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And I’ll have Pavel look into Clara’s network of family and friends. See if there’s someone who can eventually take Willow far the fuck away from here.
Someone who can give her a better life than I ever could.
33
CLARA
As promised, Raizo personally escorts me into his office—or, at least, what he calls his “office.” It looks eerily similar to the suite where I ran into Demyen that fateful night, back when I thought I had a chance to escape Vegas and start a new life.
My God, that feels like forever ago.
I’m surprised to see I’m not the only woman here. Unlike the women in the atrium, however, these ones don’t look like they’re nervous or eager or really anything at all.
Truth be told, they look… dead. The lights are on, but nobody’s home.
There are only three of them here, but it already feels like three too many. Their dresses look more like what Demyen made me wear to his outdoor cocktail party: just enough to tease the imagination, but not enough to actually conceal anything. No shoes, not even heels, on their feet and their makeup all looks a bit smudged. Smeared lipstick. Mascara running ever-so-slightly like black tears.
“Don’t mind them,” Raizo murmurs in my ear. He’s standing behind me a little too closely and rests his hands on my arms. “They’ve been busy providing entertainment for my men.”
I don’t ask him to clarify.
I’m pretty sure I get the picture.
He leads me to the vanity mirror lining an ornate desk and presses on my shoulders until I sit on the stool. I’m holding out hope he’s going to leave me here, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he starts stroking my hair back behind my shoulders. Caressing the curve of my neck with his fingertips. Tracing the shell of my ear.
“You are so incredibly beautiful.” Raizo breathes it like a prayer, gazing at me in the mirror. “It is amazing how much you look like your mother.”
I don’t know what to say, or if I’m supposed to say anything at all. So I try to at least curve my mouth in the tiniest of smiles so he can see I’m docile. Complacent. Not about to run away.
Because I really can’t. I can’t run away without getting Willow first. And I can’t get Willow without leading Raizo right to her.
“I meant what I said,” he tells me. “I wanted to buy you for myself. Keep you by my side, in my home and in my bed. I’d take such good care of you, too. My beautiful Clara.”
I try not to shudder.
He sighs. “But Mr. Zakrevsky made it exceptionally clear that he doesn’t want to see you anywhere near Las Vegas. And I have far too many holdings here to just up and relocate for the sake of my own satisfaction.” Raizo sighs again and gazes at me longingly inthat stupid mirror. “I’ll just have to content myself with this little time we have.”
I gulp and croak, “What’s going to happen to me?”
Raizo smiles. I hate the way it turns his handsome face into something so disgustingly sinister. “I took extra special care to make sure only the wealthiest and most powerful men attending would have a chance at you. Narrowed it down to six, to be exact. And I have a very good idea of who the winning bidder will be.”
His hands wrap around my shoulders, then slowly slide over my collarbone in a caress that only heightens my nausea. As he continues to speak, he slowly edges the thin straps down my shoulders and works his fingers closer to the tops of my breasts. Back and forth, back and forth, touching me like he owns me.
For these horrible few moments, I guess he does. I blink slowly, hoping I look demure and doe-eyed while I’m really just trying to close my eyes against the sight of this man touching my body.
And praying. I’m praying, furiously, that Demyen won’t give Willow to Martin.
Please let Bambi get her out first…
“I strongly recommend…” Raizo murmurs into my ear once again, leaning down and caressing my skin with his lips. “… that you do whatever your new master says, when he says it, like the good girl I know you are. These men have voracious appetites, and you, my sweetness, are so delicious. I’d be surprised if you ever see the outside of his bedroom, at least for the first few months.”
I wince, but I don’t let myself make a peep, even though what I want to do is scream like I’ve never screamed before. I’ll do whatever I have to do to survive.
Whatever I have to do to survive.
Whatever I have to do to survive…
