CHAPTER 45
“So, the whore is back. What a lovely surprise,” Gabor says in Hungarian, rubbing his hands together as he roams his eyes over Rebecca’s slender figure with sadistic hunger. His expression hardens as he turns his attention to me. “But I did tell you to get rid of her, Janos, and you clearly didn’t.” He gestures his hand up and down the living proof that I disobeyed. He lets the statement hang in the air as if to enhance the implicit threat, but it doesn’t faze me.
I stare back at him. “You also told me to clean up your messes and stop you if you went too far.”
Gabor’s jaw twitches. He knows I’m right, but he can’t let this blatant display of disobedience go—not for his own pride and not for his reputation. But I’m prepared to take the consequence as long as he directs it at me and not Rebecca.
“I must say, I’m impressed by your boldness, bringing her back here.” He goes to a side table to pour two glasses of scotch. “And I’m curious to know why you’d be so stupid to bring her back here. It’s not like you, Janos.” He hands me a tumbler and returns to lean against the desk, taking a sip of his glass as he waits for an explanation.
Taking my time, I take a sip of the rich liquor and set the glass aside before speaking. “The girl came back to me.” I shrug. “Figured it was my turn to have fun with her.”
Gabor breaks out into a laugh and slams his glass onto the table. “The bitch came back?” With three long strides, he closes the distance to Rebecca and grabs her jaw. He keeps going in Hungarian as he lifts her head and studies her. “The whores do tend to latch on to you, Janos. And this one in particular. But I want to know the real reason why you brought her here.” He turns his head to look at me. “You could have finished her off or dumped her in some drug den. Why flaunt your disobedience in my face like this?” His grip on Rebecca’s jaw hardens as he says the last words, drawing a whimper from her.
“I want to buy her,” I say.
His jaw tics as he turns his head to watch Rebecca, then looks back at me. “Buy her? This cunt?”
I shrug. “She was a lot of fun.”
“Indeed, she was.” Gabor leans back to take in her slim figure. Then he releases her jaw and slaps her across the face, and I rein in the urge to rush to Rebecca as she yelps and cups her cheek. “But not that fun.”
Grabbing Rebecca’s jaw again, he looks me over with suspicion in his eyes. “You did always seem protective of her.”
I shrug. “She got to me. Like she got to you.”
His expression tightens. He doesn’t like me reminding him how he lost control—nearly brought Rebecca to Germany, considered having me killed for stopping him from cutting her feet, and then killing that other girl. Loss of control is a weakness to Gabor. And so are emotions.
“Did you fuck her?” he asks.
I don’t hesitate. “Yes,” I say. Lying would anger him worse than anything.
His eyes go deadly as he watches me, and Rebecca’s breathing speeds up as he digs his fingers into her jaw. This is the pivotal moment that determines the outcome of this deal. My whole system is on high alert even as I remain relaxed in the chair, ready to pounce if Gabor tries something.
“If this gets in the way of business, I’ll kill her myself. And I’ll make you watch,” Gabor says, nostrils flaring.
I don’t doubt him for a second. Gabor’s business is everything to him. Like a child he has nurtured and brought up and molded to his liking. The same way he has with me. That’s why he won’t kill me, and that’s why there’s a chance he’ll let me keep my “toy.”
“It won’t,” I say as readily as my confession. This is where Gabor and I differ. He sometimes struggles to retain control, and that’s probably why he was so adamant about teaching me the importance of it—and why he respects me so much.
Rebecca is stiff with tension as we hover in this moment of uncertainty. She senses the danger crackling in the air even though she doesn’t understand our exchange. Even as I don’t remove my attention from Gabor, I sense her anxiety. I can hear it in her shallow, rapid breaths and the staggered long ones as she struggles to keep off the ledge of panic. Good girl, I want to tell her. But this is not the time.
Gabor’s jaw tightens, and he turns to look at Rebecca.
