The air was intimate, sisterly, but to Ladina, it was a tableau of something she could not have: grace even in despair.
Her gaze crawled across their curves, the subtle way their bodies glowed in the low light. It wasn't just envy...it was an inferno, a growing rage that twisted her beauty into something bitter. She clenched her fists.
"You think you're some kind of queens, don't you?" she hissed.
They turned, startled. Annelise barely had time to react before Ladina marched forward. She raised her hand and slapped Eliane across the cheek. The sharp sound cracked through the room.
Eliane stumbled back, a gasp caught in her throat.
"Stop!" Annelise yelled, only to feel Ladina's fingers knot in her hair and yank her forward.
"You're not here to live like royalty! You're servants now. Understand? Get ready."
Eliane, holding her burning cheek, asked through gritted teeth, "Where are you taking us?"
Ladina didn't answer immediately. She stood tall, arms folded, enjoying the silence before she dropped the weight of the answer.
"To Matteo's house."
The car was black, sleek, the windows tinted dark. Annelise and Eliane sat side by side, silent. The car's soft hum was all that filled the void.
Outside, Tomasz stood on the stairs, sipping his espresso when he saw them. His breath caught. His eyes scanned the way the two women carried themselves—even in silence, even in suffering....they moved like poetry. For a second, he forgot the empire, the schedules, the power.
"Sir," a voice behind him said, "it's time for the meeting."
Tomasz nodded, eyes still locked on them. He turned and walked with Ladina into the estate, their silhouettes swallowed by the villa's grandeur. Tomasz...the man even the coldest feared.....had found himself shaken by two broken lights.
In her office, Ladina locked the door behind her. She moved to the bathroom. The mirror loomed, tall and unforgiving. She undressed slowly, each piece falling to the floor like the remnants of pride.
There she stood...naked, flawless, the body of a sculptor's dream...but all she could see was what they had and she didn't. Not the curves. Not the skin.
It was the softness. The pain that made them human. She slammed her fist into the mirror. It didn't break, but a small crack spread across it like a scar.
Eliane and Annelise stood before Matteo's room, nervous energy twisting in their stomachs. They knocked.
"Enter," came the cold voice.
The door opened slowly. The room stretched wide like a throne chamber. At the far end, Matteo stood beside a tall bookshelf.
"Follow me," he said.
Without waiting, he pulled on a book. The shelf groaned and slowly slid open, revealing a passage. The women exchanged a look.
They walked through.
Behind the wall was a bar....a room so beautiful it felt like mockery. The lights were dimmed to gold, the floor a smooth black marble. Everything whispered luxury.
But their faces hardened.
Because they had been here before...not in location, but in meaning. The bar wasn't a place. It was a threat, a trap, a game played in shadows.
Matteo leaned against the counter, sipping wine.
"I thought you should see something."
He turned on a screen.
A video played. Noemie. Her tears. Her voice shaking. The principal's cold smile. The contract.
Annelise and Eliane stared.
Eliane's hand slowly reached for Annelise's.
Matteo turned to them. "You understand now, don't you? There's no mercy here. The others will join you soon."
They lowered their heads. Eliane whispered, "There's nothing we can do."
"There never was," Matteo said, smiling.
He pressed a button beneath the bar. A mechanical sound rumbled.
A door slid open.
Inside the small room, a rope dangled from the ceiling. A cold draft brushed past their skin.
They stared at it, breath catching. Not in fear of death....but of what it represented.
Not punishment.
Submission.
Matteo sipped his wine again.
"Welcome to the part of life where even hope has a price."
And the door shut behind them.