by Anna Zaires
“Yes, I’m loving it,” she murmurs, her gaze returning to my face. “I’m learning so much about the topic.”
I inhale slowly and resume rubbing her neck. “Then you’ll have to educate me, my pet,” I say calmly, as if my body isn’t raging with the need to fuck her. “I’m afraid I skipped Psychology at Caltech.”
Nora’s smile turns sardonic. “You’re just a natural then, aren’t you?”
I hold her gaze silently, not bothering to reply. There’s no need for words. I saw her, I wanted her, and I took her. It’s as simple as that. If she wants to label our relationship, to make it fit some psychobabble definition, she’s free to do so.
She’ll just never be free of me.
After a few moments, she sighs and closes her eyes, leaning into my touch again. I can feel her muscles slowly relaxing as I massage her shoulders and neck. The challenging expression fades from her face, leaving her looking peculiarly young and defenseless. With her eyelashes fanning over her smooth cheeks, she seems as innocent as a newborn fawn, untouched by anything bad in life.
Untouched by me.
For a moment, I wonder what it would be like if things were different. If I were just a boy she met in school, like that Jake I took her from. Would she love me more? Would she love me at all? If I didn’t take her the way I did, would she have been mine?
It’s foolish to wonder about that, of course. I might as well speculate about time travel or what I’d do if the world came to an end. My reality doesn’t allow for what-ifs. What if my parents didn’t die and I finished Caltech? What if I’d refused to kill that man when I was eight? What if I’d been able to protect Maria? If I think about all that, I’ll go insane, and I refuse to let that happen.
I am what I am, and I can’t change.
Not even for her.
* * *
“I talked to my parents this afternoon,” Nora says as we sit down to dinner that evening. “They asked me again about visiting them.”
“Did they now?” I give her a sardonic look. “And is that all you talked to them about?”
Nora looks down at her salad plate. “I’m going to tell them soon.”
“When?” It pisses me off that she keeps acting like the baby doesn’t exist. “When you deliver?”
“No, of course not.” She looks up and frowns at me. “How do you know I didn’t tell them yet, anyway? Are you listening in on my conversations?”
“Of course.” I don’t listen in on everything, but I’ve eavesdropped a few times. Just enough to know that her parents remain in blissful ignorance of the latest development in their daughter’s life. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have Nora think all her conversations are monitored. “Did you expect me not to?”
Her lips tighten. “Yes, perhaps. Privacy being a basic human right and all that.”
“There’s no such thing as a basic human right, my pet.” I want to laugh at her naïveté. “That’s a made-up construct. Nobody owes you anything. If you want something in life, you have to fight for it. You have to make it happen.”
“Like you made my captivity happen?”
I give her a cool smile. “Precisely. I wanted you, so I took you. I didn’t sit around pining and wishing.”
“Or dwelling on the construct of human rights, apparently.” Her voice holds just the faintest edge of sarcasm. “Is that how you will raise our child? Just take what you want and don’t worry about hurting people?”
I inhale slowly, noting the tension in her features. “Is that what worries you, my pet?”
“A lot of things worry me,” she says evenly. “And yes, raising a child with a man who lacks a conscience is fairly high on the list.”
For some reason, her words sting. I want to reassure her, tell her that she’s wrong to worry, but I can’t lie to her any more than I can lie to myself.
I have no idea how I’m going to raise this child, what kind of lessons I’m going to impart. Men like me—men like my father—aren’t meant to have children. She knows it, and I know it too.
As though sensing my thoughts, Nora asks quietly, “Why do you even want this baby, Julian? Why is it so important to you?”
I look at her silently, unsure how to answer the question. There’s no good reason for this child to be as important to me as it is. No reason for me to want it as badly as I do. I should’ve been upset—or at the very least, annoyed—by Nora’s pregnancy, but instead, when Goldberg gave us the news, the emotion I felt was so foreign that I didn’t recognize it at first.
It was joy.
Pure, unadulterated joy.
For a brief, blissful moment, I was truly happy.
When I don’t respond, Nora exhales and looks down at her plate again. I watch as she cuts a piece of tomato and begins to eat her salad. Her face is pale and strained, yet each of her movements is so graceful and feminine that I’m hypnotized, completely absorbed by the sight of her.
I can watch her for hours.
When I first brought her to the island, the mealtimes were my favorite part of the day. I loved interacting with her, seeing her battle her fear and try to maintain her composure. Her stoic, fragile bravery had delighted me almost as much as her delicious body. She’d been terrified, yet I could see the calculation behind her timid smiles and shy flirting.
In her own quiet way, my pet has always been a fighter.
“Nora . . .” I want to take away her stress, her understandable worry, but I can’t lie to her. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. So when she looks up, I say only, “This baby is part you, part me. That’s reason enough for me to care.” And when she continues to look at me, her expression unchanging, I add quietly, “I’m going to do the best I can for our child, my pet. That much I can promise you.”
The corners of her lips lift in a fleeting smile. “Of course you will, Julian. And so will I. But will that be enough?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” I respond, and as Ana brings out the next course, we focus on the food and let the topic rest.