This is it,I think. The moment where I have to choose. Snapping Gabor’s neck or putting Rebecca to sleep. Breaking the bond that I’ve based my whole life on or breaking the bond that runs deeper than any other.
I can’t make that choice.
And I don’t have to.
Gabor glances back at me and erupts in a loud laugh as he holds up both hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Janos. I won’t take your fucking toy from you. You’re like a goddamn pit bull with a bone.” He gives Rebecca a sideways look and adds, “Though, technically, it’s my bone. But I guess you’ve deserved a reward for being such a good boy.” He shakes his head and chuckles as he goes to pour another glass of scotch, and relief is like a tidal wave, making me sink back in the chair.
“How about this? One hundred million forint,” Gabor offers.
I’ll pay twice the amount, but Gabor’s gaze is too focused. It’s too easy. He wants a bit of rebuttal. Some resistance. Agreeing this soon would be a weakness in his eyes, and the deal would drop instantly.
I scoff. “A hundred million for a scratched-up toy? Have you seen her body?” I go to Rebecca and lift her blouse to reveal the canvas of scars that is her torso. Her pained whimper cuts my soul. To her, those scars are a weakness, but I’ll show her what they truly are. Strength. A testament of what she has survived.
“You’ve got a point.” Gabor leans against his desk and takes a sip of his scotch as he watches Rebecca over the rim of his glass. I’m still holding her blouse up, and I can feel her growing smaller with every passing second Gabor takes in her scars. But I can’t think about her emotions right now. I’ll have plenty of time to mend whatever damage I’m making when I walk out of here with her as mine.
“But I am gonna miss out on a lot of fun, so I can’t go cheap.”
Gabor shifts to English as he comes to stand in front of Rebecca and traces a finger over one of the more severe scars. “I’ll cut you a deal,” he says. “Fifty million for the scratched-up whore, and I get to use her however I want—shall we say… once a week?”
“Once a month, and you don’t damage her,” I counter.
“You know I can’t have any fun without a little pain, Janos.”
“Sixty million, once a month, and I’ll hurt her while you fuck her.”
My dick stirs in my pants. The idea of him fucking her while I’m hurting her turns me on more than it should. I’ve always gotten more off on the power and the pain than the fucking itself. That’s why I didn’t take Rebecca for myself that day when I saw her at the restaurant. I didn’t simply want to overpower her, slap her around a little, and fuck her. Part of me wanted to see true pain in those innocent eyes.
Little did I know how much that pain would hurt me when Gabor went overboard.
But regret is not something I allow myself. It doesn’t do any good, so I shut down the nagging emotion and focus on what’s in front of me—sparing Rebecca more of that pain.
Gabor’s expression darkens as he contemplates, and I think he’s going to refuse my offer and insist on inflicting the pain himself. My head churns to come up with a counteroffer good enough to get her out of it. So when he makes his next offer that doesn’t involve her, I don’t hesitate for a second.
“Seventy million, I get to use the whore once a month while you hurt her, starting today, and you pay for your disobedience. Two fingers. One for not getting rid of her and one for fucking her without permission.”
“No,” Rebecca blurts, no longer able to hold it together. I feel her eyes flickering back and forth between us with frantic desperation as I hold out my hand and Gabor takes it.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” I say. Then I grab Rebecca’s arm before her trembling knees cave in and lead her to the door. I want to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay and this is one of the good outcomes I could have hoped for, but I can’t show any weakness. I can’t let him see that she’s my weakness. So I stick to rubbing my thumb across her inner arm where no one will see, and her rigid muscles soften somewhat.
I open the door and call out for Anton. “Take her to the living room and keep an eye on her until I come,” I say.
I’m almost expecting Rebecca to burst into desperate words of begging and pleading when the burly guard grabs her arm and steers her down the corridor. But she’s such a good girl, smart and obedient, knowing that kind of behavior would do more harm than good—knowing to trust me.
In this moment, I know for certain that keeping her was the right choice. The only choice.