Tara
The man who had been pretending to be Ben Iusuf reported directly to Dusak’s man. He put in a phone call that morning as soon as the silly schoolgirl had stopped sending him messages that were oozing with teenage love.
The fat man, balding and bespectacled, whistled through his teeth as he set up a call with Dusak. He had a tattoo on his left arm, a reminder of his days in prison and he was in his mid-thirties. He was also interested in young children. His stint in jail for his pedophile tendencies had not cured him of his desires.
Tara Delano, unfortunately, was just a bit too old; he liked them below ten.
He knew from past experience that the One-Eyed would be angry. And that was putting it mildly.
*
Ria
She giggled again as she helped her mother in the kitchen, her airpods in her ear, as she listened to Philippe. She had never really thought of how sexy and warm his voice was as he growled and told her about how he was waiting to get back to Hollowford, to the Delano mansion.
Beatrice rapped her on the wrist with a spatula lightly and she rolled her eyes at the old woman who glared back. But Ria threw her arms around the old woman and hugged her as she felt a rush of love and affection sweep her.
She was too happy, just too happy to do anything. Mumma looked her way as she placed the onions and tomatoes that she wanted to be chopped for the biriyani, in a large bowl. Ria beamed at her and Uncle Schwartz, who was sitting beside Mumma on a kitchen stool, whistled and chuckled at Ria. Those two could laugh and chat for hours, she thought with a smile.
Even when her father, obviously green-eyed and monopolizing of Mumma and her easy camaraderie with Uncle James, stormed into the kitchen and yelled for Uncle James, she watched cheerfully.
It was his deep love that made him insecure, she thought as she watched her beautiful Mumma bite her lip hesitantly, her coffee-colored eyes clouding over. For Pappa was easily almost twenty years older than young Mumma and to see her in the company of a handsome, much younger man made him resentful and suspicious. She wanted to grab her father’s arms and make him understand; there was never going to be any way Mumma would even think of Uncle James in such a way, look at him as a lover. She was totally smitten by Pappa, she so obviously adored, no worshipped him.
And sh*t, they were like young people, unable to keep their hands off each other she thought, blushing as she looked away from the open hunger in her father’s eyes as he gazed at Mumma. And this was after they had been together for like, well, ages! Seven kids later too, she thought archly.
Was this how it would be when she was older and Philippe was her husband, she thought dreamily and came back to earth with a start as Beatrice poured some ice-cold water on her hands. Ria jumped,’ Hey, Bea! Stop doing that!!!’
“I is calling you, gal and you got that moon calf look again. Would be nice to have you in the kitchen with us for a change, not dreaming of that young lad!’ snapped the old woman and Ria felt warm as she noticed the smiles on the face of the maids and Camille who gave a snort of laughter.
*
Lucien
He was like a man with a dark cloud over his head. And when his wife strolled in and kissed him so boldly, so wantonly before his men and his best mate, it was all he could do to prevent himself from taking her right there, before everyone else, roughly.
And the little witch knew how he was feeling all right, with her tantalizing dimples and her dancing eyes as she bit his lower lip. A finger trailing over his jaw, she whispered huskily,
‘I am making your favorite dish tonight. So stop being like a bear, Lucien my love!’
And slyly she bit his earlobe, unnoticed by the men in the room who were pretending to be blind and deaf. Except of course Schwartz. He was grinning at them in delight.
Lucien Delano growled under his breath as she strolled out, her wide hips swinging in that way, making his shaft harden painfully, smiling beatifically at the men in the room who looked gratified with her presence.
He tore his gaze away from her with a supreme effort as she shut the door gently behind her and left. Schwartz’s amused eyes were on him but he made a supreme effort to ignore his best friend and glowered at the papers before him.
*
Cole
He looked about him. The Monk had put him up in a small place, in LA. The City of Angels, he thought as he strolled over to the window and gazed out. This was one place where the Monk and Dusak were setting up their connections, not easy since the Cosa Nostra was already active and ruled the place. But the Monk, in his insidious and ruthless manner, was beginning to make his place here, nevertheless. And Cole was willing to bide his time and wait until the older, craftier man asked him to be active in the business. For surely, their plan had been to make him a partner, right? he told himself as he sank onto the bed and shut his eyes.
*
Hila
She had been lucky, she thought later as she fixed her make-up and returned to the Conference Hall. She was barely a few minutes late but she had managed to fix her clothes, taking deep breaths to regain her composure. Now she sat, her eyes darting about as she made sure that no one had come to report the disturbance.
There had been a camera at the far end of the corridor but it had not been working yet when she had checked the night before. The wiring was still to be done there, on that wing.
And she was also annoyed with herself for having lost control and having slipped up so easily. Why had she allowed that disgusting pervert to make her lose her cool?
Hila Zaidi knew the answer; his hands, his nearness, had reminded her body of the violent rape she had been subjected to; a gang rape. And although she was still attending counseling sessions, she had not been able to overcome her fright and her desperation. She had not allowed a man within touching distance ever since, either.
