Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

33. Willow

CHAPTER 33

WILLOW

TERESA – YUNGBLUD

The High Court is an impressive, gothic building in Central London, surrounded by bustling streets, tourists and hailing taxi cabs going about their busy lives.

Its Victorian design is made up of huge arched doorways and spiralling turrets, the slabs of smooth grey stone towering above me in an intimidating way.

Staring out through the window of the SUV, Zach’s grip on my hand tightens. There are dozens of camera vans parked up outside, and reporters are swarming everywhere.

“Shit.” Bile creeps up my throat.

Security officers hold them back at every opportunity, but they push and shove, desperate to catch a glimpse of the people participating in today’s high-profile trial. I’m terrified to step out of the car and into the limelight.

“Babe?” Worry bleeds from Zach’s tone.

“There’re so many of them.”

“I know, fucking vultures. We’ll make this bit fast.”

Ethan nods in agreement from the front seat. “In and out. No questions, no statements.”

Killian sits next to him, his lips pressed together in an unyielding line. This is his idea of hell on earth, and I don’t blame him this time around.

We travelled down to London last night, bringing Rachel, Aalia and Arianna with us. Arianna is back at the hotel with Rachel, none the wiser, while Aalia opted to come with us.

“Last chance to change your mind,” Killian offers.

I shake my head. “That’s not going to happen. I need to do this.”

“Just checking. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“You guys will stay with me?”

“We can’t come up on the stand with you.” Micah’s expression is tortured. “But we will be right there listening, every step of the way. If you get overwhelmed, just look at me.”

I squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Mi.”

“You’ve got this, angel.”

With a deep breath, I smooth my plain-black shift dress, the material pulled tight over my baby bump. This is the first time I will go public with my pregnancy. It’s making the guys extra stabby.

I know Mr Sanchez will be watching. He’ll see me and know that his control over me is well and truly done. I’m not sure what his reaction will be, but he made promises during that phone call.

I will bleed for him.

Well, that’s what he thinks.

Stepping out of the SUV, a roar of noise barrels over me followed by shouts of my name, cameras flashing and even some applause. The reporters and onlookers are going wild at the sight of me.

“Willow! Willow!”

Killian grabs my shoulder. “Keep moving.”

We’re quickly surrounded by security and Zach has to stop his cousin from releasing my shoulder to punch a particularly overzealous reporter, determined to get a close-up shot.

“Kill,” I beg.

“Fucking reporters,” he snarls.

“I know. Just keep walking.”

Feeling someone else’s hand slip into mine, Aalia gives me a reassuring smile. We’re escorted up the grand steps and into the building, far from the baying vampires determined to get a statement.

“You’re okay.” Aalia squeezes my hand. “We’re all here.”

Leaving Arianna with Rachel and Ethan’s men still leaves me feeling exposed. Even if she’s probably safer than where we are.

Inside the building, Killian lets go of my shoulder. We’re all searched and put through security machines to scan for weapons. We’re then given passes that hang around our necks on bright-yellow lanyards.

“Keep breathing,” Zach advises as he kisses my tied-back hair. “You’re doing great.”

“This place is so huge.”

“It’s the real deal here, babe. Only the biggest cases are taken to the High Court to be heard.”

“That doesn’t help, Zach.”

Rubbing a hand over my belly, he pauses to kiss my lips, despite our surroundings. I savour the brush of his mouth on mine, the warmth of his hand a balm to my frazzled nerves.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers in my ear.

“Always yours,” I murmur back.

Killian nods in agreement, picking up on our whispered conversation despite his cold mask of concentration. He looks like a soldier at war, determined to protect me at all costs.

In contrast, Micah’s anxiety is palpable. His shining nose ring twitches as he fidgets, nervously glancing around the tightly packed space. Not even our heavy security detail sets him at ease.

Ushered down a towering corridor lined with fine art and gold, gilded frames hang high above us as we’re taken to our seats in the courtroom. It’s another intimidatingly fine space.

The walls are made of dark wood panelling with sconces built in to light the dim space. The docks stand at the front of the room, facing a room full of red velvet chairs for the audience.

