wasn’t worth hiding it and shook my head. “I can’t help but worry that it’s all going to go wrong.”

Mira stared down at her cup for a few moments as though processing my words, the steam curling up into her serene face. It was only then, as I studied her expression, that I saw the tiniest flicker of emotion cross over her features: fear.

“Me too,” was all she said.

We fell silent again after that. It was somewhat uncomfortable, seeing as how only a few short weeks prior I had been under the impression that my husband was sleeping with her—and she was strikingly beautiful.

Finally, I broke the silence with another question. “What was it like for you?” I asked. “Before you became an escort, I mean.”

Mira looked up at me and blinked confusedly. “What do you mean?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Did you have any family? Any hopes or dreams?” I paused, swallowing. “I mean, you and the others will be free to do whatever you want pretty soon. Surely there’s something else that you wish you had pursued all this time.”

For a few moments, Mira just looked at me—and I realized then that her expression gave it all away. The statement on the boat had been correct. They really did all have amnesia.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “It’s just… I heard that you all have amnesia, and…”

“And you wanted to see if it was true?” she chuckled. “Or if you could jog my memory?”

I blushed a bit. “Maybe both of those things,” I admitted.

Mira let out a small sigh that almost seemed to make her deflate a bit as she sat across from me. “It’s true,” she said. “When new recruits join the program, their memories are erased using a special serum.”

“Why?” I asked, although I think I already knew the answer.

She shrugged. “Control. Making us lose almost all of ourselves. If we can’t remember anything from before, then we won’t have anywhere to run to—or any reason to run to begin with. All we’ll ever know is this life of being sex slaves.”

“And therefore, how could you know that there’s a better life out there for you?” I murmured thoughtfully.

Mira nodded and sighed again. “That’s their goal, yes. But we’re not stupid,” she said. “We know, still, that there are better things out there. And soon, we won’t have to wonder. We’ll be able to live it.”

As she spoke, I felt tears come to my eyes. It was both destructively sad and yet somehow bittersweet at the same time, to see the hope flicker in her expression.

“Can I ask you something else?” I asked.

“Ask away.”

I drew in a deep breath. The thought hadn’t fully formed yet, but it had been on my mind since the escort on the boat had mentioned their shared affliction.

“Clarissa,” I finally breathed. “Dan’s wife. She has amnesia too.”

Mira looked at me like I was an idiot for a second. “Well, yes,” she replied matter-of-factly. “She was one of us.”

At that moment, I felt my stomach flip inside of me. “She… She was?” I blurted out, my eyes widening to the size of small saucers. “But how…”

“She was in training to become an escort some years ago, back when I was a new recruit,” Mira said, her eyes taking on a thoughtful quality as she remembered. “But then, Dan met her. He seemed to take a liking to her, and they spent many nights together. And…”

She paused then, furrowing her brow; I couldn’t quite read her expression, whether it was that she was having a difficult time remembering or whether the memories pained her.

“One day, she just disappeared from our brothel,” she finally said. “A few months later, she was announced as Alpha Dan’s bride.”

Now, I was the one who was furrowing my brow. “And her memories were never restored?” I asked.

Mira shook her head. “Never.”

…

I awoke the next morning after finally getting some sleep, not to the familiar sensation of the warm morning sun hitting my cheek, but to the sound of voices in the kitchen. Yawning, I slowly sat up and stretched.

As I made my way out to the kitchen, I saw all of the other women gathered around the door. I thought, at first, that they were looking outside—maybe to get a glimpse of some sunlight.

But then I heard a male voice.

“I need to speak with Miss Olivia,” he said. “Promptly.”

“I’m here.” I stepped through the throng of women to see the envoy who had led us here yesterday—Anthony—standing in the doorway. He had an envelope in his hand, which he held out to me without a word.

Knitting my brow, I gingerly took the envelope and slid the contents out. Inside was a note with nothing more than two sentences written on it.

“Emergency at pack. Return home immediately.”

It was signed by Nathan.