The Phantom's Princess.

Ch. 2

"My room?" she asked and took another glance around the room.

"Yep, and everything in it is yours."

That didn't fill her with any joy or excitement as she was sure it was supposed to. Nobody gave anything for free, there was always a payment.

"How am I supposed to pay you back for this?" she asked plainly, subconsciously holding her breath as she anticipated the answer.

Geoffrey laughed at that and then walked up and ruffled her head gently, at which she pulled away as quickly as she could.

"I know what Thomas just said, but I'm pretty sure the boss doesn't expect you to pay him back."

Alexis' heart sank at his words. The last person who had offered her something for nothing had promised the same thing, but they had only been words.

Feigning interest in the contents of the closet, Alexis walked over to it with the sole intention of putting some distance between herself and the two men. Casually, her eyes scanned the windows, checking for where the locks and handles were located.

We'd ascended two flights of stairs to get to the room, she remembered that much, it would be possible for me to get back down if I could only open a ...

"You can't escape if that's what you're looking for," Ren said, jolting her from her thoughts. "As Thomas said, you're here to stay."

Ren was already behind Alexis at that point, and reached out to pat her on the head - a gesture she feared was almost too natural for them and seemed to be one they would practice as a habit. She pulled her head away and gave a small dissatisfied groan, which, if anything, humoured both Ren and Geoffrey, who gave a light chuckle.

"She's pretty adorable, isn't she?" Geoffrey said which earned another groan from Alexis and, in turn, another chuckle from Geoffrey.

"I promise no one is going to hurt you here," Ren said, his voice a lot less playful than Geoffrey's, but friendly all the same. "Our boss may not be the kindest of men, but he doesn't tolerate harming women or children."

"Who's your boss?" Alexis asked.

She'd never heard of a man called Vincent, not that her father spoke about his friends unless he was trying to arrange some kind of deal between her and one of them. For this same reason, she hadn't cared much for her father's acquaintances and mostly kept well away whenever they were around until she finally left his house altogether. Although, in hindsight, living on the streets was a lot more challenging.

"You'll meet him soon," Ren replied. "Right now, you need to get cleaned up, Thomas said. We'll wait out here," he said and pointed to a door that she assumed led to a bathroom. "You'll find a dress hanging in there."

Alexis nodded and continued into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and then stopping in front of the dress he had mentioned. It was a pink pastel dress delicately adorned with jewels along the neckline and had a similarly jewelled waistband and ribbon that flowed loosely at the back.

Can't I just wear normal clothes? she wondered, unable to dampen the nerves that were running through her.

It had been a long time since she'd dressed up. Her mother had been around in those days. She'd open her cupboard door and tell Alexis to put on anything she wanted, then she'd do a faux-professional makeover on her. A wistful smile fixed itself on Alexis' lips as she remembered the dress-ups they'd do together and the games they'd play.

But, again, that was then.

Taking her time in the bathroom, which was way more luxurious than any she'd ever been in, she dressed and combed her hair, which was soft and easy to manage despite its thickness, and then she stood momentarily, watching herself in the mirror.

It was clear that she didn't eat well; her face was slightly sunken, and her eyes deeper set and darker than her naturally dark skin, which looked paler than it should. She did still look every bit of the twelve-year-old that she was, albeit slightly more worldly, and not in a good way.

She picked up her golden necklace and took a long look at the pendant that hung from it. It was identical to the one her mother had always worn and had been given to her on her ninth birthday, perhaps by an uncle, she never could remember who it was, but as it was similar to her mother's she had cherished it always.

I miss you, Mommy, she whispered before reclasping it around her neck and tucking it under her dress.

Time had passed as she lingered in the bathroom, and the realisation that the so-called Vincent would soon arrive grew stronger.

What do I do? she wondered.

Her hope that there might have been a window that she could escape from was squashed as soon as she entered. It seemed they had already anticipated that idea, and the window was sturdily barred.

In a last attempt at anything that could be considered an effort to escape, she opened the cabinet above the sink and rummaged through, not sure what she was hoping to find, but happy when the small vanity mirror fell from the cabinet and hit the sink with a soft, 'crack'.

That will do, she told herself. Not that she believed she could do much in a house full of clearly dangerous men, but she knew she would for sure try - anything to avoid the same fate that she had fallen into on that night.

She wrapped the edge of the broken mirror piece and then secured it under the edge of her crop top, which was safely concealed under the medium-heavy fabric of the dress.

It was slightly uncomfortable but necessary, and just in time as the bathroom door knocked and Geoffery's voice came from the other side, "Hurry up Princess, he's here."