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“How do you think they’ll react to the fact you took me when you could’ve killed me?”
“I don’t give a damn about anyone outside of this room when it concerns you and I and our business agreement.”
She laughs indignantly, shaking her head sadly. “Our business agreement,” she manages to say under the softness of her breath. “If I’m going to be here, I come with conditions.”
I laugh. It’s more of a guffaw at the insanity in her comment. “You’re not exactly in the position to be negotiating.”
“And you’re not in the position to question what I’m capable of.”
Part of me bristles. I know what lengths she’s willing to go to in order to make a statement, but I’d be a fool if I mistook the lengths she’d go to to take herself out of an equation.
“Fine. List them.”
My dad won’t appreciate this—me liaising with the enemy—but as boss, I’m being proactive and managing this situation. Otherwise, the next six months are going to be hell on Earth.
More so than they currently are.
“I am not staying in this room.”
“Non-negotiable right now.”
She glowers. “I am not your prisoner.”
“That’s subject to personal opinion.” I grin at her, knowing how it rattles her. “Next.”
“If I’m going to be stuck here, I get a wage.”
“What do you need money for, Natalia? You’ve been supplied a room. You’ll be supplied three square meals. You’re back wanting for nothing.”
“I had my freedom. You aren’t about to cut me off from it.”
“I beg to differ.” I rub my hands together. “I’ll think about the freedom aspect of this. I’ll think about the wage, too.”
“And I don’t want minimal wage shit, either.” Her face is set like stone, her disdain of everything written so plainly. “And clothes. I get an entire wardrobe.”
I laugh at her for that.
She’s still in that dainty little chemise.
“If I’m going to be your prisoner, I’d at least like more clothes than what you brought with you.”
Which would be nothing.
In hindsight, I realise that error, but I was angry at her, at me, at my fucking dick for aching for her. I saw red, then I saw my escape. Clothes were a minor thing I didn’t think of a few hours ago.
“We can go shopping. I’ll buy whatever you need.”
“I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you. I can cover the costs.”
“That won’t happen,” I remark, cocking a brow. “I don’t know who’s on your payroll, Natalia, and until I figure that out, I’m keeping you under lock and key.”
“Thought you’d taken care of it all?”
I chuckle at her indignantly. “Have you forgotten we share the same upbringing?”
She purses her lips, knowing I’m right.
“We have men who work for men who work for men who work for me. I’m not stupid enough to believe you’ve lived a lower-class lifestyle when you know nothing about the word poverty.”