“You’re up first, Willow,” Ethan informs me.

“Great.”

“You’ll be called to the stand then asked to give an oath before giving your testimony. Mario’s lawyer will have the opportunity to cross-examine you after we’ve asked our questions.”

“That isn’t fucking fair,” Killian growls.

“I agree, but this is how proceedings work. There’s nothing we can do.”

“It’s fine.” I lay my palm on Killian’s chest. “I don’t mind.”

“Willow—”

“This is how it’s going to go, Kill. We’ve got to go along with it.”

Chastised, he sits down in his seat with a loud huff. Neither of the twins look particularly happy either, but they have the sense to remain silent, unlike their grumpy cousin.

Sitting down, I cradle my bump while waiting for the room to slowly fill up. Several other women enter, dressed in formal clothing, a couple offering me tiny, shy smiles in greeting.

When one enters wearing inappropriate jeans and a blouse, my heart leaps into my mouth. She never did give a shit. Lia takes one look at me, and her eyes well up, halting several metres away from me.

“Willow?”

I slowly stand up. “Lia. You’re here.”

The spell breaks, and we run to each other, sobbing and hugging in a tangle. It’s been over a decade since I last saw her in the club, showing me the ropes and doing her best to look after me.

“What… How?” I splutter. “I thought…”

Her smile is tight, pulling at the deep lines around her mouth and eyes. “Things changed after you left the club.”

She doesn’t elaborate. I don’t need her to. I can see it in her eyes—the pain and horror. Mario sold her, just like he sold me. Just like he sold us all, in one disgusting way or another.

“You’re here to testify?”

She nods. “I want to see that weasel get taken down, once and for all.”

Squeezing her arm, I pull her back into another hug. She laughs when she can’t get her arms around me properly because of my protruding bump caught in the middle of us.

“Jesus, girl. You were just a kid when I saw you last. Now you’re having a baby?”

“I have an eight-year-old at the hotel.”

Lia shakes her head, sending strands of bleached blonde hair flying. “Fuck, Willow.”

“Things change. It’s been a long time.”

“That it has.”

Kissing my cheek, she hugs me one last time before taking her seat next to another woman. Everyone’s eyes are on me. I’m sure they’ve seen recent news reports or read my story online.

What am I to them?

A martyr? Someone to pity?

Or someone to look up to?

“Who was that?” Zach asks.

Ethan answers before I can, looking down at his phone. “Lia Hartley. She volunteered to testify against Mario when he was arrested. She’s worked for him for the past decade, bouncing from club to club.”

“I used to work with her,” I admit. “She was assigned to show me the ropes, though that meant just offering me drugs to get through the shift in most cases.”

If I could, I’d smash my fist into Mario’s face over and over again for what he’s done. Instead, all I have are my words. I have to use them to take him down and ensure he can’t get back up again.

With the room now full, we’re all called to attention. The judge enters, dressed in finery and walking with his head held regally high as he takes his seat to preside over us all.

It’s the defendant’s turn to enter next. Taking both of the twins’ hands for comfort, I hold on tight as the side door swings open, and several armed guards enter, trapping someone between them.

This is it.

Dressed in an expensive black suit, Mario Luciano looks the same as he did eleven long years ago, from his silvery hair to his cold, dead eyes, stone-cold and emotionless.

The moment he spots me, a grin blooms on his lips. I have to let Micah go to rest a hand on Killian’s arm as Mario winks at me ever so slowly. I don’t want him getting arrested too.

Mario is placed behind a thick, glass screen in a box off to the side. His lawyers gather at one of the tables adjacent to Ethan, his bosses—Kade and Hudson—along with their legal counsel.

Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I spot Harlow across the room, subtly waving at me. She offers me a reassuring smile that warms my chest. I nod back, thankful she’s here.

Ethan’s lawyer stands up. “The prosecution calls our first witness, Willow Sanchez.”

Heart constricting painfully, I extricate myself from the guys, meeting each of their eyes before slipping down the aisle. My statement is clutched tight in my trembling hands.