*
She had no idea that the man who had tried to ravish her had been left feeling so ashamed of having been brought to his knees, his ego badly bruised, that he had left the place as soon as he could get up.
Danielle had seen him go, a defeated and humbled, disheveled-looking man, quite different from the predator who had been openly leering and trying to paw the girls the previous day. Curious, she had checked the footage and when she had seen the way he had gone into one of the rooms to lie in hiding, she had groaned.
Then she saw Ava Morrison, demure and dumpy looking, emerge in the corridor, her head down, intent on her thoughts, she had feared the worst.
Since what happened after that was not recorded as the cameras on that floor, in that wing had not yet been activated, she did not know exactly what had taken place.
But something must have occurred to make the disgusting old creep slink away so hurriedly, she thought her brows knitting in consternation.
Puffing on her cigar, she marched off to Pier’s office.
*
Dusak
He was ‘breaking in’ as he liked to call it, a new teenage girl who had been sold to his people, all the way from Eastern Europe. Blonde and thin, she was a fighter and his body was gleaming with sweat, eyes excited as she finally gave in while he forced himself on her, repeatedly. Her screams had subsided into pathetic sobs and he rose, his face glowing with exertion and victory.
He always chose the blondes and those who were putting up the longest fights. Perhaps he was thinking of Ria Delano, she of the blonde curls and the curvy figure, thinking of the day when he would be subduing her when he violently f*cked the poor women beneath him?
And then, Duak became aware that his close aide, Mustafa, was standing a the door. The man’s hard face with the scars was something that anyone would be afraid of but Dusak smiled at him, wiping his chest carelessly, not bothering to hide his nakedness. His men had seen him rape hundreds of hapless women before. But the expression on Mustafa’s face brought him up short.
‘What is it?’ he cried, a cold feeling of dread trailing up his spine.
He knew that Mustafa never came to attend the sessions where Dusak first used the woman of his choice and then, tossed her over to his men to enjoy for as long as they wished.
Mustafa grunted. For a man with as powerful a physique as Mustafa’s his voice was quite at odds with him. He had a high, breathless voice.
Now he looked at the ground and shifted from foot to foot as he said nervously,
‘ He got away. Philippe the Capo. He escaped.’
Dusak staggered back, reeling as though someone had dealt him a body blow. How could it be?
He had seen with his own eyes, the dead body, burnt…
His mind began to race feverishly.
The same leather jacket, the papers.
It had been a trap and he had fallen for it.
*
They had not been able to use DNA to check the body because an anonymous caller had alerted the local police, leading to them turning up in large numbers.
. He was feeling exhausted after the rough bout of mating, having taken hours to reduce the girl to a helpless surrendering mass.
” WHAT DID YOU SAY?’ he shouted and the girl on the bed flinched, cowering, a muffled sob of terror escaping from her throat.
Dusak spun around reaching for the unfortunate teenager’s hair. He had picked up the knife he had used on her, to torture her, and with one deft stroke, he had slit her throat.
Even as the blood spurted, and her body collapsed on the bed, the life leaving her body, he turned to Mustafa, eyes wild with anger,
‘HOW?’, he screamed, shaking with rage.
*
Claude
Piers had asked him to come over at once and on his way from the gym, he took a detour and went to the new Club.
He marveled at the vast lawns, the huge castle-like structure that had come up in a matter of months, and the state-of-the-art technology within the building.
Pappa had outdone himself when he created this Utopia of Kink, he thought to himself with a grin.
He wanted to visit the new Ring which was on the first level in the basement but something about his brother’s summons made him guess that he should be meeting Piers first.
As he entered Pier’s new office, e was surprised to see Danille there. The woman was smoking as always and he sighed, crossing over to give her a quick hug. Hey, Dani, he said, you are going to die of cancer, babe.’
She snorted and blew a cloud of smoke into his face deliberately.
“Gotta go when the time comes, kiddo,’ she snapped.
He looked at his brother who was staring at the monitor screen.
“Come over and see this, Claude,’ said Piers. Both of them watched in silence as first, the man named Miguel Sanz, a particularly obnoxious arms dealer, emerged, looking about himself, obviously lying in wait for some girl.
When Ava appeared, looking as ungainly as possible, Claude whistled.
‘Poor cow,’ he breathed.
Piers scowled, the light from the monitor highlighting his austere handsome face. Claude watched in astonishment when after a space of ten minutes, Miguel Sanz appeared to stumble away, almost staggering. And soon after, Ava Morrison appeared.
She looked none the worse for wear and this time, there seemed to be a change in her demeanor; a slight change that made her seem like a different person. She walked with confidence.
Not like the woman whom they had glimpsed, a servile, shy woman who hesitated to meet anyone’s eyes. This was a woman striding down the corridor, smoothing her dress, looking aggressive and cold.
She raised her eyes to the camera once, challenging and scornful and Piers froze the image.
“Claude, find out about this woman.’ Said Piers in a hard voice. ‘She is not who she says she is.’