Chapter 12
Nora
“Did you see the girl who was brought here this morning?” Rosa asks during our usual walk. “Ana said she was handcuffed and everything.”
“What?” I give Rosa a startled look. “What girl? I went for a quick run before breakfast, and I didn’t see anything.”
“I didn’t see anything either. Ana told me she spotted her, and she’s really blond and beautiful. Apparently, Lucas Kent is keeping her in his quarters.” Rosa is clearly relishing imparting this bit of gossip. “Ana thinks she might’ve betrayed Señor Esguerra in some way.”
“Really?” I frown. “I don’t know anything about any of this. Julian didn’t mention it to me.” In general, since I hacked into Julian’s computer, he’s been telling me less about his business. I don’t know if that’s because he now distrusts me or because he’s trying to keep me as calm as possible in light of the pregnancy. I suspect it’s the latter, given how overprotective he is these days.
“Do you want to walk by Kent’s house to see?” Rosa’s eyes glitter with excitement. “Maybe we can peek in his window.”
I gape at her. “Rosa!” This is the last thing I would’ve expected from her. “We can’t do that.”
“Come on,” my friend cajoles. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you want to see who this blond girl is and why Kent’s got her?”
“I can just ask Julian about it. He’ll tell me.”
Rosa gives me a pleading look. “Yes, but I might die of curiosity before he does. I just want to see what Kent’s doing with her, that’s all.”
“Why?” I have no desire to see Julian’s right-hand man torture some unfortunate woman, and I have no idea why Rosa wants to witness something so disturbing. “If she betrayed Julian, it won’t be pretty.” My stomach lurches at the thought. Today is not one of my better days, nausea-wise.
Rosa flushes. “Just because. Come on, Nora.” Grabbing my wrist, she begins to tug me in the direction of the guards�
�� quarters. “Let’s just go over there. You’re pregnant, so no one will get mad at you for snooping.”
I let myself get towed behind her, flabbergasted by her inexplicable desire to play spy. Normally, Rosa displays little interest in matters concerning my husband’s criminal activities. I can’t fathom what’s behind her unusual behavior, unless . . .
“Are you interested in Lucas?” I blurt out, stopping and bringing us both to a halt. “Is that what this is all about?”
“What? No!” Rosa’s voice takes on a higher pitch. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
I stare at her, noting the brighter blush staining her cheeks. “Oh my God, you are interested.”
Rosa huffs and lets go of my wrist, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not.”
I hold up my palms in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, okay. If you say so.”
Rosa glares at me for a moment, but then her shoulders slump and her arms drop to her sides. “Okay, fine,” she says glumly. “So maybe I do find him attractive. Just a little bit, okay?”
“Okay, of course,” I say with a reassuring smile. With his blond hair and fierce, square-jawed face, Lucas Kent reminds me of a Viking warrior—or at least Hollywood’s depiction of one. “He’s a good-looking man.”
Rosa nods. “He is. He doesn’t know that I exist, of course, but that’s to be expected.”
“What do you mean?” I frown at her. “Have you ever tried talking to him?”
“Talking about what? I’m just the maid who cleans the main house and occasionally brings the guards some treats from Ana.”
“You can ask him what his favorite food is,” I suggest. “Or how his day went. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Just a simple hello would probably put you on his radar.” As I say this, I realize that being on the radar of a man like Lucas Kent may not be the best thing for Rosa—or any woman, really.
Before I can take back my suggestion, Rosa sighs and says, “I’ve said hello to him before. I just don’t think he sees me, Nora. Not like that. And why would he? I mean, look at me.” She gestures derisively toward herself.
“What are you talking about?” I still don’t think getting Lucas’s attention would be a positive development in Rosa’s life, but I can’t let that comment slide. “You’re very attractive.”
“Oh, please.” Rosa gives me an incredulous look. “I’m average at best. Someone like Kent is used to supermodels—like that blond girl he’s got with him now. I’m not his type.”
“Well, if you’re not his type, then he’s a fool,” I say firmly, and mean it. With her pleasantly round face, warm brown eyes, and bright smile, Rosa is quite pretty. She also has the kind of figure I’ve always envied: lush and curvy, with a nipped-in waist and full breasts. “You’re a beautiful girl—a guy would have to be blind not to see that.”
She snorts. “Right. That’s why my love life is so great.”
“Your love life is limited by the borders of this estate,” I remind her. “Besides, didn’t you tell me you dated a couple of the guards?”
“Oh, sure.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Eduardo and Nick—but that doesn’t mean anything. Guards are limited in their selection too, and they’re not that picky. They’ll fuck anything that moves.”
“Rosa.” I give her a reproving look. “Now you’re just exaggerating.”
She grins. “Okay, maybe. I should probably say ‘anything female that moves’—though I hear Dr. Goldberg gets some action, too. Rumor has it tattooed guys are his fave.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
I shake my head, involuntarily grinning back, and we both burst into laughter at the image of the staid doctor getting it on with one of the big, tatted-up guards.
“Okay, now that we’ve established you’re crushing on Mr. Blond and Dangerous,” I say a couple of minutes later when we stop laughing and resume walking toward the guards’ housing, “can you please tell me again why you want to spy on him with this chick?”
