22. Adriana
22
ADRIANA
The boat bounces on the waves while tears stream down my cheeks. One of the men pushes me roughly.
“Sit down, bitch.”
“Hey,” another one snaps. “The boss said not to be rough with her. If there are any marks on her, woe betide who put them there.”
“Are you taking me to Dorian?” My voice shakes. Then I recall he’s not free anymore.
“Who?” The man I assume is the leader, the one who told the rough one off, frowns.
“Ari?” I ask.
“Lady, all I know is we’re getting you to the airport, and a private jet will take it from there.”
A jet? Oh God, the auction.
They’re going to sell me.
Hopelessness washes over me, so deep I want to jump into that cold, bottomless ocean instead of face what comes next. I can’t, though. I must stay alive. I have to make sure Cade is okay, and I have to get through this so I can have a life.
This can’t be the end for me. I won’t let it be.
I’ve had sex now. Just how bad can it be to go through the motions with someone else? I know logically, it won’t be sex, not really; it will be rape, but if I don’t resist, they might not hurt me. Maybe I can close my eyes and think of Dimitri. Try to make it less horrific, and maybe I can survive.
Maybe Dimitri and I don’t have a future, but he gave me a precious gift. After years of feeling alone and unmoored, he showed me, if only for a blindingly brief moment in time, that real connection can happen. He showed me what pleasure my body could bring.
I can find that again one day if I can get free. How long do you stay with someone after being sold? I doubt it’s a lifelong contract but probably a long enough time to give me the chance to escape, and I’d never stop trying. Once free, I can get a job. Have a career, a husband, bring up Cade.
I just need to survive. Whatever comes next, I must survive, and I will never stop looking for a way out.
The boat finally comes to a stop in a small, secluded cove. I’m bundled off it, a dark blanket thrown over me, and then I’m in the back of a car.
The journey seems to last forever with my sight being compromised, but eventually, the car rolls to a halt. The blanket is removed, and I see men on either side of me, weapons trained on me.
One of the men hands me two pills and a bottle of water.
“I don’t want them,” I say. “You might be trying to kill me.”
He sighs and clenches his jaw. “Trust me; the last thing we want is to touch a hair on your head. We have been told to deliver you in pristine condition.”
His words are not a comfort.
“But I will force these down your throat if I must.”
I take the pills and swallow them with the proffered water.
Within five minutes, I can’t keep my eyes open.
“She’s going out,” one of the men says. “Let’s load her up.”
One of the men picks me up, cradling me like a child almost, and the blanket is wrapped around me again. They’re being awfully gentle.
My eyes open and close a few times. I see plane steps. I’m carried up them, head lolling. It’s a private jet. Opulent. I’m carefully deposited in a seat, arranged so they can put my seat belt on me, and covered in the blanket.
Nice treatment for a woman about to be sold like cattle. The men waiting for me really want me to be returned to them in perfect condition. The bastards. What will happen when they find out I’m no longer a virgin? Will they kill me? Fear washes over me, but the sleep trying to claim me is strong.
Then we’re taxiing, and I lose the battle. The dark claims me.
Metal. All I can taste is metal. It’s coating my mouth and throat. I want to retch, but I’m so exhausted I can barely move.
“Would you like a drink?” The voice is female. Accented. Polite.
“Where am I?”
“I’ll fetch the master, but do you want a drink first?” The woman smiles at me, cool and aloof.
Master? What the hell? Where am I?
I struggle to sit up. I see that I’m in a beautiful room. Heavy silk curtains frame old windows, falling to the floor in wave after wave of golden fabric. The walls are papered in William Morris printed, thick embossed paper.
William Morris? That is familiar. Why?
Glancing down at my body, I see my top half sticking out of the thick covers and give a small cry. “Who undressed me?”
I’m wearing a long, silk champagne-colored nightdress with spaghetti straps. It means someone got me naked and then put this on me.
“I did, Miss Adriana. Another female member of staff and myself cleaned you and got you changed.” She smiles again. “Don’t worry; no man has touched you.”
That isn’t as reassuring as she thinks, not with what else she said. “ Cleaned me?”
“You smelled of a long flight.” She smiles softly. “We bathed you.”
“How? How the hell did you lift me into a bath?”
She laughs. “We used the bed bath method, miss. I was a nurse, and I know how to bathe someone who is unconscious.”
That’s common assault right there. This woman is mad, and I barely believe she was a nurse in her previous existence.
“What are you now?”
“Your maid, Miss Adriana.”
What the fuck?
“Where the hell am I?” I shout, my fear overriding my usual people-pleasing politeness. I try to get out of the bed, but the room lurches alarmingly.
“Let me get the master.”
“Who the hell is the master? Where am I?”
Smiling still in that awful, vacant way she has, she shrugs. “I can’t answer your questions, miss. The master will.”
She leaves the room, and I touch my skin. It feels soft. I bend my head and sniff my arm. Scented body lotion. Oh my God. I feel violated. These women bathed me, put lotion on me, and dressed me. All while I was unaware.
The door opens, and I gasp in surprise.
“Oh my God.” Tears flood my eyes. “ Barnaby . How? Oh, God. You saved me? From the men who took me? How?”
I forget my fear as a wave of familiarity washes over me. I’m not even wondering what the hell is going on anymore. All I feel is relief because this is Barnaby and somehow, he must have saved me. I’m not angry now at Sian for involving him because damn it, it worked.
I wonder where she is, but perhaps he wanted to talk to me first. It makes sense. I finally find the strength to push the covers off and stand. As I run from the bed toward him, I stumble a little on woozy legs and throw my arms around him.
He holds me to him and kisses the top of my head for a long moment, breathing me in as he does. I wriggle in his arms a little as he holds me for a long time.
“I must say, my dearest darling, I didn’t expect quite such a relieved welcome. I rather thought you’d gone and fallen for the thug.”
“Thug?”
“The Bratva kingpin.”
I frown. “No. I mean … no.” I don’t want to talk to him about that. Sian yes; him, no.
My mouth is so furry and dry. I want a drink, and I want Sian. Barnaby stares at me with his intelligent eyes, and he’s smiling, but it’s different to his usual smile. It’s odd. A smile at my expense, it seems to me, not a smile for me. As if he’s in on a joke I don’t understand.
“I’m confused,” I say. “I was taken from the yacht to be sold at auction. How did you know? How did you save me? Did you rescue me at the airport?”
“Come, let’s get you back in the bed.”
He leads me to the bed and sits me down. His fingers stroke down my arm when I settle back against the headboard, so tired it’s making me feel sick.
“Where is Sian? I’m dying to see her.” I will feel better with her here; this is starting to give me a strange vibe.
“She had to leave suddenly. For Italy. Her grandmother is very sick.”
“Oh, no, Nonna Florentine?” I know how much Sian loves her.
He smiles softly. “Yes, her nonna.”
“Barnaby, I don’t understand.”
He gently pulls the covers over me.
“We will talk tomorrow.”
“Can I call Dimitri and let him know I’m safe?”
The sharp crack rents the air. My cheek stings, and I stare at him in shock. He hit me . Barnaby hit me! My best friend’s dad, the man who said I was like his second daughter, hit me!
I touch my cheek and immediately start to cry because I’m scared. I’m losing my mind. This must be a dream.
“Darling, girl. I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve waited so long, and I can’t bear to hear you speak his name. He sullied it all, but I still came for you. Because I love you.”
“You hit me,” I whisper.
“I will never do that again. Ever. I swear. I’ve been so beside myself. This was all going to plan. When I saw your name on that auction list, I knew that I couldn’t allow anyone to buy you. I spent two million American dollars to secure you. Then it all went wrong because of him. ”
He wasted two million dollars on a rescue mission that went wrong? I’m even more confused, and I suppose I can understand him being stressed.
Still, my cheek hurts, and him hitting me was unforgiveable.
Things aren’t adding up, though. Why did he take me from the yacht? Did Sian know he was doing this?
“You spent two million dollars to free me?”
“To save you. Your virtue. Your beauty. Your innocence.” He smiles. “And now you’re here, where you belong, my precious darling.”
His words are wrong. Sticky with something dark and sick. “Barnaby, you’re like a second father to me,” I say sternly.
“You’re like a daughter to me. In some ways. Not so much in others. You’ll learn to see me differently. In time.”
“Barnaby, what have you done?” Horror tinges my words. I don’t think he saved me. I think he bought me.
“I’ve brought you home to me. You will be the princess to my prince.”
My mind is so shattered that it stalls on that one thing. “You’re not a prince,” I say. “You told me you were a marquess.”
“In England, I am a marquess. However, in a very small European principality, I would have been a prince if that line had continued. Except, my family fled here when the royals were banished for being dreadful rogues. Hence my British ancestry becoming so important. It’s my nickname still, in many European capitals.”
“Prince?”
“Yes, my darling. The Prince. And now I have my princess. Like every good fairy tale.”
“Barnaby—”
“Barnie, please.”
“Barnie, I have to leave.” My voice cracks. “I need to help Cade.”
“We can bring Cade here.”
“You will?” This shocks me, and for a moment, it makes me wonder anew if this is a dream. I was given drugs; perhaps I haven’t woken up yet, and my mind is focusing on Cade because I’m so worried about him.
“Whatever my princess wants, she gets. I’ll give you it all, Adriana. I will pluck the stars from the skies, and let you bring Cade here, and I will make you a marchioness. All I ask in return is to be allowed to worship you.” He sits by me and shocks me when he cups my breast and moans.
I freeze. My entire body goes icy cold.
“Too soon. I’m sorry, my love. You’re just such an astonishing temptation. What a wicked delight you truly are.”
“Barnie,” I sob. “I can’t. You … you’re Sian’s father. This is wrong. She’ll be so hurt. I don’t see you that way.”
He merely smiles. “You will. I’ll train you. We’ll start soon, once you’ve rested. I’ll make your body respond to me like a finely tuned instrument. I’ve done it before, a long time ago. You can condition responses. Did you know that? It’s fascinating.”
