Page 92 of Volatile Waters

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Wolf was almost as desperate for natural vitamin D as were all my slaves. The only difference for him was his extensive menu and daily vitamin intake. He had the best treatment. I explained to employees it was because of his status, but I would have fed him that well anyway. No other slave had, or would ever receive such care from me. Not even Fire’s treatment compared. I was starving her for control because she gave it all to Link. Wolf had surrendered to me. Also, Fire had no true new owner waiting for her. She was unbought and truly my personal slave. The agreed price for Wolf was one-point-five million dollars. He was a ‘prize’ in the sex slave industry.

For extra security, Adrian and Kirill helped with escorting Wolf through the house and out the back door. Since I couldn’t technically ‘claim’ him, I did not hold the leash hanging down his perfect chest. We all were confident that Wolf wouldn’t run, in fear of retaliation against his family. But if we were wrong, Father had already explained what would happen to me.

Wolf shielded his eyes from all the natural light beaming through the many windows in the mansion. Once his eyes adjusted, he studied his surroundings with such intent a warning ping hit my stomach, but it was quickly forgotten when I also received a sinister glare from him. He was seething when he saw the Elites, all on their knees in different rooms, waiting for instructions as always. I was so accustomed to the sight; I barely noticed the slaves anymore. Now, seeing them, while carrying judgment on my shoulders, I could see this was possibly not the norm for most everyday lives.

Wolf’s scrutiny had me wondering if there was a way to erase his memory and lock him away again so we could remain private, but the way Adrian watched Wolf scowl at me, I knew that was no longer feasible.

Once outside, for show, I told Wolf, “If you run, I will kill you then your family. Understood?”

His eyes said, “Fuck you,” but his rigid mouth said, “Understood.”

I never knew I could use the word glorious when describing a man, but I had never seen a man like Wolf. His naked body was designed to bathe in sunlight. Dark hair, cascading down his broad back, shined in the light. His wide shoulders lifted, then eased, as if exhaling a deep breath. So entranced with the sight, I groaned when my cellphone rang. I took my own deep breath when I saw who it was. “Mr. Jones, I presume?”

“Is she alive?”

Coyly, I responded, “Whom would we be speaking of?”

“Her flight landed. She checked into the hotel and is now gone.”

“Why do you assume I have anything to do with her disappearance?”

“How much will it take?”

“For what, Mr. Jones?”

“Money. How much money do you want to return her to me?”

“I do not appreciate these allegations.”

“I know you have Whitney, Yury,” scorned Mr. Jones.

Hearing my false name made me itch. “Then, if she is indeed alive, you know what I am doing to her.”

“Jesus Christ! I will give you any dollar amount!”

“Oh! You are still into buying slaves?”

He growled for thirty seconds before finally replying, “I only buy the carnage you abandon.” I think he instantly regretted his words. Taunting me in no way benefited the girl he was trying to save. “Please, I just want to make you richer, not bicker about right or wrong.”

The damage had already been done. “The next time you call, I will be sure to have her screaming as I fuck her tight pussy.” I hung up on him, thinking I made myself perfectly clear. Not only had my temper told Mr. Jones that Fire was alive, and he would be a constant pester, but it told someone else I had no intentions of stopping my slave training, something I had just promised to the most important person.

As if a statue on wheels, Wolf slowly turned to face me. What his expression said was that I had just changed ‘us’ forever. And there was not one thing I could do or say at that moment to try to explain. I had an image to continue in front of my men, or my father would kill me.

Oblivious, Kirill sat in a chair on the back patio of my father’s prison camp/home. “Little Yury is wound tight.”

I couldn’t respond. I just stood there in shock, staring at Wolf. I could literally feel the effects of my world crumbling. It was surreal. It was gut-wrenching.

And it only got worse. Something caught Wolf’s attention.

As he stared up above my head, I slowly turned around to see what had him expressionless. It was Valerie, in Kirill’s room, her hands pitifully on the window panes as if she would do anything to be allowed outside. She looked daunted and depressed beyond all reason. She looked like only a shell of the girl she once was.

Delivering Wolf to his room felt solemn. Not only was he not speaking to me, but his eyes stayed looking at the floor. Once back inside, he turned his face, refusing to look up, and knelt on the cold floor.

I quickly entered, shutting the door behind me. “What are you doing?”

He sat back, as other slaves do all the time, and spread his legs, his penis hanging almost to the floor. Wolf adjusted his leash to hang at his chest, then laid his hands on his thighs, palms facing up. “I want to be treated like every other slave. It is only right—”