Chapter 9 - THE CELL BELOW
Deep beneath the east wing of the estate, thirty feet below ground level, lay the estate's private security holding facility.
The air was cold, damp, and smelled of stone and iron.
Serena Montigue sat on a narrow metal bench inside Cell 3. Her ruined silk dress was stained with dirt, her hair was matted, and her manicured fingernails were raw from pounding against the heavy steel door for twenty-four hours.
CLANG.
The heavy iron door swung open with a screech of rusty hinges.
Victor walked into the cell, flanked by Mikhail. The dim overhead bulb cast long, menacing shadows across his face.
Serena scrambled off the bench, stumbling forward until she hit the iron bars of the inner gate. "Victor! Victor, please!" she shrieked, tears smearing her mascara across her pale cheeks. "I'm sorry! I lost my temper! I'll go to therapy! I'll do whatever you want! Just let me out of here!"
Victor stood three feet away, his hands resting casually in his coat pockets. "Your father signed over his shipping assets two hours ago, Serena. The Montigue family name no longer exists in Chicago."
Serena gasped, clutching her throat. "My... my father? What did you do to him?!"
"He’s on a flight to South America with five thousand dollars in his pocket," Victor replied coldly. "Which is five thousand dollars more than you deserve."
"You can't keep me here forever!" Serena screamed, her voice cracking into wild hysteria. "My friends know I came here! The media will ask questions!"
"The media believes you fled the country after your father's firm went bankrupt," Victor said flatly. "Mikhail arranged your travel itinerary yesterday. As far as the world is concerned, Serena Montigue is living in luxury in Geneva."
Serena backed away from the bars, her eyes wide with absolute, paralyzing terror. She realized then that Victor hadn't just cancelled their wedding—he had systematically erased her existence from society.
"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered, trembling.
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"You like ordering people around, Serena," Victor said softly, turning his back on her. "So you're going to spend the next five years working in our private labor compound in the north. Maybe by the time your sentence is done, you'll know what it feels like to have no voice."
"Victor! NO! VICTOR!" Serena screamed, beating her fists against the steel door as Mikhail locked it shut, plunging her back into absolute darkness.
