15. Yasmina
Yasmina
I spend the weekend in a strange sort of haze. I swim, I watch movies, I do my best to entertain myself until I pass out exhausted in my bed.
Every night, Jafar comes to me. He wakes me with a touch, a hand stroking down my spine or through my hair.
In the dark of my room, he explores my body with his hands and then his mouth, our respective silences making the entire experience feel like a fever dream.
It doesn’t matter if I’m riding his cock or if he’s driving me deeper into the mattress with the force of his thrusts.
It’s so surreal, I can almost convince myself I hallucinate the experiences.
Every morning, I wake to find him gone except for a note beside my bed.
By Monday, I’m going out of my fucking mind. I want to see him, to go another round of verbally sparring, to do something other than wait and try not to think too hard about the danger Jafar is in by hunting Ali.
I’m desperate for the distraction Tink represents, so I’m impatiently waiting for her when she walks through the elevator doors.
Today she’s dressed in a pair of flirty floral culottes that kick out with every step and a white lace top that only seems emphasized by the bra I can see through it.
She gives me a look that’s almost an apology, and it’s the only warning I have before a second woman pushes another rack of clothing into the penthouse.
Even in everyday clothing, I’d recognize Meg anywhere.
She wears a black jumpsuit that dips low between her breasts, offering a flash of pale skin that is all the more tantalizing because it’s the only thing remotely scandalous about her outfit.
She offers me a slow smile. “I hope you don’t mind my crashing the party. ”
Tink snorts and sets to work getting the racks arranged how she wants them. “As if we have a choice. You’re the boss lady.”
“Hardly.” Meg lifts one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “We all answer to Hades.”
She seemed happy enough to stand at his right hand the other night, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that appearances can be deceiving. It’s a whole new world out there, and I can’t afford to assume anything. “Good afternoon, Meg.”
“So proper, this one.” She shares a telling glance with Tink. “We’re not on the books right now. You can relax.”
Somehow, I don’t think that’s remotely the truth.
I wonder if Jafar knows Meg planned on showing up when he’s not around, and I suspect he wouldn’t like it.
I open my mouth to tell her as much but stop myself.
We’re in Jafar’s penthouse, and no doubt the exits are all watched by guards and more cameras than I care to think about.
It’s not as if Meg can knock me over the head and smuggle me off to a secondary location.
I finally perch on the edge of the couch across the one she’s sprawled over. “You have a reason for being here.”
“Do I?” She stops playing with her hair and gives me a slow grin that sends my stomach tumbling over itself. “Maybe I just wanted to play, Yasmina. You’re a gorgeous girl, and watching Jafar fuck you was really something else.”
My skin heats at the thought of what kind of games she could mean, but it’s a distant feeling. Not overwhelming like my desire for Jafar. I’m attracted to Meg. If Jafar arranged for us to play in the kind of scenario he described the other night, I would allow myself to be swept away.
But not like this. Not behind his back. I keep my spine straight and my expression even. “Tell me why you’re really here, or get out.”? 1
She considers me for a long moment and shrugs. Just like that, all signs of seduction disappear, and she goes cold in a way that has me realizing exactly how badly I’ve underestimated her. Meg leans forward and props her elbows on her knees. “I can get you out.”
I barely dare draw breath. I don’t let myself look to where Tink stands to the side, uncharacteristically silent. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a pretty bird locked in a prettier cage.” She flicks a hand to encompass the penthouse. “I can get you out.”
“Freedom doesn’t feel much like freedom when I have nothing.” Jafar offered to release my trust fund. I don’t know that I trust him enough to believe that it’s not some kind of trap, but I certainly don’t trust Meg to offer something without a thousand strings attached.
She eyes me. “I’ll give you enough funds to get you going and a new identity that can pave the way for a fresh start. You show every evidence of being a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll land on your feet if you give yourself the chance to.”
Temptation slithers through me. She’s the snake in the Garden of Eden, whispering about a world I’ve only glimpsed through the wall that surrounds me. Offering me freedom that might be anything but. “There’s a catch.”
“The only catch is that you leave Carver City and don’t come back. I can cover your trail so no one will find you as long as you’re not an idiot.”
Her plan unfurls before me, and I can almost admire her for the move.
Without me here, playing the part of the war prize, Jafar’s position will be weakened.
