"Welcome home." Estella's voice sliced through the still air as she stood beside me, her breath hot against my neck. I shivered, a cold chill running down my spine.
The car passed through a towering gate, the sound of its heavy metal scraping against the ground filling the air. I turned, deliberately ignoring the ropes binding my arms and legs. This was it—the moment I was losing the last sliver of freedom I had once known. A quiet farewell to a life I could never return to.
We drove deeper into the compound, my eyes scanning the surroundings. The place looked more like a factory than a home. Machines of varying sizes dotted the entrance, their purpose unclear to me. No matter how long I stared, I couldn't figure out what they were doing. All I knew was the thick, suffocating air that seemed to cling to everything. It was a clear sign—this wasn't a place meant for humans to live.
As we passed the machines, the landscape shifted. We moved into an area filled with rows of decrepit buildings. They were arranged in a manner that resembled a small, gated community, but they were nothing like the pristine homes I'd once imagined. These buildings were neglected, covered in algae, their once-vibrant colors long since stripped away. Weeds sprouted from cracks in the ground, and dried graffiti decorated their decaying walls, further tarnishing their already filthy exteriors.
This wasn't just a rundown neighborhood—it was a ghost town.
The car drove deeper, revealing at least ten rows of identical buildings before stopping at the twenty-second one in the eleventh row. I was dragged out with force.
"Move your feet fast," Estella barked, tugging me along. I stumbled ahead of her, my hands bound tight behind me, and my body aching from the lack of circulation. I could feel the ropes cutting into my skin, my hands swelling slowly.
I reached the building's pavement and paused, waiting as Estella continued to push me forward. The building in front of me was in the worst condition yet, the structure barely standing.
Estella dropped a black duffel bag at my feet. It spilled open, revealing my belongings—clothes haphazardly thrown together, my parents' letters sticking out from the tangled mess. I fell to my knees, frantically stuffing the contents back into the bag, my heart racing.
"I'm sorry, Ma Estella," I mumbled, lowering my head. Survival was the only thing that mattered now.
"Good," Estella replied coldly, her voice dripping with mock approval. "Now, start walking."
She forced me forward again, the tightness of the ropes making every step painful. My arms ached from the restriction, but I walked until I reached the building's front door.
Before me, a glass door reflected the shadows of five girls inside. They were staring, watching me with cold, calculating eyes. The air was thick with tension, and I refused to look away, holding their gaze.
"I'll just Make sure she gets introduced to the girls and the space before she starts tomorrow," Estella's voice shifted my attention. "Is that alright?" she asked, turning toward the driver.
"Yes, Estella. That's what the boss wants," came Enrique's voice. I didn't need to see his face—I'd never forget a voice like that.
Estella giggled softly, walking away. "I'll be right back… don't wait too long for me," she called out, the hint of something strange in her voice. Were they... involved?
"Enter. They're waiting for you." Estella's voice grew harsher as she struck my back, sending a sharp pain through me. I bit back a grimace.
I reached for the door handle and turned it, the creaking sound echoing through the silence. Inside, the air was musty, and the harsh eyes of the girls pinned me down as I walked in.
I entered a large makeshift living room, the space chaotic and cramped. A long sofa, half-occupied by a group of women, was positioned against the peeling walls. Broken glass and metal scattered across the windows, leaving the room exposed to the elements. The girls, about twenty in total, looked rough—worn down by a life I couldn't yet fully comprehend. Their clothes were torn and their faces hardened, much like my own. But somehow, they seemed to have suffered longer than I had.
The group stared at me, but there was one who remained silent, standing off to the side. She looked older than the others, perhaps in her late twenties. While the younger girls watched me with fear and curiosity, she simply observed. Her gaze was intense, even curious, and when our eyes met, she smirked.
I felt an unexpected pull towards her, a strange connection, though I couldn't yet place it.
Estella's voice broke my focus. "This is Valeria Ardetti, the new recruit to Z26. Another troublemaker," she said with a mocking laugh, but the atmosphere remained heavy and unresponsive.
No one laughed.
"I'll let you girls get acquainted. You report for work tomorrow. Orders from Pedro," Estella added, her voice lacking the usual authority. She seemed almost eager to leave, as if she couldn't stand the tension in the air.
"Be early for work tomorrow," Estella added before calling out one last name. "Olga!"
The same woman—Olga—pushed herself off the wall and stepped forward. She walked with confidence, an unsettling calmness about her.
"Yes, Ma'am," Olga responded, her voice cool and controlled.
Estella nodded, then walked out, leaving me standing in the center of the room. The girls closed in around me, and for a moment, I felt the weight of their stares.
"We've heard a lot about you," Olga said, her voice tinged with amusement. She was the first to step closer, the rest of the girls falling back in line.
I only sighed in response, my thoughts racing. Observation was key. The room's dynamics were clear—there was a hierarchy, one I had no intention of joining, but I couldn't help but wonder if I had just been thrown into something far deeper than I had imagined.
"The second girl to escape the Mafia, but the first ever to kill one of them and survive." Olga clapped, spinning around to face the others. "You're a legend in the making!"
I sighed again. "And here I am…" My hands were on fire from the ropes digging into my skin. What good was it to be daring if I still remained, a prisoner.
"So, are you then the first to make a lasting impression? Is that how it works around here?"
Olga smiled and turned back to me. "In the flesh. But I could never do what you did. You're one of a kind."
Her words carried a weight, but I could sense something deeper—there was more to her story than just a simple admittance of admiration.
"Olga, it doesn't look good for your minions if you praise me too much…" I took a step closer to her, my voice low. "They might think you have a better replacement."
The room fell into tense silence.