The dress was black. It was cut so low in the front it barely covered her, and the back was non-existent. It was a second skin of silk and shame.
Elenora stood in front of the mirror. The makeup artist Fitzgerald had hired had covered the bruise on her cheek and the cut on her forehead. She looked beautiful. She looked like a doll.
She stepped into the hallway.
The usual guard wasn't there. It was a new kid. Silas. He couldn't be more than twenty. He had acne scars on his chin and nervous eyes.
When he saw Elenora, he blushed. He looked at the floor.
"Follow me, Miss," he mumbled.
Elenora walked slowly. The drugs the doctor had given her made the world feel sharp and jittery.
"Please," she whispered.
Silas stiffened.
"This dress... it's too tight. I feel faint."
She leaned against the wall, putting a hand to her forehead. It wasn't entirely an act.
Silas reached out to steady her. "Miss? Are you okay?"
His touch was gentle. It was the first gentle thing she had felt in days.
"Please," she said, grabbing his wrist. "I just need a phone. One minute. My father... he's dying."
Silas looked at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. He looked at her tear-filled eyes.
"I can't," he whispered. "The Boss..."
"He's going to kill my father," Elenora sobbed. "Please."
Silas wavered. He was young. He saw a damsel in distress, not a prisoner.
He pulled her behind a large marble pillar, a blind spot.
"Thirty seconds," he hissed, pressing a burner phone into her hand.
Elenora's fingers flew across the keypad. She dialed Jered, the family lawyer.
Pick up, pick up, pick up...
"Hello? Jered's voice. "Elenora? My God, the police have a file open-"
"Jered, I'm... he has me. You have to find-"
The phone was ripped from her hand.
Elenora spun around.
Fitzgerald was there. He wasn't looking at the phone. He was looking at Silas.
Silas dropped to his knees. His face went gray. "Boss, I-"
Fitzgerald crushed the phone in his hand. Plastic cracked. Glass shattered. He dropped the debris on the floor.
He grabbed Elenora by the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. He pushed her face against the cold stone of the pillar.
"I told you," he whispered into her ear. "No secrets."
He looked at Silas.
"Take him downstairs."
Two massive guards appeared from the shadows. They grabbed Silas. The boy started screaming.
"No!" Elenora yelled, struggling against Fitzgerald's grip. "It was me! I forced him!"
Fitzgerald laughed. It was a dark, ugly sound.
"Defending your new boyfriend already?"
Jealousy, hot and irrational, poured off him. She had begged him. A nobody guard.
Fitzgerald watched Silas get dragged away. He turned Elenora's face so she had to watch too.
"The dinner is cancelled," he said. "We have a lesson to learn."
