Jenna Black: Resistance

Her mother bid her a chilly farewell, and Nadia was hardly feeling warmer herself. Understanding why her mother was sending her away didn’t make the sting of it hurt any less. And the fact that she was being whisked away so quickly, without having a chance to say good-bye in person to anyone but her mother, didn’t do much for her peace of mind, either.

She managed a quick phone call with Gerri before leaving. “Please remember what I told you this morning,” she said vaguely. “Please promise me. I’ll explain when I can.”

Gerri didn’t like it one bit—she had to be dying of curiosity, if nothing else—but she got the message and made the reluctant promise.

Nate hadn’t answered his phone, so Nadia was forced to leave him a message. She was just going to have to trust him to protect their secret—and to find a way to contact her and let her know if the worst should happen and the Chairman found the recordings.

When Nadia’s limo approached, the small cluster of reporters who’d chosen to stake out the garage entrance perked up, snapping pictures wildly. The limo, of course, had tinted windows, so all they were getting was a photograph of a car, but that didn’t seem to discourage them. Several of them charged the limo and knocked on the glass, shouting questions. Another stood directly in the limo’s path to block the way. Blocking the car was illegal, and one of the security officers who’d been assigned to control the press started forward to remove the obstacle. However, Nadia’s driver was apparently under strict orders not to stop for any reason. When the reporter stepped into his way, he didn’t lessen his speed. The reporter had to dive to the side before the security officer could remove him. Nadia wondered how that little drama was going to play with the media.

About eighty minutes later, the limo pulled up to the massive iron gates of Tranquility’s entrance, and Nadia got her first look at the facility that she hoped would be her home for no more than one week.

The gates were closed and guarded by a security booth, which housed two security guards. Stretching out from both sides of the gates was an iron fence about seven feet tall. Each fence post was topped by a fleur-de-lis, the center of which looked wickedly sharp and forbidding. The decoration did little to hide the reality that the fence was meant to keep unwanted visitors—like the press—out. The limo drove through, and Nadia shivered at the suspicion that the fence worked just as well at keeping guests in.

Nadia couldn’t see the facility itself from the entrance. The driveway curved shortly past the gates, and a wall of trees that ran parallel to the fence blocked everything beyond from view. No reporter with a zoom lens would intrude on the privacy of those who took refuge behind this retreat’s walls.

Nadia swallowed a lump of dread that formed in her throat when she looked over her shoulder and saw the gates closing behind her.

“One week,” she murmured to herself under her breath. “Two at most.”

The reminder would have been more comforting if Nadia could actually believe it. Her parents might think of her stay here as something harmless and temporary, but when Chairman Hayes found out, Nadia was sure he would do his utmost to ensure that the retreat served as a permanent solution to his problem. After all, what damage could Nadia do to him when she was to all intents and purposes imprisoned, allowed no contact with the outside world?

The grounds the limo wended its way through were lovely, as advertised. Flowerbeds bursting with out-of-season blooms lined the driveway and surrounded white gravel walking paths. In the relatively short drive from the gate to the front drive, Nadia saw no fewer than three pristine white gazebos and two artfully placed ponds, one with water lilies, one without. No doubt the decorative gardens and paths continued all the way around the building.

Tranquility’s main building was a modern reinterpretation of a classic Gothic mansion. It had all the turrets, peaks, and gables associated with the Gothic style, but they were fashioned of steel and glass rather than stone and wood. The effect might have been cold and sterile, if it weren’t for the profusion of flowers growing on trellises and in window boxes. In her present state of mind, Nadia couldn’t quite persuade herself to think of the place as inviting, but it was at least making an effort.

As the limo pulled up to the curb at the front entrance, a woman in khaki trousers and a powder-blue shirt adorned with the Tranquility logo exited the building and descended the short set of stone steps, smiling brightly in Nadia’s general direction, though of course she couldn’t see through the tinted windows.

“Here we are, Miss,” the driver said unnecessarily as he put the limo in park. No doubt he was preparing to get out and open Nadia’s door for her, but the woman beat him to it.

“Thank you,” Nadia said to the driver, feeling awkward. Ordinarily, she would tip him after such a long drive, but her mother had insisted she couldn’t bring a purse. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded.

“You must be Nadia,” the woman said, her smile so wide and bright it made Nadia’s cheeks ache in sympathy. “My name is Marigold, but you can call me Mari. Welcome to Tranquility!”

“Um, thanks,” Nadia said, for lack of a better response. She wanted to yell at her driver to hit the accelerator and get her out of here, but that wasn’t an option, so she reluctantly climbed out of the car.

“You’re going to have a wonderful time here,” Mari gushed, taking Nadia’s arm and steering her up the steps.

Nadia sincerely doubted that, and she couldn’t help casting a longing glance over her shoulder as the limo drove away. She was now officially stuck here until her parents chose to send for her.

If Mari noticed Nadia’s melancholy, she chose to ignore it. “Let’s get you checked in, and then I’ll show you around and help you get oriented.”

Mari led Nadia to an elegant locker room, decorated with brass and marble and more of the ubiquitous flowers. Several of the lockers had electronic key cards sticking out of them, and Mari opened one of those for Nadia, handing the card to her.

“You can change out of your street clothes here,” Mari said cheerfully. She pointed into the locker. “You can choose a robe, or a pants and tunic combo, whichever you prefer. Everything’s your size and super comfortable.”

“You mean I’m not even allowed to wear my own clothes?” Nadia asked in dismay. She hadn’t thought through exactly what it meant that she hadn’t been allowed to bring luggage.

Mari’s smile didn’t dim. “The goal here at Tranquility is for our guests to leave the outside world behind entirely. You don’t have to dress to impress here. You just have to be comfortable.”

Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. She’d hardly call her casual pants and knit top “dressing to impress,” although, of course, they were of the highest quality and custom-made by a top designer. “I’m perfectly comfortable dressed the way I am.”

She’d kind of hoped her obstinacy would crack Mari’s maniacally cheerful demeanor, but it didn’t. “Trust me, your spa wardrobe will be even more comfortable. Once you put it on, you’ll never want to take it off.”

In the past, Nadia had always been dutiful and obedient, as befitted an Executive girl. A girl in her position, slated to marry the Chairman Heir while still not old enough to make a legally binding agreement, couldn’t afford to set a foot wrong, and she’d had that drilled into her head for as long as she could remember. Not that long ago, she would have done as she was told without protest, but she was tired of doing what she was told. Being dutiful and obedient hadn’t stopped her from being embroiled in this awful mess.