Chapter 31 Zoe
ZOE
Once we are all ready, the guards guide us along the palatial corridors of the grand palace. It’s quiet, only the sounds of our high heels echo across the marble. Eventually, we stop at gilded doors, and the guards open them and usher us into a grand dining room.
Sitting before us are about ten men of various ages and varying looks. Their eyes light up as they see us standing before them.
“Men, let me introduce you to the Bratva Jewels,” Nikolai says.
The room erupts into loud applause.
I want to be sick, and my eyes scan the exits, but all I see are glass windows and armed guards, and any hope starts to sink rapidly.
Gracie gives my hand a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispers, giving me a weak smile.
I know exactly how she’s feeling. I remember the first of Nikolai’s famous parties—thankfully I got a nice man who was gentle and loving, but some girls are not so lucky. I hope nothing happens to Gracie tonight. I don’t know what I’ll do if someone hurts her.
“These are the most beautiful women we have found across the globe,” Nikolai continues.
Women you have stolen, I say to myself. Do these men know that he kidnaps women? Do they even care? Probably not.
“They are here to serve you tonight, gentlemen.”
The men murmur about this.
“Ladies, please follow Dmitri. He will show you where the kitchen is so you can serve us dinner.” Nikolai turns and joins the rest of the men.
We dutifully shuffle after Dmitri into another room filled with chefs running around.
“You will take these plates out and place them in front of the man you would like to have for the night,” Dmitri says. “You will ask if they would like wine or anything else and you will give it to them.”
We follow his orders, grab a plate each, and walk back into the room.
My eyes scan the men quickly; if I am going to have to sleep with one of these men, I want one who looks like he might be kind.
I walk toward a young, nervous-looking blond man and stand behind him.
I wait and watch the other ladies come out.
Gracie stands behind an older, more distinguished-looking man; I hope he treats her well.
Once the girls are all out, we place the dome-covered dishes in front of the men.
I lean down and whisper into the blond man’s ear, asking if he would like anything.
He nods and asks for some red wine. I lean across the table, grab the bottle of red, and pour him a glass.
A timid hand tickles my thighs as I stand beside him.
“Sorry,” he says, looking up at me.
I give him a smile. “I am here for your pleasure.”
He nods and continues eating his meal.
I stand and look at the other girls. Some are in the men’s laps, some have hands up their skirts already, and some are being ignored. My eyes meet Gracie’s. She is standing frozen as her man’s hand wanders. I give her a reassuring smile, and she gives me one back.
I hate this, I hate this so much.
“Shall we head next door to enjoy dessert?” Nikolai asks the room once dinner is over.
Everyone gets up, and my guy holds his hand out to me.
I take it and we walk through the dining room into the next room, which is set up like a cigar lounge.
There are large armchairs and chaise lounges scattered around the room.
We take a seat away from the crowd. My guy looks nervous and is probably not much older than eighteen.
“What’s your name?” I ask, starting the conversation.
“Reece.”
“Are you nervous, Reece?”
He looks out over the room and watches the scenes unfolding in front of us. Men are starting to feast on their desserts, hands up skirts, lips on breasts, all the while talking and laughing with their friends as if it was no big deal.
“Yes.” He places his hand on my thigh, and I can feel him trembling.
“Why?”
He takes a deep breath. “My father ordered me to come tonight and told me I was old enough to be brought into men’s business.”
I place my hand on his knee, playing my part.
“You are very beautiful …” He turns and looks at me. “But … I have a girlfriend …” He looks a little sheepish about this as if being faithful was a crime.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Reece.”
He relaxes a little. “But my father expects me to … you know.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to have sex with me?”
His question takes me aback.
“Honestly?” I ask him, and he nods and pushes me on. “You are a very handsome guy, but no, I don’t want to.”
He looks confused. “Then why are you here?”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
His elbow nudges me. “Just so you know, I’m great at keeping secrets.”
I’m unsure whether I should trust him or not, so I stay silent.
“I do not like what my father does. I hate it and I never ever want to be like him,” Reece confesses, which shocks me. “But he has threatened to harm my mother if I don’t start learning his ways, and he will. What choice do I have?”
I can feel his pain. I pull him into my arms. He tenses but takes the embrace.
“I don’t want to be here, but I have no choice. My loved ones will be hurt.”
Reece pulls away from me. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?”
I go still. He wants to help me.
“Shit,” Reece curses.
I follow his line of sight and see the man by Gracie’s side staring at us. I can see the resemblance; he is very good-looking for an older man.
“Is that your father?”
Reece just nods.
“Okay, well let’s put on a show then.” My fingers find his chin, lifting it so he looks at me.
I can see the mild panic in his eyes. “I am going to make it look like we are kissing …” He tenses.
“No, no. We won’t, I promise. I’m going to kiss the side of your mouth, but we need to angle our heads so from his distance it looks like we are. ”
He lets out a sigh of relief.
“Then we will go back to your room, and your dad will assume you and I will … you know …”
Reece’s eyes light up at my idea. “Thank you,” he whispers.
I feel for him, I really do. He seems like a good guy, and this is a horrible situation.
“Okay, I’m going to kiss you now.” We lean into each other, and I wrap my hand around his neck and hold him in place.
His hands rest on either side of me and we stay like that for a couple of moments until we break away. His cheeks are flushed as if he really has been kissing me.
I place my hand in his and get up, pulling him through the room, past his father, and out the main door.
One of the guards escorts us down the long corridor and into a lavish bedroom, then closes the door.
We quickly lock it, relaxing as soon as it is shut.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask, heading toward the minibar. I take out two tumblers, fill them with vodka, and hand one to Reece.
He takes it willingly and knocks it back quickly.
“Want another?” I ask, and he nods. I give him mine, and he knocks that back. His cheeks are bright pink. I think the vodka is working. So, I pour him another glass, and he throws that back also. “Are you okay?”
He nods. “I just want to forget what I have seen today.”
I can see the pain etched on his face. “Do you want to talk about it? I mean, we have all night, remember you’re a young stallion.” I try to make light of the situation.
“No, it’s okay, it’s not like you can change anything.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Tell me about your girlfriend?”
He instantly lights up and tells me all about her.
How she is the daughter of their housekeeper and someone his father thinks is beneath him.
We talk and talk, and he gets progressively drunker and drunker.
We are both lying in bed. He’s kicked off his shoes, his suit jacket has been thrown haphazardly on the chair, his tie is thrown over the lamp, and he’s rolled the sleeves of his business shirt up.
“Reece.” I turn and hear him snoring ever so lightly. Poor guy, he’s passed out cold. I thank the powers that be that I chose him tonight. I just hope Gracie was as lucky with his father.
I hear a phone message beep, and my eyes notice his phone sitting on the bedside table. My heart starts to pump. Freedom, escape, Tomas, and Mateo. Carefully, I lean over Reece and pick up his phone. I touch it and it lights up. I swipe it, and it asks for a fingerprint to continue.
Shit, shit.
Then I look down to where Reece is snoring, I carefully pick up his thumb and press it against the screen so the phone unlocks.
I want to scream with excitement, but I can’t wake him up.
I quietly sneak out of the bedroom to the bathroom and dial Tomas’s number.
He has his phone plastered to him so he will probably pick it up first. I wait as it rings and rings.
Come on, I shout to myself, pleading that someone picks up the phone.
“This is Tomas.” His voice, his deep gravelly voice, answers the phone and my body instantly warms.
“Tomas, it’s me, Zoe,” I whisper into the phone.