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“I think I have something you’ll like, Nazyr. You like women that look different, don’t you?” I furrow my brows at his questions, wondering how in the fuck Duarte knows that. “I have one I think you’d enjoy. A young Irish woman with natural red hair. She has freckles and the smoothest, palest skin I’ve ever seen.”
Has he had someone on his payroll watching me, or has he had someone look into my past? Regardless, while he might think his research is beneficial to him, I’m only aggravated by it.
“I have one here if you want her. I plan on dealing with your family for many, many years. An order once every eight weeks.” There’s a potential for millions of dollars’ worth of sales here, yet I’m thinking about walking away right now.
The fact is, I don’t like what Duarte is trying to offer me. He’s trying to bribe me and hopes I’ll decrease some of the cost, but unfortunately, that isn’t up to me. Pricing is set by Ruslan, so if he wants to work out a better deal that way, he’s going to have to communicate with my brother about it.
As much as Duarte is rubbing me the wrong way right now, I know I can’t walk away from this deal. I came here to prove to my brother that I could be taken seriously and play a real role in our family business. He didn’t say this is a test, but I can read between the lines. This is very much a test, and I need to prove myself to Ruslan.
Duarte snaps his fingers in the air, and as soon as he does, heels clack against the floor. I turn, and I’m surprised by what I see. This woman is tall, maybe a few inches shorter than me. Her arms and legs are on the thinner side, but she has an hourglass body type with wide hips. Her hair is a deep carrot color, and as she moves closer, I can see the beauty of her eyes. They’re a vibrant jade green. They’re the kind of eyes you can’t help but stare at. I’m curious if they’re contacts, but I don’t believe they are.
“Nazyr, this is Mona.”
“Hello,” Mona says in a thick Irish accent. She looks right into my eyes, and I immediately notice the scars on her face. Something tells me she didn’t have these scars for her entire life. I feel as though Duarte is responsible for them, which makes me think another way about him entirely.
I don’t say anything to the woman, but I look at Duarte, then back at the woman. “I’m not interested in this bribe, Duarte.”
Mona narrows her brows and looks over at Duarte. It’s like she didn’t know anything about it.
Duarte laughs, “Don’t make such an important decision yet. You wait until the end of the night and then let me know your decision.” I’m under the impression I don’t really have a choice here, so I inhale slowly and nod.
“Come, let’s have some dinner. My chef prepared something delicious for us,” Duarte tells me, and he begins walking inside the house.
Mona and I stare at each other for a moment, both of us seemingly unsure about what’s happening right now. I don’t know who this woman is to Duarte, but he’s adamant about giving her to me… but why?
I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet, but I at least have to get through this dinner.
Chapter Four
Mona
I’ve never met this man before. Not once. I’ve met a lot of people Duarte’s done business with in the past, usually in these dinner-type settings or on the rare occurrence where he’ll take me out. He’s never taken me out into the city, though. Why not? Because many don’t even know about my existence. The only people who really know about me are in Duarte’s ranks or are one of his business associates. They’ve only seen me here at the estate or if I go to a sale with him. On occasion, Duarte would take me to auctions where he’ll purchase one-of-a-kind artwork, animals to hang on the walls, and sometimes even underground human auctions where he’ll buy other women.
In my time with Duarte, I never ever thought he’d ever offer me up to someone, yet he did with this stranger. With this man named Nazyr. Have I done something that’s pissed Duarte off? I’m starting to think so… but why would he discard me like an old toy, especially when he usually shows me just how badly I’ve pissed him off in a physical manner.
Is Duarte serious about giving me to this guy? He might just be scaring me. I keep going back and forth on whether or not Duarte is serious, especially as we eat dinner. It’s delicious, just like it always is, but between each bite, a fear I haven’t felt in ages begins to rise up in my body. A fear I haven’t felt since the night I was drugged in that restaurant.
Would this man condemn me to something worse than Duarte has, or would he be more human and grant me my freedom?
Fuck, what would I even do with my freedom? I don’t remember what it’s like to be free. As I eat my dinner, I try to keep my hands from shaking, but I’m petrified. The conversation Duarte and Nazyr are having is muffled by the intense beating of my heart in my chest. I don’t know what to do right now, but I know I can’t show any emotional reaction. It will only piss Duarte off, and if I end up staying here with him, then I don’t want to deal with the repercussions of that later.
Why am I even thinking like going with Nazyr would be better? There is no one that is better to deal with. Duarte and his associates are all vile men. They’re all heavily involved in the criminal world, and it just shows that they’re the type of men who will do anything they want, even if they know it’s wrong.
But there’s a bigger issue here: my daughters. If I’m forced to leave, I know Duarte won’t let me take them with me. He’ll instead keep them here, having nannies raise them for the rest of their lives. Even though he’s their father, I often wonder if one day he’ll get physical and beat them the way he’s done to me. I try to push the thought out of the forefront of my mind, but I know what he’s capable of. I’ve witnessed his cruelty firsthand many, many times.
If I leave, I’ll likely never be able to see them ever again. Suddenly, keeping my emotions hidden away becomes harder to do. Still, I’m doing my best because I don’t want to be attacked right now. I don’t want Duarte to even sense I’m becoming upset.
“Ma’am?” a man’s deep voice calls my attention from my internal thoughts, and he offers me a glass of champagne which I gladly accept.
“Thank you,” I tell him with a forced smile and then look over at Duarte, who’s too busy speaking to Nazyr. However, Nazyr has his eyes glued on me. What is he thinking? What in the world is running through that mind of his? I wonder if he’s debating taking me with him or is he thinking about how he’ll string me up and slice me up like a serial killer. God, the anxiety coursing through my veins right now is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. At least since I’ve been with Duarte, I know what to expect from him, but I don’t know what to expect from the man who’s staring at me, his eyes not revealing any of his thoughts.
I don’t know a damn thing about him except that he must be powerful and his family is important. I only know those last two things because of the way Duarte is speaking to him. I might not seem like I pay a lot of attention to what they’re saying, but I’m always listening.
“I noticed you have quite the art collection,” Nazyr speaks up.
“Ah, I do. It’s a passion my mother instilled in me. Come, I’ll show you more of it.” Duarte rises, and Nazyr quickly follows.
Duarte takes a few steps and then turns back to look at me. “Come on, Mona.”
