Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“It’s a shame you think testing someone’s blood is as simple as gathering a phone number.” I braced my spine as the throbbing at the base of my skull got worse.
“Isn’t it, though?” He cocked his head. “How are we any different from those who saliva swab or use biometrics to understand their target market?”
“You can do whatever you want.” I shrugged. “But to me, DNA is a full instruction manual. It’s not protected by any law, which means the moment I give it to you, you can patent it, profit from it, hell, even weaponise it.”
His eyebrows shot up, his suave mask slipping just a little. “Who are you?” Dropping his eyes to the tablet in his hand, he tapped a few windows before somehow finding the factsheet I’d stupidly filled in. “Name, Rook Snowden. Profession, unstated. Age, twenty-two.” His gaze shot to mine. “So young, yet so clued up on things that would bore most young women.”
Luckily, my name would not link me back to Snowflake Corp.
My parents had done that deliberately, ensuring every share and asset was under a pseudonym...Elara Snowflake. I cringed every time I had to use it.
“Thanks for that condescending remark. Have a good day.” Brushing past him, I eyed up the coach bus. I wouldn’t get frustrated over the turn of events, because any day I was alive was a good day, but I had to admit, my spidey senses definitely wanted to leave. Immediately.
He didn’t follow me, but my skin crawled as he never looked away.
He watched me walk over the manicured lawn, the soft voices of the women fading behind me.
Glancing at him over my shoulder, he smiled as our eyes met.
The peacock fountain splashed, urging me to move faster, and I didn’t see the tiny chrome nozzles rising from the grass like snake heads. The sprinklers kicked on in a perfect arch. Water blasted my face in a blinding sheet just as my ancient flip-flops caught one of the nozzles.
I fell.
Off the curb. Onto the gravel driveway.
Throwing out my hands to catch myself, I gasped as the sharp pebbles tore into my palms. Pain zinged hot, then stinging warmth oozed out—bright red blood and glistening.
Great.
“Here. Let me help.” The man crouched beside me, pressing a white handkerchief against my wound too firmly—deliberately deep.
We both knew what he was doing.
We both knew he’d won; that he’d turned on the sprinklers and caused me to fall.
But there was nothing I could do about it, and as my blood seeped through the pristine linen, I tried to yank my hand back, only for him to dig his fingers deeper into my flesh.
We fought our silent war until he’d soaked up enough for whatever tests they were running. Finally, his smirk turned sickly sweet, and he cupped my elbows to help me stand.
Even if I kicked up a fuss, no one would care. No one would understand how a kind gesture like taking care of me felt as dangerous as a knife to my throat.
“There now.” He smiled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Before I could curse him, another man arrived. “You summoned me, Mr. Ward?”
“Take this.” Not even bothering to look at him, the man passed the bloody handkerchief to him.
“Yes, sir.” The man bowed a little, snatched up the crimson-stained linen, and left us alone.
I shivered as my headache grew worse. “What exactly is this place? Who are you?”
Not bothering to hide himself anymore, the polished professional mask was traded for the gleam of a monster. “If you’re one of the lucky ones, you’ll find out.” He reached to cup my cheek, but I back-pedalled with a snarl.
He merely chuckled. “And my name is Marcus Ward. You’d do well to remember it. Now, excuse me. It’s almost time to tell the lucky women who won. See you soon, Ms. Snowden.”
He turned to leave, but then changed his mind and whispered, “Also, if you have any ideas of running, allow me to remind you of the ten kilometres of driveway you travelled to get to this gatehouse. Let me also remind you of the eight thousand acres that make up this estate, and the fact that if I don’t want you to leave, you won’t.”
And then, he did exactly what I wanted to do.
And left.
Chapter Three
“WE ALL NEED TO GO. RIGHT NOW,” I whispered into the ear of the closest blonde. About my age, she smelled as if she’d drowned herself in vanilla-laced strawberries. “Help me alert the rest, and we’ll use sheer numbers to get out of here.” I scanned the men congregating by the gatehouse after successfully testing every woman here.
Only ten of them. One hundred of us. The math worked in our favour if I could convince everyone to run.
“But why?” Her button nose wrinkled. “Why do we need to go?”