Chapter Forty-One - Cindy
Mirrors. The room is circular and the walls are lined with mirrors, so that when I look at them, I see nothing but an infinite reflection of me, sitting at this table, with Nolan’s crazy sister, Claudette Delaney.
“We call them infinity rooms,” she says.
“You have more than one?” I ask, trying not to get lost in the reflections. It’s like black magic, right? The only true representation of infinity in real life.
“Oh, yes. I’m going to destroy this resort when we leave here, Cynthia. Every outside recruit is honored with an infinity room that is only used once. After all, it isn’t often we pluck a girl from obscurity and deliver her infinite possibilities. It’s very special. Not meant for the masses.”
“Why me?” I ask, swallowing hard, my mouth dry again. I want another drink, but I finished the glass of water I was offered and there isn’t anything left but ice.
“Because your sister declined, sweet thing. And we really, really wanted her. We’ve evaluated your other sisters over the years. Jasmine is what, a tattoo artist, like your mother? Hmmph,” Claudette says, clearly unimpressed.
“She’s damn good at it.”
“She’s not worthy, Cynthia. And Belle takes after your father.”
“She’s an accountant,” I say, getting more and more pissed off as this fucking witch of a woman evaluates my family. “She runs my father’s entire empire.”
“And Ariel never even finished college.” Claudette pauses, to see what I have to say about Ariel. But I know better than to tell anyone anything about that sister. “No comment?”
I stay silent.
“Aurora was the perfect candidate. Star student at Princeton, beautiful, almost as beautiful as you. And in love with a man we dearly wanted to recruit.”
“Five,” I say, before I can stop myself.
“Five,” she repeats. “But you, dear, are about to deliver a man we have wanted since his mother betrayed us thirty-one years ago.”
Pax. I take a deep, measured breath, my whole body shaking as I let it out. “You killed my sister.”
“She killed herself.” And then Claudette lifts the little silver lid off the tiny platter sitting in the center of the table and reveals a single white wafer. Like the kind you’d find in a Catholic mass.
I look at Claudette. “What is that?”
“That’s one of your choices. You can eat it, take the path your sister took many years ago and be left in this room as it goes up in flames. Or you can drink the champagne and leave here with me.”
I stare at the bottle of champagne. Then the wafer.
“You give us something—”
“Like what?”
“Little things. We set up meetings. We deliver you contracts. You sign them, of course. It’s just business. We help you rise to the top and you help us stay at the top.”
“So I basically give you my life either way. If I join you, I do your bidding and then you control me like a puppet. And if I say no, you kill me.”
“When you put it that way, it’s such an easy choice. Isn’t it, Cynthia?”
“Stop calling me that,” I say, anger pouring out of me. I hate her. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. I’m going to kill you, I think in my head. I’m going to kill you very slowly.
“Shall I pop the cork?” Claudette asks. “Or should I allow you the opportunity to eat that wafer and die painlessly after I ignite the room?”
I hesitate and while I do that, Claudette takes out her phone and tabs an icon.
Beneath the mirrored wall panel directly in front of me, flames erupt. Then another eruption, and another, and another. Until the whole room is nothing but an infinite circle of flames.
“Time’s up, princess. I need an answer. Right now.”
The room is already filling with smoke. Smoke my lungs, damaged from whatever that drug was, can’t handle. I stand up and try to scoot the chair back before I realize I’m chained. There are shackles around my ankles and I’m chained to the chair. “I’ll join,” I choke out through my wheezing, desperate to breathe. “I’ll join. Just get me out of here!”
Just as the words come out of my mouth, an alarm sounds. Claudette’s eyes go wide, then relax. Her hand comes up from under the table, a gun in her grip. She points it at my head and says, “Perfect. We’ll continue our celebration in the car.” She tosses me a key with her other hand. “Unchain yourself.”
I scramble for the key and bend over, thankful for the fresher air that is still hovering low to the ground as the room quickly fills up with smoke.
One foot shackle is open. Then both.
When I’m free, I place a hand over my mouth and try to hold my breath. When I look at Claudette, she has an oxygen mask over her face.
“Come with me,” she says in a tinny voice coming through the filter on her mask. “And bring the champagne with you.”
I get up, still wobbly, and weak. My head is spinning and I have to take a moment for it to stop. I grab the neck of the bottle and stumble forward into the thick smoke.
“Go,” Claudette says, coming around behind me, gun pointed at my head, and pushing me on the back.
“Go where?”
But one section of flames disappears and the same section of mirror slides down into the floor, revealing a dark hallway.
I take a step, slowly, carefully. We walk forward and when the darkness surrounds me, the opening closes at my back.