After swearing an oath on the Bible, I take the witness stand. I’m situated to the left of the judge, overlooking the entire room and all of its occupants, their eyes all glued on me, making things even more terrifying.

“Mrs Sanchez?”

Ungluing my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I lean closer to the microphone. “Yes?”

“My name is Miss Javier, and I’m going to be asking you some questions today.”

“Okay.”

“Please, take your time. I appreciate this must be difficult for you.” Miss Javier gestures towards Mario in his pod. “Do you recognise the defendant?”

“Yes, I do. That’s Mario Luciano.”

“And how did you come to know the defendant?”

Smoothing out my statement, I suck in a stuttered breath. “At sixteen years old, I went to work in a strip club in Dagenham. The club was owned by Mario.”

“Sixteen is very young to be engaged in such work. Illegal, in fact.”

“My father had just passed away, and I was left with significant debt to be paid off. I had no other family that I was aware of and no choice but to work.”

Sweat beading on my forehead, I avoid looking at the guys. They know about my past, but it still stings to admit out loud how desperate I was back then. I hate for them to think of me like that.

“And how many shifts did you work for Mr Luciano?”

“Approximately three.”

“What did this role involve, exactly?”

I wring my hands together. “I was serving drinks, dancing, speaking to customers and giving lap dances. Other girls did more, though.”

“More?” she prompts.

“Sexually. I was still new and wasn’t asked to perform any sexual acts at the time, but I saw them going on. Women were sold to customers in exchange for money that went to Mario.”

“Interesting.” She steeples her fingers in front of her. “You witnessed these acts of prostitution firsthand?”

“Yes, many times.”

I try hard not to look at the jury, but I already saw the looks on their faces. My insides burn hot with shame. Their judgement hurts, even years later. Not many of us were there by choice.

“Tell me about the reason why you left the club.”

I glance down at my papers. “During my third shift, Mario introduced me to a man called Dimitri Sanchez. He referred to him as a dear friend and asked me to show him a good time.”

“And what did that entail?”

“Mr Sanchez took me to a back room that was reserved for sexual acts and locked the door. I was unable to escape.”

Miss Javier’s stare is sympathetic. “Tell me what happened next.”

“Mario had told Mr Sanchez that I was a virgin. Mr Sanchez wanted to check for himself.”

“I see. He wanted to check your virginity?”

Feeling sick to my stomach, I nod. “Mario had arranged for me to be sold to Mr Sanchez and assured him of the quality of his product. They had already discussed a pre-agreed price for me.”

“Tell me, did he… check?”

I swallow hard. “Thoroughly.”

Killian’s head is lowered, a muscle twitching in his cheek. Zach is staring at a spot on the wall, his Adam’s apple bobbing tellingly.

Only Micah holds my eye contact—strong and unwavering, ensuring I feel his support even from across the room.

“Mr Sanchez beat me and raped me that night. I was later drugged and transported to an aeroplane where he took me overseas, back to his home in Mexico.”

Lia’s cheeks are soaked with tears as she watches me from across the room. I can see her guilt, but she couldn’t protect me from those monsters. No one could.

“I was purchased by Mr Sanchez from Mario for the purpose of becoming his wife. I did not consent to this, nor was I given a choice. Because of Mario, I endured a decade of abuse and sexual violence.”

One woman on the jury has the strength to look at me, her face wet with tears. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks away, wiping off her cheeks. I look down at my papers.

“Mario Luciano is a cold-blooded monster, responsible for the sale and enslavement of countless women, underage and not. He doesn’t feel emotion, nor does he care about what he’s done.”

“Is there anything else you want the jury to know, Mrs Sanchez?”

I look over at the jury members, meeting each of their gazes, one by one. “He’s guilty as hell.”

Miss Javier nods. “Thank you.”

Taking her seat next to Ethan, my attention is drawn over to him. Ethan gives me a tiny thumbs up of approval, a poor excuse for a smile tugging at his lips and looking a little sick.

Moving my gaze to the back of the room, I look at Harlow next. She doesn’t look sick. Hell, she doesn’t even look fazed. Her reassuring smile hasn’t faded at all, and I’m glad.

