Page 4 of Jay Bird

As she stepped into the hallway, another thought slipped into her mind—the women. No, it couldn’t be that. Chen couldn’t know.

Willow had helped several women over the years in small ways whenever opportunities presented themselves. Sometimes it had been information. A door conveniently left unlocked. A warning about a guard’s schedule. Once, a key had somehow ended up where a frightened nineteen-year-old could find it.

Willow never allowed herself to know what happened afterward, because knowing was dangerous.

The most recent had been a woman named Riley.

Willow hadn’t known much about the woman except that she was American and, unlike most women who came through Chen’s hands, Riley hadn’t been taken randomly. Chen had wanted her specifically, and Willow had eventually learned she was some kind of federal agent.

She had been with Chen the day Riley was supposed to be sold, and even now Willow could still see the terror in Riley’s eyes as if it had been burned into her memory. In that moment, something inside her had shifted, and she had made a decision. A dangerous one. One that she hadn’t fully thought through, but knew she had to help. And somehow, against every expectation and every rule she was supposed to follow, that choice had been enough to help Riley get away.

The fallout afterward had been unlike anything Willow had witnessed during her captivity. Chen’s operation had taken a significant hit after Riley’s escape, and he had become obsessed with discovering how she had managed it and who had helped her.

But he had never suspected Willow. At least, that was what she had always believed. She had clung to that thought for the last few months, using it like a fragile shield to convince herself she was invisible to him.

Her pulse quickened as she followed the two men down the sweeping staircase, and she tried to steady herself, telling herself to stop it, that if Chen knew, she would already be dead. That thought should have reassured her, but it didn’t.

Willow forced herself to concentrate on her surroundings instead. The mansion was enormous, an obscene display of wealth hidden behind towering walls and armed guards. Chen owned homes all over the world, though very few were actually registered in his name. This estate sat outside Marrakesh, Morocco, concealed behind a tall, solid wall that felt suffocating.

She knew the layout of the mansion like the back of her hand. She knew which hallways had cameras and which had blind spots. She knew the guard’s schedule.

She had spent the last few months memorizing everything, because she intended to escape.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would be easy. Chen watched her closely, and Lily made disappearing much harder, but Willow had been quietly preparing anyway.

A bag sat hidden in an old storage area near the kitchen. Nothing impressive, just clothes for Lily, a change of clothes for herself, bottled water, a few snacks, basic toiletries, and every bit of cash she had managed to get her hands on.

It was amazing how many times guards, household staff, and even Chen himself left money out in the open. At first, she thought it was a trick. But as time went on, she realized that it wasn’t.

It wasn’t much, but over time, it had quietly added up. It still wasn’t nearly enough to start over, not even close, but it was enough to run. All Willow needed was an opportunity.

The men stopped outside the massive double doors leading into Chen’s office, and Willow’s stomach tightened.

One of them knocked.

“Enter,” the deep, accented voice said.

The guard opened the door and gave Willow a brief, silent gesture to go ahead. She hesitated only for a fraction of a second before stepping into the room, the weight of the moment pressing against her chest, while the two men who had escorted her remained behind and did not follow her in.

The door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

Chen sat behind his desk.

Willow immediately lowered her gaze. Her hands had started trembling, so she clasped them loosely in front of herself, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

After three years, she knew exactly what Chen was capable of. She had been whatever he wanted her to be on any given day, and when his temper turned ugly, she had learned she could become his punching bag just as easily as his companion.

“Come here,” he ordered.

Willow moved forward until she stood several feet from the desk, being sure to stay quiet.

The silence dragged on until it became almost unbearable, pressing in on Willow from every side, until at last she heard the faint scrape of Chen’s chair against the floor. Her heart immediately picked up its pace, beating faster in her chest as dread settled deeper into her stomach.

She watched his expensive shoes appear in her lowered field of vision as he slowly walked around the desk and stopped directly in front of her.

“Look at me.”

The command surprised her, and Willow’s head lifted before she could stop herself.