Page 33 of The Devil of Hollywood

“Were you here when I arrived? Did you see if I came in with anyone? Maybe a woman with dark hair?”

The man’s brows drew in, and we started walking slowly again.

More pause. He looked at me, going back to my stare. Searching… for assurance. The stare was addicting. Insinuating. He’d wonder if my look meant something special. Something ‘more’. And he wanted it to on some level. I could sense it. “You were here when I arrived last night. I came in to check on you. For the briefest moment, you opened your eyes. You don’t remember?”

My lips parted as I took in his expression. What it held, I wasn’t sure, but I slowly shook my head.

“I don’t remember anything. I… I only just woke up.”

“It’s probably for the best. Let’s go.”

“I didn’t get your name.”

We headed straight and rounded a turn. I nearly gasped as we approached two large white French doors, glistening with gold molding.

“David. Now, listen to my warning. If you run, you get beat. If you speak to anyone, you get beat. If you revolt at any point and fight, I will beat you. There is no escape from The Order. None. To try could get you killed. Follow the rules, or it won’t go well for you.”

My heart was racing again. I nodded, not sure what to expect as we headed forward and he opened the doors. What I was faced with, I didn’t understand. Slowly, I walked forward at the loud buzz of voices, more in a dream than the reality I was forced to endure.

There were men—expensively dressed men sitting at dozens of thick wooden tables. There was a feast laid out along the length with multiple dishes and sides gathered in the middle. David pulled me forward like a child as I tried to process what was happening.

This couldn’t be real. This place, this… punishment? Was I in trouble? What were these men doing, and where were all the women? David said I’d be sold, but to whom? To these men? For… sex? Worse? I couldn’t understand why I was here. My mind still wasn’t clear. I could barely function enough to make it through the moment.

The hum of surrounding voices died out a little as we walked deeper off to the side towards stairs that led up to a second level. Men were looking at me. Some even pointed. My eyes were trying to take in everything from the large painted portraits on the wall to the sword and torture device décor. There was even a large table in the back, elevated a good few feet from the others. Movement on the ground stole my attention, and I sucked in air at the hand that was waving to me. It was subtle, more towards the girl’s feet, but I knew from the dark hair that was covering most of her face who it was. I didn’t think. I couldn’t.

I ripped my arm back and spun, taking off at a sprint right to the one person I promised to protect. Penny’s head flew up, and her eyes grew big as I raced in her direction. She fidgeted, looking up to the chair she was sitting next to in a panic. Her hand was going wild again, but it was waving me away. It was telling me to stop. I couldn’t. Fear wouldn’t let me. Pride wouldn’t.

Fingers wisped and grabbed at the bottom length of my hair, and I pushed myself faster, but it wasn’t enough as I flew past tables. The man grasped and yanked, and I screamed, feeling myself get ripped back.

“Penny! Let go of me! Penny, are you okay? Penny!”

The man kneeled for the briefest moment, slamming me to the ground as he did. All air left me as stars danced in the blur that rested above.

“I apologize, High Master—Unavowed. She doesn’t learn.”

Footsteps sounded as I tried to curl on my side. The throb in my head was back in full force, and I felt sick as I coughed and tried to catch my breath. Penny was sobbing and yelling.

“Mercy! Please, anything! Mercy!”

“Stand her up.”

A loud cry left me from the pain racing through my body. The room spun, and I was placed and held upright. Hard eyes met mine. To say the man was handsome was an understatement. He reminded me of Bastian with his black curls and deeply tanned skin, but this man’s face was hard angles where Bastian’s had more softer edges. He was beautiful… and terrifying with his empty hazel eyes.

“The infamous Marian LaRoe.” He smiled, not at all nice. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Waited? I don’t know you.”

His head slowly shook back and forth. “No. But you know her.”

Penny was still on her knees, her arms stretched out towards us. She was in the same slip dress as me, but Penny already had an upside-down crown burned into her chest. It had me breaking inside even more.

“I promised to protect her, and I will.”

“Protect her from me?” His smile grew wide. “But she’s mine.”

I glanced to Penny, only to come back to him. “Look at her,” I sobbed. “Look at Penny and tell me she looks happy to you. Tell me that’s a woman who feels safe. This is how you treat a woman you claim is yours?”

He looked over to her, his face turning hard as he came back to me.