“I don’t know,” Rosa admits. “I just do. It’s sick, I know, but I just want to see what he’s like with another woman.”
“Rosa . . .” I still don’t get it. “If she arrived here in handcuffs, they’re not exactly having a romantic date. You know that, right?”
“Yes, of course.” She sounds remarkably flippant. “He’s probably doing something horrible to her.”
“And you want to see that why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m hoping that seeing him like that will help me get over this silly crush. Or maybe I’m just morbidly curious. Does it really matter?”
“No, I guess not.” I hurry to keep up with her fast stride. “But I can tell you right now that Dr. Wessex would have a lot of fun with you.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she says and grins at me again. “It’s a good thing you’re the one in therapy then, isn’t it?”
* * *
The guards’ barracks are on the very edge of the compound, right next to the jungle. Mixed in with the cluster of small, boxy buildings are a few regular-sized houses. From my earlier explorations, I know that they’re occupied by some of the higher-ranked employees in Julian’s organization and guards who have families.
As we approach, Rosa makes a beeline for one of those larger homes, and I follow her, half-running to keep up. My stomach is beginning to feel unsettled, and I’m already regretting that I gave in to this insanity.
“This is it,” she says in a hushed tone as we go around the side of the house. “His bedroom is here.”
“And you know this how?”
She grins at me. “I might’ve been out here a time or two before.”
“Rosa . . .” I’m discovering a whole new side to my friend. “You’ve spied on the poor man before?”
“Just once or twice,” she whispers, crouching under a window as I hang back a few feet and observe. “Now, shhh.” She presses her finger to her lips in a silencing gesture.
I lean against a tree trunk, cross my arms, and watch as she slowly rises and peeks into the window. I’m astounded that she’s bold enough to do this in broad daylight. Even though this side of Lucas’s house faces the forest, there are plenty of guards in the area, and they could theoretically spot us hanging around.
Before I can voice that concern to Rosa, she turns toward me with a disappointed look on her face. “They’re not there,” she says in a low voice. “I wonder where they could be.”
“Maybe he took her elsewhere,” I say, relieved by this development. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on, let me just check something.” Still crouching, she moves toward a window further to the left.
I reluctantly trail after her, increasingly nauseous and uncomfortable with the situation. Another minute, I promise myself, and I’ll head back.
Just as I’m about to tell her that I’m leaving, Rosa lets out a soft gasp and waves for me to come closer. “There,” she says in an excited whisper, pointing at the window. “He’s got her right there.”
Now my own curiosity kicks in. Bending down, I make my way to where Rosa is hiding and crouch next to her. “What is he doing?” I whisper, almost afraid to know.
“I don’t know,” she whispers back, turning to look at me. “He’s not in the room. She’s alone there.”
“What is she doing then?”
“See for yourself. She’s not looking this way.”
I hesitate for a moment, but the temptation proves to be too much. Holding my breath, I rise just enough to see over the lower rim of the window, barely cognizant of Rosa peeking in next to me.
As I feared, the view inside makes my stomach flip.
The room I’m looking at is large and sparsely furnished. Judging by the black leather sofa near the wall and the TV on the opposite side, it must be Lucas’s living room. The walls are painted white, and the carpet is gray. It’s a starkly masculine room, functional and uncompromising, but it’s not the decor that catches my attention.
It’
s the young woman in the middle.
Completely naked, she’s tied to a sturdy wooden chair, her feet spread apart and her hands bound behind her back. Her head is lowered, her tangled blond hair concealing her face and much of her upper body. All I can see of her are narrow feet and long pale limbs covered with bruises.
Limbs that appear far too thin for a girl of her height.
As I stare in horrified fascination, she lifts her head in a sudden jerky movement and looks directly at me, her blue eyes sharp and clear in her delicately featured face.
I instantly duck, my pulse racing from a burst of adrenaline. Rosa, however, is still looking in the window, her expression that of avid curiosity.
“Rosa,” I hiss, grabbing her arm. “She saw us. Let’s go.”
“Okay, okay,” my friend concedes, letting me tug her away. “Let’s go.”
We head back toward our usual path in silence. Rosa appears to be deep in thought, and I can’t bring myself to speak, my nausea intensifying with every step. As we pass by a set of rose bushes, I kneel down and throw up while Rosa holds my hair and repeatedly apologizes for causing me distress in my condition.
I wave her apologies away, shakily getting back on my feet. What disturbs me the most is not the fact that I saw a woman bound and likely about to be tortured.
It’s that the sight didn’t shock me as it should have.
* * *
Julian doesn’t join me for dinner that night. According to Ana, he has an emergency call with one of his Hong Kong associates. I consider going to his office to listen in, but decide to use the time to call my parents instead.
“Nora, honey, when are we going to see you again?” my mom asks for the dozenth time after I give her a quick update on my classes. My dad is traveling for business, so it’s just the two of us on video chat today. “I miss you so much.”
“I know, Mom. I miss you too.” I bite the inside of my cheek, my eyes suddenly burning with tears. Fucking pregnancy hormones. “I told you, Julian said we’ll be able to come at some point soon.”