Queen of Wild Cards novel Chapter 445

Every pair of eyes in the room stayed locked onto Stella.

Yet, not a single person spoke to her.

"Why aren't you guys talking?" Had their vocal cords been cut or something?

Still, silence.

Getting no response, Stella dropped it and started inspecting the room herself.

It didn't take long to figure out why they were all mute.

There were security cameras monitoring the room.

She guessed that every single sound and movement here was being watched.

When Lucian brought her in, he used a fingerprint scanner to unlock the door. She wondered what his rank in the hierarchy was.

This meant the door could only be opened from the outside; there was no way out from within.

As for the barred window, she noticed a small sliding panel at the bottom. It was likely where their food was pushed through.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

She didn't know how long she sat there before the door finally opened, and someone slid a basin of food inside. It was a pile of stale buns.

The moment the basin hit the floor, the prisoners lunged, fighting over the bread.

They were incredibly stingy. How could anyone survive on just buns?

No wonder everyone looked so starved.

She grabbed a bun and took a bite.

This was no time to be picky. Conserving her strength was her top priority.

After finishing hers, she thought for a second, grabbed another bun, and walked over to one of the men cuffed to the wall. "Want some?"

The man nodded frantically. "Yes, please."

He was starving to death; of course he wanted it.

If she gave him a child, that kid would undoubtedly be gorgeous.

Her apparent lack of intelligence worried him slightly—he didn't want it to affect his lineage.

But she seemed young. Maybe with a little training, she could be molded into something smarter.

He'd keep her locked up for a few days. He'd wait until her spirit was completely broken before making a move.

Since there were no clocks in the room, Stella could only guess she had been locked up for about three days, tracking the time by how many meals of stale buns she'd eaten and how many times the room had gone dark.

Occasionally, guards would come in and drag some of the others out. Some came back later.

Others were dragged out and never returned.

The days of confinement were excruciatingly boring. She was so restless she spent her time picking at the floorboards, practically ready to carve a mansion into the concrete.

Why hadn't anyone pulled her out for interrogation yet?

Finally, on the third day, Tiger picked up the phone. "Bring me the pretty one from Room Three."