My college roommates and I decided to go to Thailand for winter break. One of them, Mia, said her boyfriend, Leo, was a travel agent. He could hook us up with a "boutique" private tour. Easy and comfortable. We all thought it was a great idea. We were wrong. The second we got off the plane, a tour guide hustled us to a high-end luxury mall and told us to start shopping. He said if we didn't buy anything, he’d tear up our passports. Forced consumerism? Not a chance. I refused. And for that, the guide sold me to a boiler room. 1 I was dragged into a dark, windowless room. The guide pointed a fat finger in my face. "You don't want to spend money? Fine. You can stay here and make money. You hit your quota, you go home. You don't? You'll work here until you die." A few huge guys were standing around, cracking their knuckles. I noticed a logo on their shirts—a stylized mountain and sea. It looked so familiar... Wait. This was the insignia of the Aegis Group. Marcus Thorne's company. Marcus. The guy who had been completely obsessed with me, the guy I’d finally managed to dump. And I was right back in his territory. This was a wolf's den. This was a scam tour. That "boutique" package was a one-way ticket. "My friends," I demanded, "where are my roommates?" "Don't you worry about them. You just worry about yourself." "My roommate's boyfriend, Leo! He works for you! He's in on this, isn't he?" "Yeah, he is," the guide sneered. "Told us you were the 'rich one.' I haven't even gotten to him yet. What good is a rich friend who won't spend a dime?" He tossed a stack of papers at my feet. "You don't want to shop, you can learn to sell. Or rather, scam." A guy threw two binders at me. "Scripts and call lists. You follow the script, you make the calls. You make money, you get to eat." "This is a boiler room," I spat. "It's fraud. I won't do it." The man slapped me, so hard my ears rang. "You don't have a choice. You do it, or we make you do it." Another one kicked me in the stomach. I crumpled, gasping. "Okay, okay!" I scrambled back, clutching my side. "How much? How much do you want? I'll pay you. Just let me go." "Let you go? So you can run to the cops? No one walks out of here without paying, one way or another." As I clutched my stomach, my eyes fixed on that logo again. The Aegis Group. Marcus's family business, with fingers in every pie, legal and... not. The last I heard, he’d gone legitimate, but clearly, he'd lied. "You're Aegis Group," I said. The man smirked. "Smart girl. You recognize the brand." "Your boss," I bluffed, "Marcus Thorne. He's my fiancé. If he finds out what you're doing, you're all dead." They burst out laughing. "Our boss's fiancée? You? Don't make me laugh. We all know the boss is engaged to Ms. Arianna. Who the hell are you?" "I am Arianna!" One of them had my bag. He pulled out my passport. "It says right here... 'Ava.' Ava Reed. You're a liar." "That's my new name!" I protested. "Arianna is my old name! If you don't believe me, call him! Call Marcus!" "You really want to see the boss?" The main guy grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet. "In this place, 'disobedient' only gets you one thing." He dragged me to another, smaller room. He picked up an iron chain from the floor. "Let's see how tough you are." He whipped the chain across my back. I screamed. "I'm warning you!" I shrieked, tears and snot mixing with the blood from my split lip. "You will die for this! I want Marcus!" He hit me again. "Shut up! Shut up about the boss!" He beat me until I was a whimpering, broken mess on the concrete. I couldn't move. He crouched, grabbing my chin. "She's pretty, though. Wasting her on the phones. Let's send her to the VIP lounge. She can work the poker tables." "No," I whispered. "I'll do the calls. I'll work. Please..." The VIP lounge. That sounded a thousand times worse. "It's not your choice anymore." He snapped his fingers. "Get her cleaned up." They hauled me to my feet. As they dragged me out, I heard a familiar, terrified whimper from another room. "Leo, please... I don't... I don't know..." "Mia!" I screamed. "Is that you, Mia?" "You brought my friends here? You sold her out, too? Even when her boyfriend is one of you?" If Mia was here, we were all doomed. She was my only hope of getting the police. They ignored me, just