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“Naturally.”
With Stella's eyes still on her, Mitch exited the parlor and found a maid standing in the hall, as promised. “Rose" must have been another fake name, much like Lily. Mitch had questions but asked none of them as they ascended the servant stairs in the back of the hall.
The best course was to follow directions. So she entered a chamber on the second floor, where her one bag from Hawaii sat on a chair in the corner and the double bed was neatly made with starched sheets and ivory comforter. Rose pointed to a door across the hall. It was the bathroom, and she had to share it with at least two other women for the moment.
The maid left. Mitch closed the door but didn't lock it. After taking stock of the small bedroom, she sat in the chair with her bag in her lap. She now had the perfect view of the bondage straps tucked neatly beneath the mattress.
Everywhere Mitch went, Candace attempted to taint some of the best parts of life.
“Is this everything?” Mitch attempted to hide her excitement as she perused some of Candace's most classified business files. Candace knew better than to keep a digital footprint. Anything that wasn't kept in analog was stored only on older devices incapable of an internet connection. This meant Candace also had a hidden safe with a stash of USB and external hard drives. She had made it clear that many of her clients were so high profile that she was paid to do things this way.
Candace followed Mitch around the tucked-away office on the fourth floor of the manor. Unlike Candace's downstairs office, this one held all of therealshit. Nothing here was on the record. The IRS didn't see a penny of Candace's nefarious deeds. “Of course it's not,” she said. “Never keep it all in one place. Or one country, for that matter.”
Mitch checked with her new conspirator before flipping through a stack of papers fresh from the safe. This was Candace's way of showing trust, and Mitch wasn't about to break it. Not until she was sure Candace was cornered with no escape. “Good idea.”
“You're not going to ask me how much money I bring in every year?”
“Believe it or not, that's not what I'm most interested in.” When Mitch put down the papers, she held her hands in a way that angled the ring toward the top piece that contained the most damning information. “I want to know the ins and outs of how it works. You've trickled in a lot of details, but I still don't get the whole picture. For example…” She gestured to a profile Candace kept of one of her girls, a young woman from Ukraine. “Do they come here knowing what you're asking them to do? Or are they having to… adapt?” Mitch glanced at the file again. The woman in the picture looked simultaneously old and young as if her birth certificate said one thing but the lines of her life another. “This girl only arrived this year, didn't she?”
“If it's who I'm thinking of, then she's been around a few months. She actually came to me by way of her old Master.”
“Her old… Master?”
“A Londoner. He helped her escape Ukraine right after… well, I don't like to talk politics. They had an arrangement, but he was urged to marry a proper wife and had to get rid of her. I arranged the visa and paid for everything. He gave me a steep discount due to the urgency.”
A discount. Getting rid of her.Candace spoke as if she meant a house, not a human being. “Is that how it works? You find these girls visas so they can legally come into the country?”
“Mostly. Some of them are already here when they come into my employ, and not everyone is born in another country.”
“Like Amalie?”
Candace was caught off guard. “How do you know? She didn't tell you, did she?”
“No. I'm merely astute.”
“Good. Not only does she know better than to talk, but she didn't strike me as the type.”
“She doesn't strike me as the type for any of that.”
“Amalie and I have a deal. Like most people working for me, they're paying off their loans from me in ways that do not require paper currency.”
In her case, it's her sister's debt, isn't it?Candace may not be part of a crime syndicate or descended from a premier mafia don, but she could start her own. Easily. “Why don't they run, then? If they have a visa, surely they could sneak out on you. I mean… us.”
“You need your passport for that. The ones who are citizens of wherever we're at are often too much in the hole to get away from me. I don't do dirty work myself, Michelle, you must believe me, but I know people who will. A lot of them are clients.” Candace smugly proclaimed her following statement, “It's nothing to exchange and barter, you know. Do my dirty work, and I'll give you the bachelor party of a lifetime.”
“You mean you're holding passports for them? How generous. That way they don't have to worry about them.”
“It is handy. They're not in this room, but they're secured.”
Mitch leaned against the desk, grateful that Candace was easily distracted by the cleavage she still didn't allow herself to indulge. “Like in a safety deposit box?”
“Hmm. You really are astute.”
“I told you. I can really help you take this tidy business to the next level. Just tell me what you need me to assess, and I'll do it.”
Candace approached, fingers extending to Mitch's chin. “Pinch me. I must be dreaming. God has given me an angel I never asked for.”
Mitch melted against the desk, her persona so thick that she almost questioned who she was at that moment. “What can I say? I've always been drawn to the kings and queens of the jungle. There's no one better to serve… Mistress.”
