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He nodded slowly. “I imagine you have plans for all this wealth?”
“Of course,” I said.
I held his gaze for a few seconds, making it clear I had no intention of elaborating any further, then lowered my eyes to avoid the challenge. He would be too pleased to seize the opportunity.
Belduk pursed his lips, a heavy silence hanging between us.
“So where do I sign?” I asked at last when the silence stretched too long.
“Well, it’s not that simple, Sana Vrok,” Belduk said with false sympathy. “As a Free Woman, you may only receive, withdraw, or inherit sums below one hundred thousand credits without the oversight of a guardian. Yours ranks in the billions.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
My nails dug into my palms while I struggled to maintain a neutral face.
“I wish you would have made me aware of that fact beforehand so that I would have been prepared, which would have avoided wasting both our times,” I said.
The slight narrowing of his eyes confirmed that my voice had not quite succeeded at hiding my seething anger.
“Oh, no time is wasted, Sana Vrok,” Belduk said with a somewhat malicious smile. “I took the liberty of calling your guardian, as appointed by your father before his passing.”
My blood froze in my veins. Belduk’s thin lips stretched as his smile broadened. He knew this wasn’t good news for me.
“How thoughtful of you,” I said with a thin voice.
My mind raced as I tried to figure out who my father could have given me to and what his intentions might be. For the first time, I genuinely regretted not accepting my sister’s offer to send a small Tuurean fleet with me to Guldar to collect my inheritance. But that would have created a whole other set of problems.
Belduk reached for his com and informed his assistant to bring in their guest. I schooled my features to remain neutral. Whoever this man was, my father wouldn’t have appointed him if he didn’t genuinely believe that he would do right by me. I just hated walking in blind.
The door opened, and the same hybrid slave walked in followed by a striking Guldan man. Broad and muscular, his curly, shoulder-length, brown hair framed a handsome face with full lips, deep, green eyes, and thick, dark-brown horns. Our eyes met. The glimmer of shock on his face, triggered by the sight of me, quickly hidden. Recovering promptly, he narrowed his eyes, and his sensuous lips stretched in a smile laced with malice.
Oh Goddess! Doruk!
As the assistant made a quiet exit, a slight frown marred Doruk’s forehead, making me realize I had not risen to my feet upon his entrance, as expected of females as a sign of respect.
“Doruk,” I said, standing up with my head bowed.
“Ravena Vrok,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.
A million questions raced through my mind. Why in the Goddess’ name would my father appoint his twisted, former right-hand man as my guardian? My father had operated the largest slave empire in the Western Quadrant. My mother had been his property. Despite that, an unlikely love had blossomed between them. Doruk, one of his crewmates, had always hated the privileged treatment my mother and sisters had received. Although we had never met in person, Father had shown me plenty of pictures of him. Had he shown Doruk pictures of me? How much of my existence did he know?
“Master Belduk,” Doruk said, stopping a couple of steps in front of me, “I would like a private moment with my ward before we finalize our business.”
“Of course,” Belduk promptly said. He pointed to a motion sensor embedded on his desk. “Simply wave your hand above it when you are ready for me to return.”
Without another word, he walked out of his office, and closed the door behind him. Doruk’s eyes never strayed from me as he retrieved a small device from the pocket of his black dress pants. I recognized the military grade, high-tech scrambler. He placed it on top of the notary’s desk and activated the device. That he’d want to disable any microphone or cameras that might eavesdrop on our conversation gave me hope. But knowing the depth of his hatred towards my mother and sisters, and the depravity with which he’d abused the slaves on board my father’s ship dampened it.
Once more, Doruk undressed me with his eyes, this time burning with lust. He slowly licked his lips.
“I’ve got to give it to your mother. She played a masterful game.”
“My mother didn’t play any game,” I said, lifting my chin defiantly.
“Oh, but she did,” Doruk said, advancing towards me, invading my space. “She played your father all the way into his grave.”
I took a step back, but he continued his advance. The edge of the desk pressing against the back of my thighs prevented me from retreating further. He stopped in front of me, his pelvis pressing against my stomach. I leaned backwards and turned my face away from his.
“She loved him,” I said, looking at the right wall covered with abstract, monochromatic art.
