As they sat at the table, the other girls whispered about the events of the night before. Aurora’s face burned with shame, but she held her head high. If they knew she had been spared, they might see her as weak, and she didn’t want that. She had to keep her guard up, had to be strong for Luna.
Miss Catherine’s voice cut through the murmurs like a knife. “You two,” she said, pointing at Aurora and Luna. “You will serve the guests tonight.”
Aurora’s stomach dropped, the food on her plate suddenly unappealing. She knew what this meant-another night of degradation and fear, serving as eye candy for the monsters who frequented the mansion. But she also knew that this was her chance to observe, to learn, and maybe, just maybe, to find a way out.
Miss Catherine’s warning was clear: she and Luna would be under scrutiny. Damian had important guests coming, and the last thing he would tolerate was a scene. Aurora’s mind raced with possibilities-what could she do to make sure she didn’t ‘mess up’ like she had last night? How could she ensure Luna’s safety while maintaining her own dignity?
Throughout the day, Aurora and Luna were subjected to rigorous training. Miss Catherine drilled into them the importance of serving the guests without fail, of keeping their mouths shut and their bodies available. The very thought of enduring another night like the last made Aurora’s skin crawl, but she knew that she had to play the part. For Luna’s sake, she had to be strong.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the mansion’s atmosphere grew heavier with anticipation. Aurora and Luna were dressed in the skimpiest outfits they had ever worn, their modesty stripped away along with their dignity. The fabric clung to their bodies, leaving little to the imagination and serving as a constant reminder of their status as property.
The guests began to arrive, a cacophony of laughter and lecherous looks filling the air. Aurora’s heart raced as she served drinks and food, her eyes darting around the room for any sign of Damian. She knew that he was watching, waiting for his moment to claim her. The thought made her stomach churn, but she forced a smile onto her face, playing the role of the obedient servant.
Then, the last guest arrived. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the man her mother had been whispering to on the phone-the one who had paid for her to be sent to this hell. She watched in horror as her mother, dressed in a gown that was far too young and revealing for her age, sailed into the room on his arm, her eyes shimmering with excitement and greed.
“Mom?” Aurora’s voice was a tremulous whisper, barely audible over the din of the party. The room seemed to tilt as the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Her mother didn’t even look at her, didn’t acknowledge her existence. Instead, she giggled coquettishly at something the man said, her hand resting possessively on his chest.
The guests’ eyes followed Aurora as she stumbled away from her mother, their gazes a mix of pity and amusement. She felt the heat of humiliation spread over her face like wildfire, consuming her from the inside out. She couldn’t believe the woman who had given birth to her could be so cold, so heartless. It was as if Aurora was invisible, a ghost in a room full of vultures.
Her legs trembled as she ran back to the safety of her shared room, the click of her heels a frantic staccato on the marble floor. Luna chased after her, calling out her name, but Aurora was deaf to her voice. She needed to be alone, to process the betrayal that washed over her in waves.
Once inside, she slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the bed, her sobs echoing through the opulent space. Luna followed her, wrapping her arms around Aurora’s shaking shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her own eyes filled with tears. “I had no idea.”
Aurora pulled away, her gaze searching Luna’s face for any hint of understanding. “How could she?” she choked out. “How could she sell me like this?” The pain in her voice was raw, a stark contrast to the cold, unfeeling world outside their door.
“Some people,” Luna said softly, her voice tinged with the bitterness of experience, “just don’t care.” She stroked Aurora’s hair, trying to soothe the storm of emotions raging within her. “You’re not to her what you are to me, Aurora. To her, you’re just a commodity, a way to get what she wants.”
Aurora’s sobs grew quieter, but the tremors in her body didn’t subside. She had always known her mother didn’t love her, but to see her act so callously, so completely devoid of maternal instinct, was like a knife twisting in her heart. “But why?” she whispered. “Why would she do this to me?”