kept dragging. Suddenly, a voice shouted from the main floor. "He's here! The boss is on his way up! Clean this place up, now!" The men holding me panicked. "We can't take her out there. He'll see her. Take her back to the cell. We'll deal with her after he's gone." The boss. Marcus. This was my only chance. I bit down, hard, on the arm of the man holding me. He yelled, and as he let go, I kicked the other one as hard as I could between the legs. I scrambled and ran. I saw it. A long, black Lincoln, pulling up to the building. It was him. "Marcus!" My scream was cut off. A hand clamped over my mouth from behind, dragging me back into the shadows. "You bitch! You can still run? Guess we didn't hit you hard enough!" I jammed my fingernails into his hand. He grunted, and I bit his arm. "You're dead!" he roared. He grabbed a heavy glass ashtray from a nearby desk and brought it down on my head. My world exploded, then went dark. ... When I came to, I was blind. My eyes were caked shut with dried blood. I was back in the small, dark room. It was quiet. They must have all gone to meet Marcus. I crawled to the door, pounding on it with what little strength I had. "Help! Marcus! Help me!" I heard his voice. That voice I hadn't heard in three years. "What's that noise?" "Just... just one of the company 'dogs,' sir. Got a bit rowdy. We locked it up so it wouldn't bother you." The door flew open. A boot connected with my chest. "I told you to shut up!" The guard grabbed my jaw, pried my mouth open, and poured scorching hot water down my throat. My vocal cords, my entire esophagus, felt like they were on fire. I couldn't scream. I could only make a horrible, gurgling sound. Tears streamed down, carving clean paths through the grime and blood. I curled into a ball, shaking. The man saw I was "tamed" and turned to leave. I saw my chance. I grabbed the iron chain from the floor. I lunged, wrapping it around his neck and pulling. He choked, falling backward. I scrambled over him and ran out the door. I tried to scream, but only a wet, rasping noise came out. He couldn't hear me. I saw a vase on a table. I grabbed it and hurled it to the floor. It shattered. Marcus, surrounded by men in black suits, stopped. He turned. The man I'd choked was already up, staggering out of the room. "The bitch is out! Grab her!" Before I could take another step, a burlap sack was thrown over my head. I was so close. "You're dead, you hear me? Dead!" Fists and feet rained down on me. I felt the metallic taste of blood fill my mouth, soaking the inside of the sack. "Who are you hitting?" The voice was cold. It was Marcus. "Boss! This... this is a spy. From a rival. We caught her stealing data." "Just... don't kill her." I'm not a spy! I'm Ari! I tried to speak, but I just choked on blood. "She's a mute, too? Disgusting. Get her out of my sight." I was being dragged away again. One of the men stepped on my hand, grinding his heel into my knuckles. "If I didn't need these hands for the poker tables, I'd break every bone in them." As I was losing consciousness, I heard a woman's voice. A voice I knew. "You did this to her? She looks half-dead." I froze. It couldn't be. "She was disobedient, ma'am. Wouldn't do the calls, wouldn't go to the lounge. Kept screaming she was the boss's fiancée." A foot kicked me in the ribs. "You? His fiancée? In your dreams." "Is she... dead?" "No. Still breathing." "Good. Don't kill her. It's better this way. Let the little princess work here until she rots." Footsteps. "Everyone, back to the conference room! The boss has questions!" They all left. I was blind, mute, but I could hear. I heard Marcus's voice, cold and sharp. "This passport. Where did it come from?" My heart leaped. He'd found it. "I... I found it on the floor, boss. By the door. Just... picked it up." "You 'found' it? Are you sure? Lying to me... has consequences." "I... yes, I found it." "I want to see the person who belongs to this. Do you know where she is?" "No, boss! She... she probably just dropped it. A tourist, maybe." A long, tense silence. "The woman you were beating in the hall," Marcus said. "The 'spy.' Where is she?" "She's... in the storage closet, boss." Footsteps. Coming closer. "Boss, she's... she's filth. Not worth your time..."
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