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The truth can set her free
For the past two months, Kitty Doe’s life has been a lie. Forced to impersonate Lila Hart, the Prime Minister’s niece, in a hostile meritocracy on the verge of revolution, Kitty sees her frustration grow as her trust in her fake fiancé cracks, her real boyfriend is forbidden and the Blackcoat rebels she is secretly supporting keep her in the dark more than ever.
But in the midst of discovering that her role in the Hart family may not be as coincidental as she thought, she’s accused of treason and is forced to face her greatest fear: Elsewhere. A prison where no one can escape.
As one shocking revelation leads to the next, Kitty learns the hard way that she can trust no one, not even the people she thought were on her side. With her back against the wall, Kitty wants to believe she’ll do whatever it takes to support the rebellion she believes in—but is she prepared to pay the ultimate price?
Captive
Aimée Carter
To Carli Segal and Veronica O’Neil
Contents
V SECTION X
VI SCOTIA
VII FIGHT
VIII SPY
IX COLD HOPE
X HUNTED
XI HEARTBEAT
XII GUARDED
XIII MERCY KILL
XIV TORTURE
XV THE CAGE
XVI EXECUTION
XVII VOICE
Somewhere nearby, Benjy was waiting for me.
I could feel his stare as I made my rounds through the grand ballroom of Somerset Manor, greeting each new face with a smile that was becoming harder and harder to hold. They buzzed around me, vying for a few moments of my time, but we all knew they were only here because of my name and face. I was Lila Hart, the niece of the Prime Minister of the United States and one of the few VIIs in the entire country—which, in a roomful of VIs, made me more powerful than them all.
But I didn’t want power or fame. If I had my way, I would be tucked away in my suite with Benjy, stealing as many moments alone together as we could. Instead, I was stuck celebrating my birthday with a roomful of my so-called closest friends, led around by a fiancé I didn’t even particularly like, let alone love.
Except it wasn’t my birthday. These weren’t my friends. And Knox Creed was most definitely not my fiancé.
My name wasn’t Lila Hart. It was Kitty Doe, and on my real seventeenth birthday in September, I’d been kidnapped by the Prime Minister and surgically transformed into his spoiled, rebellious, and supposedly dead, niece against my will. He’d given me a choice: pretend to be Lila or wind up with a bullet in my brain. I wasn’t an idiot, and even though it had meant giving up everything I’d known and everyone I’d loved, I’d chosen to live—and to fight. Three months later, after discovering a lifetime’s worth of political conspiracies and secrets that should have stayed buried, here I was, with Knox clutching my arm as he led me through a crowd of people who would kill me if they figured out who I really was.
I glared up at him and tried to subtly twist my arm from his grip, but he hung on. I didn’t care that he was handsome and tall, with dark hair and even darker eyes, and that most girls would have killed to be in my shoes. They didn’t have to deal with his endless stream of instructions on how to impersonate a girl I hated, nor did they have to pretend to love him in front of the entire country when we spent most days in a constant tug of war.
Besides, I was extremely happy with the boyfriend I already had, thank you very much—a boyfriend who, with his infinite patience, had been waiting over an hour for me to slip away from these people. If I didn’t find a way soon, the night wasn’t going to end pleasantly for any of us.
“We had a deal,” I whispered, leaning into Knox so only he could hear me. “I play nice for a couple hours and leave at nine. It’s now almost eleven.”
“Sometimes plans change,” he said, his fingers tightening around my elbow. Even though he was speaking to me, his eyes scanned the ballroom. “Relax and try to enjoy yourself.”
The only times I’d enjoyed myself in the past few months had been those stolen moments with Benjy. “Lila would have never stayed this long. Every minute I hang around, the more suspicious it looks.”
“I know,” he said quietly, bending down to brush his lips against my ear. The heat of his breath reminded me just how cold it was in the ballroom, and I shivered in my flimsy silk dress. “But sometimes even Lila had to do things she didn’t like. Incoming.”
I turned around in time to see a portly man amble up to us. Minister Bradley, one of the twelve Ministers of the Union who worked under the Prime Minister. I didn’t know many of them on sight, but Minister Bradley’s handlebar mustache was burned into my brain, along with the way my skin crawled whenever he was nearby.
“Lila, my dear, you look ravishing.” He leaned in to bump his dry lips against my cheek, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed
