Page 25 of River
CHAPTER 7
Trust
River
I was thirteen the first time I noticed a change in how men looked at me. By the time I turned seventeen, I had gotten used to the attention and where my friends complained that they got nervous around the men they fancied, I never had that problem. My heart didn’t speed out of control and my tongue didn’t get tied up no matter whom I flirted with.
The thought of how proud my mother would have been was a factor when I said yes to becoming the girlfriend of a wealthy young aristocrat. He was my first boyfriend, but sadly, it didn’t last for more than seven months. Eight years later, I had a series of failed relationships behind me and had finally acknowledged that I had a special talent for picking the wrong men, who turned out to be either addicts, cheating bastards, closeted gay guys, or already married.
I was twenty-five, and my biggest achievement was building a million-dollar brand based on my work as a model and fashion influencer. With that came attention from suitors who thought they could impress me with expensive gifts and flowers.
It was important to me that I was always clear in my message that I wasn’t interested, but somehow it didn’t stop men from sending jewelry, art, clothing, and offers of luxurious vacations if only I’d let them pamper me.
Abillionaire from Saudi Arabia even bought me my house in Mayfair when I turned twenty-one four years ago. I told him it was too much and that I wasn’t interested in him as anything but a friend. He still insisted that it brought him pleasure to see me happy.
Noah was different and maybe that’s what attracted me to him. My brother had challenged me to give a normal bloke a chance and I was tempted to break my destructive pattern. The problem with Noah was that he was in the wrong category of men. He wasn’t a pleaser but someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take the first step and push a physical relationship. I sensed it, and it should be enough for me to dismiss him and run the other way, which is exactly what I’d done yesterday.
So why am I still thinking about him?
My comment about his hair hadn’t been friendly. Maybe he was dead broke and couldn’t afford a haircut.
But if he could afford to travel by plane to Australia, New Zealand, California, and Bali, surely he could afford a trim, couldn’t he?
My ruminations were interrupted by a movement. The boy sitting next to Ana threw his hands up, complaining about his homework, and it made Ana flinch and instinctively duck her head in fear.
“What’s Ana’s story?” I asked Maya, who was preparing dinner in the kitchen.
“Ana?” Maya leaned back to look out the kitchen door to the courtyard where all the children were having their quiet study hour while the little ones were napping.
“Yes, I saw her flinch. Was she abused?”
“Ana came here after the authorities raided her home. She’s the youngest of three siblings. She has two older brothers, but since they were part of the abuse, it was decided to split them up.”
“What kind of abuse are we talking about?”
“Ana’s mother sold her children online.”
I frowned.
“It’s a big problem, River.” Maya stopped and tasted the soup she was cooking. “Men from all around the world meet with poor women in chatrooms and go to private pages where they exchange money for sexual services. They get off on directing the abuse of the young ones.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“The men with the money don’t rape the children themselves since they’re in a different country, but they’ll pay for a family member to do it for them.”
“But… but…” I stammered because I’d never heard about such a thing.
“Ana’s brothers were forced to have sex with their little sister while men watched through a web camera. Luckily the police in Holland got onto it and delivered evidence to our police, who raided the house Ana lived in and arrested her mother.”
“What about the boys?”
“One had just turned eighteen, so he was arrested, but the youngest was fourteen and therefore considered a victim too.”
“I don’t know what to say. How old is Ana?”
“Nine.” Maya turned to look at me. “You look shocked.”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
