Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
ELLIE
W hen Arman left, it was as if I could breathe again. For the past hour, I’ve done nothing but sit on the white couch overlooking the skyline and think about what happened today.
Of all the things that happened, one thing stood out head and shoulders above the rest.
I met my mother.
I hate her.
For so many years, I imagined our first meeting. I always knew it would happen. It was inevitable.
I never expected what happened though.
She pretended I was dead.
She kept away from me willingly and she looked at me as if I terrified her.
Their conversation may as well have been in a foreign language because I could only hear the sounds of my hopes and dreams crashing and burning.
I was alone before I met her, but now even hope has left me.
Then there’s Arman.
He walked away too. I went down on my knees for him and he walked away. I wanted to more than anything, but now I just feel cheap.
I am my mother.
I am a whore.
It’s in my blood.
So many thoughts are cascading around my mind, reminding me how clueless I am and I really should pay a visit to the convent for my own sanity.
An abrupt knock on the door makes me jump and I hate that my heart flutters as it prays that Arman walks through the door.
It sinks when Luka strides inside and casts his enigmatic stare in my direction.
“Mr. Romanov wants you to order whatever you need.”
He thrusts a laptop into my hands, along with a platinum credit card.
“You are to order clothes for every occasion, any accessories, skincare, make-up and shoes. On the laptop is a list of shops you are authorized to order from. Use this card.”
He glances at his designer wristwatch and growls, “An outfit will be delivered later this afternoon. You are to meet him in the living area at seven pm. He has reservations for dinner and you will accompany him.”
I open my mouth to speak, but his enigmatic glare in my direction silences any words I may have prepared. Luka scares the panties off me and I want him to leave. Immediately.
He sweeps his gaze around the room and as he turns, he says over his shoulder, “Do not attempt to leave this penthouse. Your life may still be in danger.”
He turns and holds out his hand.
“Give me your phone.”
“No!”
My eyes flash as I tighten my grip on the one thing I have left, and he doesn’t even falter and heads toward me, grabbing my wrist in a sudden move that causes my fingers to relax and the phone drops into his other hand.
I stare in amazement at the way my body reacted to the move, and he grins cockily. “Pressure points, Miss Adams. An interesting and extremely useful skill to master. Ask me nicely, and I may give you some tips.”
“Why my phone?” I managed to squeak and he shrugs.
“Standard procedure. It will be returned when you leave.”
As he heads to the door, he half turns. “Your lunch is waiting in the dining room, and Mr. Romanov expects you to finish it.”
As he leaves, I sit silently fuming because what the hell. I have no words. It’s as if they’ve taken over my life and are in charge now. I hate that I’m not putting up much of a fight because they are all I’ve got and at least I have somewhere to sleep. It’s free, I guess, but something is telling me nothing here is free. I am paying a heavy price and they are rattling the cage to my soul and it will only take one sudden move and they will claim that too, if it’s not already theirs to own.