Standing up from their table, Mario’s lawyer takes her place in front of the microphone. “Mrs Sanchez, my name is Mrs Teller. I’m going to be cross-examining you today.”

“Hello,” I say tightly.

Her smile is smug. “Let’s begin by asking this—did you or did you not willingly enter Mr Luciano’s employment?”

“Well, yes…”

“And did you or did you not willingly enter the room with Mr Sanchez? Were you dragged? Forced?”

“No, but I was scared?—”

“Scared?” she laughs. “Or ready to make some money, hmm?”

“That isn’t fair!”

“You’ve already told this jury that you worked for Mario to pay off your father’s debts. In that sense, was he not helping you? A scared, young girl in need of a father figure?”

“Father figure?” I scoff bitterly. “He fucking sold me!”

“Language, Mrs Sanchez,” the judge scolds.

Settling back in my seat, I take a second to cool off. The lawyer looks far too satisfied with the reaction she got out of me.

“Mr Luciano employed many troubled women in need of support.” She looks at the jury, wearing a plastered-on, fake smile. “He performed this vital community service out of the goodness of his heart.”

Killian looks ready to explode. When he finally meets my eyes, I stare at him, silently pleading for him to calm down. If he causes a scene, my entire testimony will be thrown into doubt.

“I was sold.” I scowl at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You went with Mr Sanchez of your own free will, didn’t you… Mrs Sanchez . All that money must have been very tempting for someone like you.”

“Mrs Teller,” the judge snaps. “That is inappropriate.”

“My apologies, your honour. I’m finished.”

Retaking her seat, she whispers to her colleagues, still wearing that smug-ass smile that I want to wipe from her face.

“You’re done, Mrs Sanchez,” the judge says in a much gentler tone.

Nodding, I gather my papers and return to my seat. There are low murmurings all around me as the next woman takes the stand, a few years older than me and avoiding all eye contact possible.

Once seated, the weight of the moment crashes over me, and I feel a wave of dizziness. I’m shaking all over from a combination of humiliation and rage. All of the air seems to have left the room.

“Willow?”

Consciously, I know Zach whispered my name, but in the panic of the moment, I can’t process whether he said anything else. I can no longer hear his voice. All I can hear are Mario’s words as I stood in the club, terrified and trembling in a skimpy outfit in front of two total strangers.

She’ll take good care of you, Mr Sanchez. Willow is brand new, like you requested. She’s yours for the price we discussed.

“Babe, look at me.”

When he tries to touch me, I violently flinch. Zach shrinks back, wearing a horrified look at the sight of me recoiling from him.

Go with Mr Sanchez, Willow. Best behaviour. Don’t let me down now.

“Come back, angel.”

Micah’s hand lands on my shaking leg. I shoot up, unable to tolerate the feel of someone touching me. I’m spiralling down a hole of terror, worsened by the pair of cold, dead eyes still locked on me across the room.

Mario grins.

He fucking grins.

“I-I need the bathroom,” I blurt.

Aalia stands up with me. “I can take her.”

The guys all look crestfallen as Zach nods on behalf of the group. I can’t even look at them right now. Not while that monster is staring at me and sending me flying back into the scared skin of a sixteen year old.

Bolting down the aisle, I head for the nearest exit. Aalia follows, her heels tapping against the floor. We burst out into the corridor, and I make a beeline for the nearest bathroom.

“Willow!” Aalia calls.

Slamming the stall door shut, I quickly slide the lock into place and collapse on the closed toilet lid. My head falls into my hands, breath coming out in short, painful rasps.

“I’m here, Willow. Just outside this door. You’re not alone.”

Clutching my head, I fight to breathe steadily, the air slipping between my fingers. His voice still plays in my head on repeat, blurring with Mr Sanchez’s deep, throaty boom of evil.

You will address me as Mr Sanchez. Nothing else. Is that clear?

“You can’t let him win,” Aalia says emphatically. “Do you hear me, Willow? You did good. He’s going to go down for a long time.”

Clutching my tight chest, I try to hold on to her words, but it doesn’t cut through the haze of panic. Nothing does.