I doubt it’s enough to oust him completely, but it means that he’ll be challenged.
Repeatedly. It will keep him busy enough that he won’t be able to look to expand until he’s ground up every bit of rebellion within his own territory.
I tilt my head to the side. “You have no reason to think Jafar won’t be happy with what he has.”
“Smart little thing, aren’t you?” A little respect filters into her blue eyes.
“Jafar was born hungry. He might be satisfied with what he has for a few years, but eventually he’ll start eyeing the territory boundaries and pushing against the other players.
He’ll take Hook first, because it’s the smallest amount of ground to cover, but that will only buoy him.
” She shakes her head. “We don’t exactly have peace in Carver City, but what we have is close enough to it.
No one is allowed to rock the boat. Not even Jafar. ”
On the surface, it makes sense, but… Something’s still off. “What price?”
Meg doesn’t blink. “What price can you put on freedom? No, Yasmina. No price, no deal. Just an offer that’s mutually beneficial.”
I don’t know if I believe her. Does it make sense to undermine Jafar now rather than wait until he’s secured his base?
Yes, most definitely. But after Tink’s talk about Hades’s deals—and this offer can only come from Hades, for all that it’s Meg’s mouth forming the words—I can’t help thinking that there’s another shoe waiting to drop. That when it does, it will crush me.
Either way, I’d be a fool to turn her down completely. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure.” Another of those graceful shrugs. “But the offer expires in seven days, so think fast.”? 2 She pushes to her feet and smiles. “See you around, Yasmina.”
I don’t move until the elevator doors close behind her, and even then, I count to ten slowly before I let the steel bleed out of my spine and slump back against the couch. “Is it always like that with her?”
Tink snorts. “Usually, it’s worse.” She gives herself a shake.
“Rumor has it that Meg was like you when she first got to Carver City. A princess, for all intents and purposes, though she left everything to flee…I don’t know.
Something. It’d have to be bad to rattle her .
” She flips through the racks and tosses me a dress.
“She found her way to Hades and made a deal.”
I drop my robe and pull on the dress. It’s a style actually suitable for day wear, a sheath dress in a cream that looks good with my darker coloring. “What kind of deal?”
“Dunno. Hades doesn’t exactly proclaim the terms from the top of the tallest tower.” She eyes me. “That’s a keeper. Try this one.”
Another dress, this one a deep red that’s fitted through the torso and flares out around my hips, the hem stopping just past my knees. “I like it.”
“Of course you do. I picked it for you.” She waits for me to strip out of it and sets it aside in the pile. “But anyway, that was before my time. As long as I’ve been around, it’s Meg and Hades, Hades and Meg.”? 3
I give myself a few moments to indulge in the fantasy of being the right hand to a man like that. To Jafar. Meg and Hades are as close to equals as I’ve ever seen. Maybe they even are equals, their relationship originating in a deal or no.
Jafar and I will never get there. He’s too intent on keeping me closed in, keeping me safe, simply keeping me. “There’s something romantic about that.”
“If you say so.” She shrugs and passes over another garment.
“I’m not going to tell you not to take her offer, but be careful, princess.
Meg can be cool, but she’s as much about the bottom line as Hades.
A deal is a mess, but at least they’ll honor their part of it.
Once Hades gives his word, it’s as good as done. This offer stinks.”
I’m inclined to agree, but having an escape hatch is attractive in a way I can’t put into words. This is the first time in my life I’ve had actual options, albeit ones that aren’t overly attractive. I can stay with Jafar, continue to be his… I’m not even sure what I am to him.
Prize. Statement. Submissive.
He’s not a complete monster. He treats me well enough, but that could very well be linked to wanting to keep me docile so I’ll keep fucking him.
I press my fingertips to my temples. “This whole thing hurts my head.”
“I don’t envy you. My deal is shit, but at least it’s straightforward.”? 4
I open my mouth to ask what her deal is but reconsider at the last moment. If she wants me to know, she’ll tell me. “What would you do?”
“Can’t tell you that.” Tink pulls out a dress, looks at it, and puts it back on the rack. “You have to make the choice you can live with, whatever that looks like.”
She’s right. It’s a choice I have to make for myself, for better or worse.
I manage a smile. “I appreciate you being frank with me.”