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“But,” he murmured, his voice reasonable, “if you don’t ask me, then I’m afraid I shall leave here quite soon and you can remain in here another three days. It is your decision.”
“I-I want out of here.”
Her voice had been low, emotionally off key. Yerik’s spirit soared with joy. “You must learn to be respectful. ‘I want out of here, please.’”
Sky whispered brokenly, “I want out of here, please…”
“Very good,” Yerik praised, slapping his hands against his thighs. “Now, you must tell me what you want, Sky. You must always be honest and truthful with me from now on. Tell me what you desire.” He watched her cower, her brow pressed to her knees, hands against her eyes. She was fighting him. It was to be expected. To be broken down and forced to do or say things under duress was tough on someone like her.
Yerik had changed his frame of mind on how he saw Sky Lambert. He’d allowed his own plans for her to gloss over the fact she had been a trained military officer. She was not stupid. As a matter of fact, she was damned intelligent. When he’d gone over her behavior the last four weeks when she was a prisoner here at the villa, Yerik realized he’d been played by her. Sky had pretended to be compliant when she was not. She had been very good at fooling even him, and few could do that. Ever. But now, he was going to get even. He had to break her before she was fertilized with his sperm. That meant he had a month to do it, because he wanted Sky in an even emotional space when she carried his son. There would be no more torture after she became impregnated. He had a month.
“Sky,” he reminded her gently, “you must speak up quickly. I take your silence as a no. And my people learn quite speedily around here that they must answer me or do my biding without hesitation. So, this one time only, I will be patient with you. But from now on,” and his voice became a grate where he allowed his anger to be unveiled, “if you dare disobey me, I will have you thrown back into this room. Do we understand one another?”
“Y-yes, we understand one another.”
Her voice was halting. Yerik heard no anger in it. Just… resignation. That was a promising start. “Very good. Now, tell me what you want?”
Sky lifted her head, squinting, trying to hold his gaze. He was dressed in a pale blue peasant’s shirt, white linen slacks, and sandals. “I want to keep my baby. Do NOT take it. Please?” She watched him wreath in a smile.
“Very good. You are learning, Sky. Unfortunately, I cannot grant you your request. But I can reward you for speaking your honest and truthful thoughts. Would you like a shower? To wash your hair? A clean set of clothes?”
“Y-yes. Please…” and she sobbed, pressing her hands against her eyes, tears running down her cheeks.
Yerik felt as if he’d made a breakthrough with Sky. “That, my dear, I can easily grant you. I will have you taken to Catarina’s suite. She will take proper care of you.”
“T-thank you…”
“No. ‘Thank you, Don Tobar.’”
“Thank you, Don Tobar.”
Pleased, he stood, wanting badly to get out of this hellhole of a room. “Very good. You will join me for dinner, my dear.” He stepped out and the guard shut the door.
“Get her out,” Yerik told his guards. “Have Catarina take her to her bathroom suite and get her cleaned up. Tell her to dress Sky in a loose fitting dark blue caftan gown,” and he grinned. “Then, bring her to the pergola and she will join me for dinner tonight.
“Yes, Don Tobar,” the guard said.
Sky luxuriated beneath the warm spray of water from the shower. She’d washed her hair, soaped off the stench from her skin. Catarina had given her a thick pink towel and she’d dried herself off afterward. As she looked down at her belly, Sky thought she saw a slight bump, more than normal. That was her baby.Cal’s baby.Her heart cringed in abject grief as she thought about her baby being aborted. Somehow, she had to convince Yerik to not do this to her.
“Here you go,” Catarina said airily, opening the bathroom door. She presented Sky with a bra, panties, sandals, and a dark blue silk caftan. “Don Tobar expects you for dinner in about thirty minutes. I must prepare you, so hurry, come out here and sit down in front of my make-up mirror.”
Emotionally, Sky felt numb. She recognized it from the time she’d escaped Vlad by going out a bedroom window, getting the police, and then coming back to the house, seeing her foster parent’s dead bodies. She’d felt gutted. Out of control as if the world were controlling her instead. She was a puppet of circumstances. Despite feeling robotic, Sky caressed her belly where her baby lay protected. Swallowing hard, she followed Catarina out to the vanity.
When she sat down, she saw five bruise marks, bright purple, around her neck. Catarina said nothing. Staring at her face, Sky saw how lifeless her eyes looked. They had finally adjusted to light, and she was no longer leaking tears. The pain had gone away. Staring at her throat, Sky realized the violence in Alexandrov was barely beneath the surface. She tried to think as Catarina fussed with her hair and quickly put on make-up. Sky hated the make-up. It symbolized a mask to her, something she couldn’t tolerate.
“Don Tobar wants you looking beautiful,” Catarina cooed. “You have such great bones in your face. You’re truly gorgeous Sky. I think he’ll be very pleased when you sit with him at dinner.”
Sky said nothing. If she fought the make-up, she knew there would be instant repercussions. She did NOT want to go back into that squalid, hateful, smelly room.
“Do you know? He chose the caftan for you. He requested a certain perfume for your skin as well.”
“I hate perfume.”
“Not anymore, you don’t,” Catarina laughed. And then she became very somber. “Sky, you must not make him angry. What he has done to you this one time is nothing compared to what he can do.” She placed her hand on Sky’s shoulder. “Please, just do as he requests. If you do, things will go better for you. I promise.”
Sky nodded and said nothing. Catarina had to know she had been thrown into the deprivation room. Clearing her throat, she whispered, “Has he done that to you, too? Put you in that room for days without any light?” She looked up at the pretty Russian girl. Catarina grimaced.
“No. If I do not, please him, he throws me to some of his favorite guards. They have their way with me. They’re allowed to do anything they want. They are animals compared to Don Tobar. I hate it. I hate when… well… when I do not, please him exactly as he wants.”
