Chapter 13
S amara
I woke up in my loft.
The night before was a traumatic, fucked up blur. I can’t ever remember being so overwhelmed. By the time Gregor had finished with me I was so emotionally and physically exhausted, I passed out.
That’s actually not true. Why lie to myself? I passed out from oral sex.
From oral sex, not actual sex… just the touch of his mouth!
I passed out from utter sated exhaustion… from a mind-blowing orgasm.
That it came after he humiliated me and caused me pain just added to the twisted, fucked up situation I found myself in.
And the worst part is, if that man ordered me to my knees again, I’d probably have done it.
Fuck. My. Life.
I remember Gregor lifting me in his arms and carrying me out of the museum, not one guard stopped or questioned him. I can only remember little bits and pieces of the time in the limo. The only glaring thing I do recall is spending the entire time on his lap.
After that, nothing.
With a sudden thought, I lifted the sheet and looked down at my body.
I was naked.
Damn him.
Rubbing my eyes, I swung my feet off the bed. It felt like I had a hangover, even though I barely drank two glasses of champagne.
A small piece of paper caught my eye. I picked up the note.
Drink.
It was written in an aggressive, slanting penmanship. A man’s hand.
Next to the note was a glass of water and two aspirin.
With a resigned sigh, I drained the glass of water, more than a little annoyed he knew I would need one.
As I stood, I noticed the curtains, which I usually forgot about, were drawn tight. My favorite big cozy sweater and a pair of yoga pants were laid out on my vanity chair.
Looking around, I quickly pulled the sweater over my head and scrambled to push my legs into the pants.
It suddenly occurred to me he might still be here.
Instinctively, I reached under my pillow for my revolver. It wasn’t there. I then remembered that Gregor probably still had it.
After pulling on a pair of socks, I inspected the rest of the loft.
It was empty.
Had he left me alone?
Wasn’t he worried I’d run?
On the kitchen counter was a plate with a note next to it.
Eat.
On the plate were some fresh orange slices and a croissant. There was also a glass of what looked like cranberry juice. Turning away, I headed to the coffeemaker.
On the stove was a frying pan with a note resting on the lid. I picked it up.
I mean it, Samara.
Opening the lid, I found there were scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and some sautéed potatoes.
“What the hell?” I said out loud to no one.
Considering my refrigerator had only a half-eaten container of lo men and a single stick of butter, he would have had to have gone out for all this.
And I slept through the entire thing?
Had he slept next to me, too?
I rushed back to my bed. Falling onto the mattress with my knees, I leaned down and sniffed the pillow next to mine. It didn’t smell like his cologne.
Standing, I paced.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the easel in the center of my painting area was empty. The painting of the falling girl was gone; so were the stacks of my other paintings.
There was another note taped to the wooden crossbeam of the easel.
I have an unavoidable morning meeting.
Pack up the rest of your things and meet me at the below address at Noon.
And Samara, don’t do anything stupid.
G -
P.S. I’m keeping the paintings.
Crumpling the note in my fist, I kicked the easel in frustration, instantly regretting it when it toppled to the side, taking another easel with it.
My front door swung open at the sound of the crash.
Two men dressed in black shirts and cargo pants with visible gun holsters strapped around their shoulders entered my loft.
I screamed and backed away. Picking up one of my paint brushes as a weapon, I waved it uselessly in front of me.
“Are you alright, Miss Federova? We heard a crash.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Your security. Mr. Ivanov’s orders. When you’re ready to leave, we are to assist with your bags and take you to his home,” answered one of the guards.
Well, I guess that answered my questions as to why Gregor was confident enough to leave me alone.
“I’m fine.”
Both men nodded and stepped back into the hallway, closing the door—and my only exit—behind them.
Throwing the note on the floor, I walked away in a huff. What I needed was a long, hot shower. I would figure out my next move later.
Entering the bathroom, I leaned over the tub and turned the nozzle for the shower. As I straightened, I noticed yet another note on the mirror.
We will talk about your Betty Boop tattoo later.
My hand flew to my left hip, where just over the hip bone was a Betty Boop tattoo. She was in her classic red dress, kicking one leg into the air. Tucked into her heart-shaped garter was a tiny revolver.
Damn him.
After showering, I wrapped my hair in a towel and sat at my vanity. With my pale neck and upper chest exposed, I could see just the faintest bruise around my throat. Whether it was from his hand or his belt, I couldn’t say.
With a sigh, I picked up my blush brush and tried to add some color back into my cheeks. Bright cherry red matte lipstick and my hair down with a red chiffon scarf tied around my neck completed my look.
There . Nobody’d ever know I’d spent the evening with a powerful criminal who 50 Shades of Grey ’ed me to within an inch of my life.
After throwing on a pair of cuffed jeans and a white t-shirt, I slipped on a pair of red ballet slippers, then walked into the kitchen and dumped the skillet with the eggs straight into the trash. I felt a rush of satisfaction marred by guilt, knowing I had just acted like a petulant child.
No wonder he treats you like a misbehaving little girl , I thought.
And spanks you like one, too.
I returned to my bedroom and snatched up the pink and black duffle bag lying in a corner.
As I was stuffing my sparse belongings into it, I noticed the leather portfolio with my extra IDs and cash was also missing.
It was going to make it hard accessing my offshore accounts without that information.
Damn him.
What was I doing?
Crossing my arms, I stubbornly stared down at the half-packed duffle bag before grabbing it and tossing it back into the corner.
There was no reason to pack anything because I wasn’t going anywhere with him.
He might have me against the wall now, but there had to be a way to escape.
I had done it once, I would do it again… and this time I’d make sure he never found me.