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With the finances in place, I call the club manager at Napoli’s. I’d like to have a word with Valentina’s ex-neighbor about the burglary, and Jerry hasn’t been home since we took her and her brother. The manager assures me Jerry hasn’t been back, so I put word out that I’m looking for him. Whoever wrecked Valentina’s flat will pay. I leave the most unpleasant task for last, dialing Lambert Roos. The phone rings for a long time without going onto voicemail. Looks like I’ll have to pay Lambert a visit.
It’s only when I grow more settled again and reflect on this afternoon’s episode that I recall the lunch Valentina never finished. On strict order from Magda, Marie won’t serve the food she prepares to the staff. Is Valentina eating our leftovers? Goddamn. An uncomfortable emotion lances into my heart. The pinch in my chest won’t let up. I pull our grocery order records. Valentina is living on Granny Smith apples and cheap Chinese noodles. I feel too many things to distinguish one from the other. There are pity, concern, and anger at myself for not discovering the truth earlier. She’s starving right under my nose.
This won’t do. I need her healthy. I adjust the order and send Marie a note. From now on, Valentina will eat what I decide.
* * *
Valentina
There’s a box with my name on it in the kitchen when I come in from washing the patio.
“That’s for you,” Marie says, drying her hands on a dishcloth.
“For me?” I lift the flaps to peer inside.
There are meat, cheese, eggs, veggies, fruit, bottled water, and juice. In a smaller box, I find a variety of delicatessens, including olives, nuts, cold pressed cooking oil, and dark chocolate. There must be a mistake.
“I didn’t order these.”
“It’s from Mr. Louw.” She scrutinizes me. “Whatever you did, it made him very happy.”
I shouldn’t feel guilty, but a flush warms my cheeks. I’m ashamed of my poverty. Always have been. Gabriel’s gesture only reminds me of the gap between us. The kindness makes me irrationally sad and inexplicably angry. I’m nobody’s charity case. I’ll return everything, but for now I unpack it in the fridge to prevent the expensive food from spoiling.
When Gabriel comes to my room, I fight the orgasm he forces on me, doing everything in my power not to come, but it’s a losing battle. Eventually, the pleasure takes over. My body gives in and delivers what he wants. His power over the physical part of me is complete. He stripped me of my defenses. I can’t allow him to strip me of my pride.
Afterward, he pulls me into his arms. His voice is gentle, but stern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“The harder you fight me, the harder I’ll push.”
I lower my eyes. “The food… I don’t appreciate the gesture.”
“Ah.” He says it as if he suddenly understands everything that’s going on in my head. “Look at me.”
I oblige. Grudgingly.
“What are you to me, Valentina?”
“An investment,” I bit out.
“What do I do with my investments?”
“Take care of them.”
He brushes a thumb over my cheek. “I like to take care of you. Is that so bad?”
Yes, dammit. I want to be more than someone’s investment. “You can’t force food on me.”
“Yes, I can. You can eat what I tell you or be force-fed. It’s your choice, but it’ll please me if you accept it without arguing.”
It shocks me how badly I want to please him. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Whatever you need,” he continues, “I want you to tell me.”
I can only stare at him, not sure what is changing between us, but the balance is shifting.
He runs a forefinger over my lips. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me now?” The air of anticipation that hangs around him makes him seem vulnerable, as if he has more to lose than me in this strange game playing off between us.
“No,” I croak, not sure what he wants from me.
As I expected, my answer disappoints him, but he doesn’t pursue the matter. He simply kisses me until my desire spikes again before he gets to his feet and unbuckles his belt.
* * *
Gabriel
What did I expect from Valentina? To open up to me? Why is it important to me that she tells me about her studies out of her own, free will? I don’t have an answer. I only know I want to hear it from her. Until she admits it, I won’t tell her I discovered the truth.
Besides keeping an eye on Valentina’s eating habits, worry about Carly’s date dominates the rest of my week. On Friday night, I have men placed around the movie theatre. Discreetly, of course. Still, I don’t relax until my daughter is home safe and sound, bubblier than ever. If Sebastian put as much as a finger on her, my men would’ve acted, and I’m glad it didn’t come to that. Carly comes to my study to say goodnight. She surprises me with an uncharacteristic kiss on my cheek and a hug.
