Did someone glue it shut?
I felt around for the latch. We were in someone’s home, not a rundown warehouse. So it made little sense why they would bolt the windows. Was this a precaution to keep the girls from running away? In the middle of the ocean, on an island compound, we had nowhere to run. Even if we made it out of the house, which was unlikely, we couldn’t swim our way to safety.
After most of the room emptied, I poked my head out from behind the curtain. Only a few of the working girls remained, busy slapping makeup on the faces of the auction girls. I clutched my chest and closed my eyes, begging a higher power to give me the strength. My heart raced out of my chest, beating so fast I could hardly catch my breath. On this side of the room, there were at least five windows. So I used this to my advantage. I moved out from behind the curtain, hurrying to the next window with my pulse pounding in my ears. If Alex could escape, maybe I could, too.
I wasn’t important enough for anyone to care, making it easier for me to make my way to the last window, the one closest to the door. Men in suits ran down the hall, and I pressed my back flat against the wall and held my breath. I waited for them to pass and peeked into the hallway.
Dress shoes clicked on the tiled floor. Loud voices traveled away from me, the crowd moving to the opposite end of the house. This was my only chance to get away from this place. I only had to make it outside, one step closer to freedom. And if Alex was right, we had people looking for us. People who would help us leave the island unscathed.
Feeling brave, I slipped off my heels and left the dressing room with the stilettos in my hand. I had trouble walking in them, anyway. And I didn’t need them giving away my location. I slinked down the hallway, careful not to make a sound, staying as close to the wall as possible. Cameras lined the hallway, so I did my best to avoid them at all costs.
Closer to the living room, I passed a wall of doors. One after the other, I turned the knobs, not surprised to find the rooms locked. Then, finally, the last one opened. I almost squealed with delight, unable to contain my excitement. Maybe I could hide here until the crowd died down, until after the auction was over.
That was my only hope.
I stepped into the room and shut the door. The lingering scent of Alex’s floral perfume filled the air. It was an unmistakable smell that belonged to her. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t see a few feet in front of me. The room was dark, with nothing more than the light flowing in through the open window.
Relieved, I ran over to it and stuck my head outside. A cool breeze smacked against my cheek. I breathed in the ocean’s saltiness and sighed. Blinking a few times, I cleared my vision, adjusting to my dark surroundings. I didn’t see any men posted up on this side of the house.
Where had everyone gone?
Were they all looking for Alex?
This wasn’t the time to get jealous or be catty about Alexandrea Wellington. It had always bothered me that Marcello dropped everything for her without question. Because I wanted to be the one he wanted, the one his father wanted him to marry.
With my head in the clouds, I hadn’t heard the door creak open behind me until it was too late. My reflexes weren’t fast enough, and strong arms wrapped around me from behind, moving me away from the window with force. I tried to scream, but a hand covered my mouth.
“Calm down, princess,” Marcello growled against the shell of my ear. “It’s just me.”
Relief washed over me like tidal waves breaking. “Marcello?”
“Yeah, Rhi. Did you think I would leave you on this island to die?”
“No,” I muttered. “But you scared the shit out of me.”
“Better me than one of my enemies.”
“Who are these men?”
He rolled his shoulders, still holding me against his muscular chest. “We’re not sure. But this was all part of the plan. They wanted to lure us to the island to kill us.”
“Why am I here?”
“Because of me, I guess. I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out how you factor into all of this.”
“I thought maybe this had to do with my future husband.”
“Husband?” Marcello’s tone held the anger of a thousand lifetimes.
“My father arranged my marriage to Sean Donnelly. McDougal, the asshole who chased me through Beacon Bay, was one of Sean’s enemies.”
“You should have told me about the engagement, Rhi.”
“Would you have done something about it?”