Bianca
I am in a new dress, one of the clothes Daisy and her team have selected for me. It’s a flowing green gown, floating around me. Some transparent material that makes me feel like I am a creature from another world …
*
Diana Benz called me early this evening right after Shelly Jacobsen had left.
“Mr O’Grady is sending a car to collect you at 6 pm. Be ready.”
Her voice was clipped and businesslike and she replaced the phone before I could ask her anything more.
Be ready for what? I asked myself nervously.
*
But here I am now, dressed like a sacrificial virgin, for that is what I am, dressed to win, to charm, to seduce. But my fear makes me tremble. Makes me want to turn tail and run.
Only, I can’t because I foolishly signed away my life for a year to two of the cleverest, most ruthless men in the country.
Liam O’Grady and Finn St Just.
A tear trickles down my cheek but I know it is too late for weakness.
One year, I tell myself bravely, just one year…
*
A large black limo slid up the drive, exactly at ten minutes to six.
I looked around me and then glided down the steps and to the car. I felt like Cinderella, stealing away to the ball. There was no one to tell me that the dress was lovely, my hair was dazzling. Like an orphaned ghost, I walked to the limo and a chauffeur stepped out and silently opened the door.
The car glided along the road and I stared out, unseeingly.
I looked back a the little house I had spent the night at, my heart pounding as I sat back, clenching my fists.
It took us an hour and a half, a little over that, perhaps, but I was unaware of the passing of the time.
The journey took us along the road that bordered the river, the woods and then, into the suburbs of New Haven.
*
I was a nervous wreck by the time we finally reached a huge gated house.
The massive wrought iron gates slid open when the chauffeur typed in a code and I saw a couple of men with large guns sitting in the little booth at the gate. I also noticed men with large automatic weapons strolling across the lawns that spread out in all directions. The large white house was on a hill and the road to the house was a meandering one. I saw a pool, a glass building , an outhouse on the green grounds and beyond that, I could make out the sparkling waters of the lake. It was beautiful, pristine and in the lap of nature …but I could have been taken to a box in a factory for all I cared.
*
As the car drew up a the door, a large wooden double door that looked like the entrance to a castle, I thought with a shudder, the door opened and a man appeared.
He was dressed in a black and white uniform.
I almost shrieked in surprise,
An old-world butler? Where on earth was I?
*
The chauffeur came round and helped me to get down. My hands were as cold as ice and I felt the man’s curious gaze on me before he lowered his eyes.
Slowly, I glided forward, and the old butler stood, watching me, stiff and regal.
“Welcome, Ms. Cruz,” he said solemnly and let me in, shutting the massive doors behind me.
I looked around, dazzled.
*
I was in the foyer of what can only be called a grand mansion; its intricate architecture, elegant chandeliers, and ornate furnishings exuded an air of sophistication that left me in awe.
The mansion’s grand entrance with its sweeping staircase, high ceilings, and intricate details gave a sense of majesty and splendour that was fit for royalty. I gasped. The opulent mansion’s decadent decor, from the imported marble floors and walls to the ornate hand-carved woodwork and gilded accents, was a testament to the owner’s extravagant tastes.
“Like what you see?’ said a mocking voice from the doorway and I spun around quickly, almost falling down in shock.
*
The butler had vanished and I stood, staring at Finn St Just.
He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame casually, and I could make out his broad shoulders. He stepped forward and I caught a whiff of his masculine spice.
Staring at him, I realised that I was trembling in fear. He uses paddles, came the thought and I quivered. Was it fear? Or excitement? I didn’t know but he saw my pale face, tense and white and he frowned. I could see he was not happy at my reaction.
“Come, little one,’ he said and placed a hand on my elbow, leading me forward, into the room he has just left.
I followed, for I had no choice.
*
The room he led me to was an opulent living space, timeless and elegant. An entire wall was a window, floor to ceiling. Greys and whites, interspersed with black hues formed the room’s colour scheme. A thick carpet, grey again, muffled our steps as St Just walked to the enormous couch set in the centre of the room, The room had high ceilings; I looked up and saw that it was high domed, a glass ceiling that would allow the sunlight into the room during the day.
An enormous painting gave the room its splash of colour, for it was in myriad shades of reds,
I sank down onto the couch he indicated.
*
St Just prowled across to a bar on one side, turning to me as he said, a mocking glint in his tawny eyes,
“Drink?”
I felt my face grow warm as I shook my head.
“You should have a glass of bubbly tonight,” he said and poured the champagne into a flute.
It was more of a command.
Carrying it over to me, he extended it and I looked up into his golden eyes, narrow, hard and unflinching.
I accepted it mutely and sat, holding it, my head bowed. And nearly jumped as he settled beside me, an arm across the back of the couch I was resting against.
Fighting back the urge to sit up straight, I forced myself to relax but I knew that his gaze was on my profile, moving down to my breasts as he raised a long finger and began to play with my hair.
*
“Are you scaring our little pet already Saint?” came a low voice from the doorway and I looked up.
Laim O’Grady stood there, dark hair damp from a shower, dressed in black, like a medieval prince of darkness. Masculinity radiated off his body.
My breath came faster. St Just had left me panicky. This man made my pulse hammer for other reasons.
He smiled slowly, noting my reaction.
“Are you good, pet?’ he said in that low growl ad I nodded.
“Yes…Sir” I said softly and he gave a low laugh, a laugh of pleasure.
St Just drawled, jeering,
“She’s a fast learner, Liam.”
‘Did you get her a drink?’ asked O’Grady as he strode to the bar to fetch his drink, moving fluidly, like a panther that had spotted its prey in its sights.
I sat up straight and he chuckled as he came towards us. But to my relief, he did not sit beside me. Instead, he reclined on the couch opposite me, his eyes on me, travelling the length of my body and I felt my face grow hot.
“Drink,” he said softly and I looked at him, beseechingly.
“Go on, “growled St Just and I took a sip. The bubbles tickled my nose and I sneezed, once, twice.
Both the men laughed, but it was St Just who pulled out a large white handkerchief and handed it to me.
“Here,” he said, not unkindly.
I dabbed at my nose and mouth delicately.
“Drink again,” said O’Grady,” Slower this time.”
It was more of a command now and I sipped, letting the flavours of the drink slowly explode in my mouth, savouring it.
I was still tense and when O’Grady nodded at me and said in a hoarse voice, “Stand up,” I hesitated just a fraction. Then, I rose, keeping the flute carefully on the side table.
‘O’Grady’s eyes were burning as he grunted,
“Turn around, girl. Slowly.”
And then, in a callous, almost cruel way, he added,
“We need to inspect the merchandise.”
I hung my head and then obeyed him, twirling gracefully. Pride made me raise my head and look them in the eye as I did it.
*
Liam O’Grady rose to his feet, leisurely and again, my eyes on his figure. The high cheeks, and the set square jaw, already dark with shadow, warned me that he had something on his mind.
He was dressed formally, in a crisp black suit but the shirt white shirt was open a the neck, revealing the crisp black hairs on his chest.
He stepped to me and said bluntly,
“I want to taste you, Pet.”