Luckily, my name would not link me back to Snowflake Corp.
My parents had done that deliberately, ensuring every share and asset was under a pseudonym...Elara Snowflake. I cringed every time I had to use it.
“Thanks for that condescending remark. Have a good day.” Brushing past him, I eyed up the coach bus. I wouldn’t get frustrated over the turn of events, because any day I was alive was a good day, but I had to admit, my spidey senses definitely wanted to leave. Immediately.
He didn’t follow me, but my skin crawled as he never looked away.
He watched me walk over the manicured lawn, the soft voices of the women fading behind me.
Glancing at him over my shoulder, he smiled as our eyes met.
The peacock fountain splashed, urging me to move faster, and I didn’t see the tiny chrome nozzles rising from the grass like snake heads. The sprinklers kicked on in a perfect arch. Water blasted my face in a blinding sheet just as my ancient flip-flops caught one of the nozzles.
I fell.
Off the curb. Onto the gravel driveway.
Throwing out my hands to catch myself, I gasped as the sharp pebbles tore into my palms. Pain zinged hot, then stinging warmth oozed out—bright red blood and glistening.
Great.
“Here. Let me help.” The man crouched beside me, pressing a white handkerchief against my wound too firmly—deliberately deep.
We both knew what he was doing.
We both knew he’d won; that he’d turned on the sprinklers and caused me to fall.
But there was nothing I could do about it, and as my blood seeped through the pristine linen, I tried to yank my hand back, only for him to dig his fingers deeper into my flesh.
We fought our silent war until he’d soaked up enough for whatever tests they were running. Finally, his smirk turned sickly sweet, and he cupped my elbows to help me stand.
Even if I kicked up a fuss, no one would care. No one would understand how a kind gesture like taking care of me felt as dangerous as a knife to my throat.
“There now.” He smiled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Before I could curse him, another man arrived. “You summoned me, Mr. Ward?”
“Take this.” Not even bothering to look at him, the man passed the bloody handkerchief to him.
“Yes, sir.” The man bowed a little, snatched up the crimson-stained linen, and left us alone.
I shivered as my headache grew worse. “What exactly is this place? Who are you?”
Not bothering to hide himself anymore, the polished professional mask was traded for the gleam of a monster. “If you’re one of the lucky ones, you’ll find out.” He reached to cup my cheek, but I back-pedalled with a snarl.
He merely chuckled. “And my name is Marcus Ward. You’d do well to remember it. Now, excuse me. It’s almost time to tell the lucky women who won. See you soon, Ms. Snowden.”
He turned to leave, but then changed his mind and whispered, “Also, if you have any ideas of running, allow me to remind you of the ten kilometres of driveway you travelled to get to this gatehouse. Let me also remind you of the eight thousand acres that make up this estate, and the fact that if I don’t want you to leave, you won’t.”
And then, he did exactly what I wanted to do.
And left.
Chapter Three
“WE ALL NEED TO GO. RIGHT NOW,” I whispered into the ear of the closest blonde. About my age, she smelled as if she’d drowned herself in vanilla-laced strawberries. “Help me alert the rest, and we’ll use sheer numbers to get out of here.” I scanned the men congregating by the gatehouse after successfully testing every woman here.
Only ten of them. One hundred of us. The math worked in our favour if I could convince everyone to run.
“But why?” Her button nose wrinkled. “Why do we need to go?”
“They’re up to something.”
“Up to something?” Her faint concern bled into scorn. “Yeah, alright. So what you’re really saying is you’re trying to thin the crowd by removing at least enough of us so you’re one of the thirty who get the free spa weekend?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “I’d be driving myself back to London by now if I could steal the bus keys.”
“You’re so weird.” Rolling her eyes, she went to move away, but I grabbed her wrist.
“Listen to me. Something is off about all of this. We need to go.”
“The only thing that’s off is you.” Wrenching out of my grasp, she weaved through the crowd and vanished.
Ugh.
My headache pressed a little worse, and I did my best not to let stress get the better of me. I couldn’t afford to have vasovagal syncope—also known as a stress blackout that I’d apparently inherited ever since that fateful day when my parents accidentally killed themselves in the most horrific way possible.
“I just overheard what you said.” A willowy Asian girl with hair as black as mine sidled up to me. Keeping her gaze on the men in front, she whispered, “What makes you think something is wrong?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see if she’d come to laugh at me or was genuine. Either way, it didn’t matter. “When I refused to give my blood, the man in charge figured out a way to take it anyway.”
“Why would he do that?” Another girl appeared, honey-brown hair with yellow highlights glinting like gold in the sun. “This is a spa retreat. Not some crazy conspiracy.”
“I don’t know why.” I shrugged, sandwiched between the two women. “But I do know we shouldn’t go in there. No one should go in there.”
“But what if we know what’s in there and don’t appreciate you ruining it for the rest of us?” The stunning black-haired girl suddenly turned to face me, trapping me against the other one. Leaning far too close, her lips grazed my ear. “What if most of us know exactly what we’re doing and the rest of you clueless idiots are just here to make up numbers?”
“What...what are you talking about?” I scrambled away, rubbing my arms as goosebumps erupted. “You actually know what all of this is?”
“Of course we do.” The two girls shared a look before breaking into mocking laughter. “We’ve been training for years for this opportunity.”
“Training?”
They nodded smugly. “Like we said. We know what’s in there. Who’s in there. And we’re not about to let you rile up the crowd and ruin it.”
“Ladies!” Marcus Ward’s voice cut through the garden, amplified by his microphone. “I’m happy to announce that we’ve finished compiling the lucky thirty. If you’d be so kind to stand to the side when your name is called, we’ll have you in a hot tub with a cocktail before sunset!”
A cheer went up as the women nudged and grinned at each other.
“Serena Voss.”
“Yay!” A pretty auburn-haired, curvy girl dashed through the crowd to stand alone to the left.
“Keira Holt.”
“OMG!” Another curvy blonde ran to join Serena.
“Nadia Waters.”
“Ahhhh!”
The list went on and on, followed by squeals of joy and impromptu dancing.
Turning away from the spectacle, I focused on the two girls still hemming me in as if ready to silence me if I started making a scene.