Evelyn and Lydia glowered at me before shooting daggers at each other with whatever secrets they shared.

A wash of cold sweat coated my back.

Whatever was in this blasted estate might be bad, but these girls were probably worse.

I didn’t want to be here, yet they acted as if I’d come to steal their thunder. And if they were happy to threaten my life in plain view, then...what the hell would happen once we were inside?

“It’s come to the unhappy part of the day where I have to bid you farewell, ladies.” Marcus slouched dramatically as he grinned at the unchosen. “Ember Health thanks you all for your time and we hope you enjoy your evening at the Waldorf. Your gift bags will be delivered to your rooms once you’ve checked in.”

A few women raised their hands to ask questions, but Marcus pretended he didn’t notice. “Thank you again and have a pleasant afternoon.” Turning off the microphone, he placed it on the trestle table, snapped his fingers at the men, and marched toward the gatehouse.

With the quietest groan of iron-fortified wood, the double doors opened, swinging wide and offering a glimpse of yet another immaculate gravel driveway meandering around cone-shaped trees leading toward a speck in the distance. The barely-visible estate wobbled like a mirage in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Please follow us.” Four men surrounded the group of thirty women, while the other staff helped guide the reluctant losers back to the buses.

In the shuffle of feet and frustrated whispers, I spied my opportunity.

Ducking into the mass moving toward freedom, I kept my head down and—

“Miss Snowden.” The man who’d taken my factsheet form stepped in front of me. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh, I...” I floundered, my headache pounding, pounding. “I...eh, I lost something.” I narrowed my eyes on the grass, hoping my acting skills had improved since the last time I’d tried to lie. “I might have left it on the bus—”

He crossed his arms, his tone patient but his eyes shrewd. “If you tell me what you’ve lost, I can call the coach company and see if they’ve found anything.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” My vision went a little grey at the edges.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you freaking dare.

Swallowing hard, I shoved back the stress and tried to inch around him. “Thanks, though.”

He chuckled as I rejoined the herd marching toward the splashing peacock fountain. He let me think I might stand a chance as my flip-flops crunched on the gravel driveway and the glint of sunlight off the bus windscreens sent my heart racing with hope.

But then, he cut in front of me again.

His overly white teeth flashed as he grinned. “You’re still going in the wrong direction. Please...allow me to guide you into Cinderkeep.” He reached for my elbow.

I scrambled back so fast, I almost fell over.

My eyes skimmed a few of the women all climbing sadly into the buses. What would I give to trade with them? Did that make me a horrible person that I would put their life in danger just so I could get out of here?

Probably did. But I’d already come to terms with who I was.

I was a self-confessed slacker. I had a gold star in doing the bare minimum, a diploma in laziness, and a lifetime achievement award in procrastination.

And all of those skills doomed me to hell as the man nudged me toward the gatehouse, not touching me, but giving clear signals that he’d happily toss me over his shoulder if I tried to run again.

I racked my throbbing brain for a solution.

If only I went to the gym and was good at cardio. If only I’d trained to fight and had a wicked right hook. If only I’d stayed in that smoky, gloomy pub and hadn’t been greedy.

Sighing heavily, I shuffled to join the eager women who’d already passed through the double doors of the gatehouse and were boarding a different kind of vehicle. A line-up of matte black, window-tinted Mercedes-Benz G-Wagons were the chariots of choice, swallowing up four women at a time before pulling away with the purr of obscene wealth.

Each of those could buy a small house, yet whoever owned this estate had twelve of them.

Evelyn and Lydia pursed their lips as I noticed them heading toward a boxy-looking wagon with two other girls. Lydia whispered something to Evelyn. Evelyn laughed. And just as Lydia climbed into the front seat, she dragged her finger along her throat and pointed at me.

One of the men placed his hand on my lower back, pushing me forward.

My headache threatened to turn into a migraine as I closed my eyes and fought the urge to blackout. I hadn’t been this stressed in years. I existed to avoid all manner of panic. I didn’t even watch angsty TV shows or read books that weren’t just fluff because the chemistry of my body had been irreparably ruined thanks to that day.

They were lucky I didn’t vomit all over the pricey interior of the G-wagon they stuffed me into or burst their eardrums with a shrill scream as they slammed the door, pulled away, and drove me and three other women toward the palace shimmering in the sun.

* * * * *

“This is where we leave you,” Marcus said in his smarmy, suave voice.

We’d all been transplanted from one gatehouse to another. Unlike the other one with its ancient stone wall wriggling over the countryside like a giant snake—blocking the estate from nosy eyes—this one looked like a prison.

Not stamped with time or weathered by storms, the rock was scrubbed clean of any moss or debris while the top glittered with broken glass. Above the jagged shark-teeth glass shards, a single metal wire glinted like a garotte.

The falsehoods of a spa weekend were rapidly disintegrating under the truth.

Whatever this place was, whoever was imprisoned inside—it wasn’t a paradise of hot springs and massage rooms.

Finally, the other women started waking up. Some fidgeted. Some nudged each other. But most of them laughed and smirked as if they knew more than the rest of us.

“Once you’ve entered Cinderkeep, it’s up to you to choose where you’d like to stay. There are multiple pavilions dotted around the grounds and food will be delivered regularly. You’re welcome to use any of the facilities and we encourage you to enjoy yourselves.”

Clasping his hands in front of his suit, he smiled. “Each of you is uniquely qualified to enter and I wish you all good luck. Now...if you’re ready.” Sidestepping, he waved regally. “Please, go ahead.”

Another set of double doors swept open, these ones quiet and well-oiled. But thick. And fashioned from iron. With multiple locks to keep us in.

“Eh...but what about the spa treatments?” a tall woman asked quietly. “Isn’t there a schedule? Some sort of menu of what’s on offer?”

“You’ll find all of that in your pavilion.” Marcus grinned, his eyes flat and cold.

“I think I’ve changed my mind,” another dark-skinned, pretty woman said. “I’d like to go back to London, please.”

“Unfortunately, all transportation has ceased for the day,” Marcus said softly. “But rest assured, come Sunday evening, we’ll have you back there in a jiffy.”

A few women glanced at each other, fear blazing in their eyes.

And yet...those showing worry were so few. Maybe only five or six. The rest of the women balled their hands as if going to war, braced their spines, and marched with full purpose through the doors without a backward glance.

What the hell is going on?

The stragglers, including me, shared mirroring concern before looking over our shoulders for escape, only to be pushed through the door.

We all winced as it clanged shut and the twang of locks slammed home.

* * * * *

This place was too lavish to be real.

Tucked tight with the group of women as clueless as me, we inched our way into the grounds, our jaws on the floor at such decadence. Which was saying something as my family home wasn’t some two-bedroom apartment in a decrepit high-rise. I’d been born into a sprawling mansion with servants and nannies and not one swimming pool but three.