"You're not apologizing because you know you were wrong. You're apologizing because you need something and have no other choice." The woman's face turned pale. She opened her mouth to argue, but Selene cut her off. "Either way, I can't help you. Find another way." She wasn't a boss. She wasn't a leader. She wasn't even a supervisor. She was just another worker. What right did she have to tell anyone who they could or couldn't sleep with? The lower-ranked men were only polite to her because she knew how to keep the higher-ups happy. She'd be a fool to start meddling in their private business. Besides, favors cost too much in times like these. Why would she risk her own standing to help someone who had always been against her? When the woman still didn't let go of her, Selene's voice hardened. "Let go." The woman lifted her head, her eyes filled with defiance. Selene frowned and looked down at the tray in her hands. "I have work to do. If I'm late delivering this, you won't have to worry about him anymore—you'll be dead before nightfall." She paused for a beat, her voice cold and deliberate. "And it won't be an easy death." The woman's strength left her all at once. She stumbled back, releasing her grip immediately. Selene's lips curved with satisfaction. She looked down at her and said, "Here's a final lesson for you. You can't scramble for help at the last minute and expect it to save you." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.The woman didn't deserve a shred of pity. She was a coward who picked on the weak and cowered before the strong. If she had even a hint of sense and knew how to keep a decent connection with an old coworker, Selene might have been willing to help. But she had just called her a dog. A filthy bitch. Why should she help someone like that? It would be an insult to herself if she did. Selene let out a sharp breath, ignoring the woman's pale, hopeless face. She lifted the tray and walked toward the locked door at the end of the hallway. Pulling a key from her coat pocket, she turned it and pushed the door open. The hinges groaned, and the room beyond was swallowed in darkness. She opened the door wider, letting the dim light from the hall stretch into the room. Only then did she spot two thin figures curled in the far corner. Relief loosened her chest. She set the tray down. "Ladies, it's time to eat." Neither woman moved. They stayed where they were, huddled together, eyes sharp with suspicion. They were new, so the fear made sense. Selene softened her tone. "I'll leave your risotto here. There's one plate for each of you, so go ahead and eat." She paused before adding, "Sorry, one of the soups spilled earlier. There's only one left. You'll have to share. If it's not enough, I'll bring more." Then she waited, watching for them to start eating. She'd been told to keep them alive, to feed them well, and to make sure they lived comfortably until their bodies finally gave out. Slow, natural deaths. She didn't have much else to do, so she might as well stay and make sure they ate. After a long moment, one of the old women shifted, as though gathering courage to move.But the other reached out and stopped her. "Guinevere, be careful." Guinevere? Selene arched a brow. That name sounded oddly young for someone her age. And that voice didn't sound old either. Could it be that these weren't old women at all, but two girls with dyed gray hair? Frowning, Selene pulled a lighter from her pocket and flicked it on, holding it toward them. The tiny flame revealed exactly what she'd been told to expect—two elderly women with gray hair and deep lines carved into their faces. But their clothes were strange. They wore trendy outfits, the kind young women favored. The one called Guinevere pulled away from her companion and stumbled forward. "Please, miss! Let us go! We were tricked into coming here!" Miss? Selene's brows knitted together. She wasn't even thirty, yet this old woman was calling her "miss" like she was the older one? Maybe these new ones weren't just scared—they might be out of their minds. She took a cautious step back, wary of getting scratched by someone deranged. Chains hung from the walls, and both women were shackled at the ankles, limited to a few feet of movement. Before Guinevere could reach her, the chain snapped tight, jerking her backward and throwing her to the floor. The sound echoed through the room. She didn't even flinch. Guinevere scrambled up again, tears streaking her face as she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, miss! Let us go! I just want to go home!"Selene froze in disbelief. Every old woman who had been brought here before was weak, barely able to move or even speak. But this one was different—she was full of life. The woman was frail and wrinkled, yet she yanked at the iron chain with such force that Selene worried she might hurt herself, maybe even throw out her back. Her voice was what unsettled Selene the most. It was clear, youthful, and almost vibrant, just like the other woman's. A cold shiver crawled down Selene's spine. She had a bad feeling about this, like she had just seen something she shouldn't have. She decided she'd better not stick around. She forced a small, polite smile. "Ma'am, please take your time eating. I'll come back later for the dishes."