Not even the knowledge that I’m the one out here, enjoying freedom, while Mario will never see the free world again.

The door to the bathroom clicks shut, then I hear Aalia shift.

“Hey, what are you do?—”

There’s a loud bang before a shadow hits the floor outside of the bathroom stall. Long hair peeks underneath the door as it spills around the black and white tiles.

“Aalia!” I scream.

“Quiet, Willow. Get your ass out here, or she’s toast.”

My fear triples. Lia. I’d recognise her voice anywhere.

“Lia? What are you doing?”

“My job,” she hisses. “Open this door, or the pretty girl gets it. Your choice.”

Hands slick with sweat, I quickly unlock the door to unveil Lia looming over Aalia’s unconscious body. She’s bleeding from a small gash in the corner of her mouth, and blood is smeared over Lia’s knuckles.

“What did you do to her?”

She shrugs. “What was necessary. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Time for what? You’re insane!”

“I fucking have to be,” Lia growls. “Do you have any idea what a huge pain in the ass you’ve been? If you’d just come quietly instead of fucking everything up for us all…”

Awful, sickening reality snaps into sharp focus. Bloodstained and snarling, she isn’t the regretful, teary-eyed person she pretended to be in front of everyone.

That was all an act. Just like Tara’s fa?ade was.

Lia works for them.

The monsters.

“What have you done?”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Willow. You don’t understand. The things they give us… the money…”

“Money? You’re threatening me for money?”

“Threatening.” She laughs to herself. “That implies there’s a negotiation. We will not be negotiating. You’ve gone a step too far this time.”

Pulling out her phone, she flips it around to show me a video on the screen. My heart leaps into my throat as I recognise a long-range shot of the hotel we left Arianna and Rachel in.

“She’s in there,” Lia says triumphantly.

“You d-don’t know that!”

“You just confirmed it for me. So here’s what is going to happen. Unless you want your precious daughter to feel a world of pain, you’re going to come quietly.”

“I know you won’t dare touch her!”

“Won’t we?”

On the screen, the camera flips down to show a gun held in the gloved-hand of someone watching over the hotel. I gulp down a bubble of nauseous fear. They’re so close to my little girl.

I pull at my hair, feeling myself unravel. “Sabre’s men are guarding her. You’ll never get to her.”

Lia laughs again. “Four assholes playing cards and drinking coffee? I hardly think they’ll be a problem.”

“When did you start working for Mr Sanchez?”

“Someone had to replace you.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Mario thought I’d be a good fit for the job. He keeps me supplied with all the good stuff, and I live a happy fuckin’ life. Simple.”

“Simple? You’re taking his drugs in exchange for hurting people!”

“Like I give a fuck about who gets hurt.” Wiping blood off her knuckles, she grabs my arm. “Time to go, else the little one is going to get a rude awakening. Your choice.”

“They won’t let you take me out of here.”

“That’s why you’re going to walk out yourself.” Her grip tightens painfully. “Better make it convincing too, or that gun will get some use. What’s it going to be?”

Swaying on my feet, I stare down at Aalia. She’s still out cold but breathing. It won’t take her long to wake up and raise the alarm. I can’t gamble with Arianna’s safety.

“Alright,” I say reluctantly.

“Good choice, mama bear. Move it.”

Still holding my arm under the pretence of supporting me, we leave the bathroom together and exit into a long, carpeted corridor lined with security. I have to plaster on my best fake smile.

“Where’s the exit?” Lia asks innocently. “We’re in need of some fresh air after that testimony, if you know what I mean.”

One of the officers looks sympathetic. “I’ll escort you both.”

With an armed guard at our backs, I feel a burst of relief. I can make it out of this. If we can just stall long enough, the guys will come looking for us and find Aalia.

The thought of those armed assholes with guns outside Arianna’s hotel soon kills my relief. She’s in imminent danger. If I have to play this ridiculous game to protect her, then that’s what I’ll do.

“Over here.” The guard points.

“Oh, thank you,” Lia gushes.

He leads us off to an alarmed door leading outside. Inputting the code, he opens it to let us out, waving off the additional security officers who jump into action.