His words are insane. Madness. His eyes are almost glowing with the desire he has for me. Desire he’s hidden for so long. “How?” I demand. “How did you pretend for so long?”
“I had my whores to slake myself on. I’d go through them at twice the rate whenever you stayed. Dark haired girls, with pale skin. But they weren’t you. Their eyes were empty. Their tits were too small. Their hair didn’t shine. Now, I have you, and in time you will love me the way I want you to.”
“Like a wife?”
“Like my wife yes, but also like my special whore. My most perfect, beautiful whore, who will respond so elementally to the things I want.”
The tears are back.
“Don’t cry, darling. It’s a good thing. Some men leave their wives because they can’t see them as the sexual woman they want. The wife is good. The lover or whore is bad and sinful. I had the same issue with my wife. I couldn’t, you know … perform, after a while. She was the mother of my child. The good woman. I could get it up for the whores, but I despised them. Then I saw you, and that first day, I knew you’d be it. The only woman to complete me. You see, you’re both. You’re innocent, yet so seductive. You’re pure, yet sinful. You have the face of an angel and the body only the Devil himself could have designed. You’re going to be my perfect partner. It will be beautiful. You’ll see.”
The tears continue to fall. They won’t stop. This is hell. He’s offering me everything I could want and giving me a chance to save Cade, but my entire being recoils at what he wants from me.
He sighs. “I’m getting a little irritated now. I’ve told you that I will worship you. I will give you more than any woman could want. Sian will grow used to this, and your best friend will become your family for real Cade can come and live with us. It will be perfect. I must go now as there is so much to sort. You need some time to rest, calm down, and think. I will try to be more patient. It will be wonderful; you’ll see.”
He gives a soft, deep chuckle.
It pops his dimples, and I think he really is a handsome man, and he’s wealthy enough and powerful enough to keep me safe, and he’s said he’ll treat me like a queen. Most of all, he’ll let me keep Cade with us. Perhaps, in a different life, if he’d simply asked me, we could have started something. Instead, he’s done this terrible thing. His men shot at the staff on the yacht. He stole me away, abducted me. And he’s talking like a madman.
Even if I could contemplate it, my body yearns for another, perhaps even my heart if I’m being honest.
“I can see you’re not convinced. You will be. You will learn to desire me, need me, love me. First, however, you need rest. You can be assured that the next few days will just be about orientation and recovery. We won’t start your training yet. So put that out of your mind. Rest, my darling. If you need anything, there’s a bathroom via the blue door, and through that far door is another room, a living room. You can’t get out of this suite, though. The doors out to the corridor are locked and will be until you are happier with the situation.” He blows me a kiss, like the mad bastard he is. “Sleep tight, my beloved.”
I listen to the heavy key turn as he locks me within my prison.
I curl up in a ball and scream into the pillow. This cannot be happening. It just can’t.
In some ways, what he says is amazing … on paper. He can offer me safety. Money. Opulence. A home for Cade. There’s just one issue. I don’t want him in that way. When he touched me, I wanted to vomit. My body burns for just one man now.
Will that man even miss me? Will he care?
I think back to the way Dimitri made me feel and more tears fall. Then I shake myself. I dry my eyes. I won’t let the terror and the tears win. For now, I must try to keep my wits about me. If I can, I must find a way to get out of this situation, and maybe I can keep Barnaby at arm’s length for a while if I play the terrified damsel. That would buy me time.
Slipping out of the bed, I head to the window. The view is from very high in the house. This must be the top floor. Sian always said she was never allowed up here. The one time she went up the last flight of stairs, she found all the doors locked. I remember once wondering if her mum was still alive, but locked away in the attic like in Jane Eyre .
Now I know. This is where he brings his whores. And now I’m here.
I walk to the door leading into what he said is a living room. I step inside and let out a small moan of dismay.
The walls are lined with erotic art. Japanese erotica from hundreds of years ago. Some prints that look like the karma sutra. It’s all deeply erotic art, and maybe in another world, I’d be fascinated. It’s like the pictorial descriptions of some of the literature I have read, but right now, in this room, knowing this man wants to do these things with me, it makes me want to run. Women being fucked in every way. Whipped. Spanked. There’s even one of a woman with what looks like some sort of mythical creature.
The huge, red velvet sofa is mocking me. I wonder how many women Barnaby has fucked on it while surrounded by these pornographic images.
The painting that has me feeling as if I’m going to faint is the biggest of all, facing me on the far wall.
It’s what looks like a scene from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs , except Snow White is not all innocent and childlike. She’s reclined on a bed, a sensual woman with knowing eyes and a languid pose.
I can’t stop staring at it. It looks old, but it’s like looking through a mirror in time because the woman in that painting, the woman Barnaby screwed his whores in front of, is undeniably me.
I’m on his wall. He looked at an image of me as he fucked women he paid to pretend were me.
Now he has the real thing, and I know that if my situation was bad before, it’s a million times worse now.
I need to escape. I must get out of here.
The End