Once through, Lia guides me over to the stone wall that marks the outside of the court and props me up. Heart pounding, I feign dizziness, still hoping to buy some time.

“You okay, ma’am?” the guard asks.

I want to scream. Run. Fight and rave. I will not go back. Not now, not ever. Forcing myself to think of Arianna at the end of a gun, I keep my head lowered to hide my terrified tears.

“Just a little dizzy.”

“It’s intense in there.” Lia rubs my arms, doing a great job of playing the concerned friend.

The guard chuckles. “For sure. Let me go get you some water.”

No!

Whipping my head up, I’m about to launch myself at him when Lia grabs a discarded brick from a damaged wall nearby and throws her whole weight at the guard.

With a stomach-churning thud, it connects with the back of his head. He lets out a strangled cry and hits the ground, blood gushing from his head to form a crimson pool on the concrete.

Lia chucks the brick aside, breathing hard. She pulls her phone back out from her pocket and dials a number.

“It’s me. We’re on the east side, third emergency exit.”

Hanging up the call, Lia looks over at me. I’ve inched away from her, hugging my midsection tight to protect myself from her. Gaze softening, she almost looks sad for a moment.

“She’ll be safe,” she says in a low voice. “All he wants is you, Willow. The kid will be left alone. Do this for her.”

“F-Fuck you,” I spit back, my words coming out shaky. “He will never leave Arianna alone.”

“I’m trying to help you. It was this or watch him kill every single person in that courtroom to stop this trial. Be grateful he opted for the first scenario.”

Feeling a sudden, wild burst of courage, I decide to launch myself at her with my fists raised. I get a few inches before her knuckles slam into my jaw, and I hit the ground with a burst of pain.

“Nice try,” she snorts. “You’re out of practice, bitch.”

“Fuck!” I scream. “Someone help me!”

Eyes flaring with alarm, Lia advances towards me, her leg pulled back on a kick. When her foot connects with my side, I beg for her to leave me alone, doing my best to shield myself.

“Next kick’s on that fuckin’ baby’s head,” she warns. “Shut the hell up.”

Choking on endless sobs, I curl up on the hard ground, begging for an alarm to begin blaring. The guys can’t be far behind.

An engine growling, tyres crunch as a car approaches, breaking straight through the gate and past several security guards protecting the outside of the court.

That’s when an alarm begins screaming. The car is huge—a massive, muscled SUV with tinted windows not unlike Ethan’s giant beast. But the men who climb out of it aren’t Sabre operatives.

I recognise two of them.

Sanchez’s men.

He’s here.

Lyon, one of Sanchez’s men, crouches down next to me, his putrid breath intensifying the nausea already curdling in my stomach. “Pleasure to see you again, Mrs Sanchez. It’s been a while.”

“Leave m-me alone.”

“No can do, I’m afraid. The boss has been waiting very patiently for this delivery. Come on, petal. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

I want to throw up at the repulsive pet name. He took great pleasure in calling me that before, usually as I limped out of Mr Sanchez’s playroom, covered in blood and bruises.

As he tries to lift me, the alarm still slicing through the air, I fight back. Kicking. Scratching. Yelling. Anything to buy some time. It’s no use, though—he’s too strong, pinning my arms against my sides with the help of his men.

“Sedate her,” Lyon commands.

Another man approaches with a hypodermic needle in hand, pulled from his cargo trousers. He dips it into a tiny glass bottle then draws back the syringe to fill it with clear liquid.

“No!” I wail. “Let me go!”

But my cries for help are completely useless as the needle plunges into my neck regardless, filling me with fiery ice. Still, I continue screaming my head off, desperate for someone to hear me. The reverberating sound of my pleas soon grow quieter and feebler as I lose control of my extremities.

Helplessness floods my paralyzed body. I’m lifted and carried over to the car, where Lyon tosses me in the back next to Lia.

“Stubborn woman,” she whispers. “There’s no escaping him, Willow. Not for any of us.”

That’s the last thing I hear before darkness consumes me, and the world vanishes from sight.