Page 32 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
He shrugged. “Two rooms would have cost more. This is better.”
No. No, no, no. “How much does this place cost per night?”
He was saved from answering by a knock at the door. A young man in a finely tailored suit stood there smiling. “Good afternoon, sirs, miss. My name is Jonathan, and I’ll be your butler for the duration of your stay.”
Hendrick let the man in, while I continued to gape. Behind Jonathan the Butler were more of the red-suited bellhops, who carried in our bags and distributed them to the different bedrooms. A maid appeared behind them, apparently to unpack the clothes from the suitcases and into the fancy walk-in wardrobes.
I grabbed Hendrick’s hand and dragged him out onto the balcony. The view of Hyde Park was amazing, but I didn’t let it distract me. Both Otto and Sampson slipped through the door as well, and Otto shut it softly behind him.
“Seriously, Hendrick, how much did this cost? Two thousand bucks a night?” Sampson snorted, and my jaw unhinged.“More?”I looked between them all, and while Sampson and Hendrick gave me blank looks, Otto relented under my stare and nodded once. “Holy shit. No. New rule. No more hotels that cost more per night than my family's monthly mortgage repayment. We stay in normal hotels, in normal rooms.” I paused and sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t pay this back in a million years. Not this level of luxury. I want to be able to pay you back. This is insane.”
“Good Girl, don’t be fucking ridiculous. No one expects you to pay back the cost of a fucking week at the Mandarin Oriental. It costs more than your college education.”
“Not helping,” Otto muttered after I gasped.
“It’s a waste of money,” I argued, spinning to face Hendrick.
He looked aggravatingly chilled out. “It’s my money to waste.”
I huffed, storming back into the suite and then into the closest bedroom before slamming the door. It was too much. How much could you accept from strangers without giving anything back?
I stared at myself in the full-length mirror. “Am I about to be human trafficked?” I asked the stupid girl staring back at me. “Let’s look at the evidence, shall we?” The girl in the mirror quirked a brow.
“Rich guy with connections plucks you from a mental institution, and flies youout of the goddamn country.That should be red flag number one.” My reflection seemed unconvinced. “Then, they completely makeover your entire wardrobe, so you look like pretty cattle for the rich mafia dude who’s going to keep you in the basement of his stone mansion, where no one can hear you scream. That shit is hot in fiction but I don’t wanna be someone's chained-to-the-wall fuck-doll.” I pointed at my reflection, and she pointed back. “They put you up in a fancy hotel so you feel like you owe them something and boom, you’re a high price escort being trafficked across international borders. Plus, your parents think you’ve run away so you don’t even get your damn face on a milk carton. You’re an idiot, Aviva.”
“Do they even put missing kids on milk cartons anymore?”
I whirled around to see Sampson leaning against the doorjamb. “That was a private conversation.”
“With yourself?” His lip quirked but he was trying to keep a straight face.
I crossed my arms and glared. “Yes.”
“I’m gonna be real with you, Aviva. You’re right. We are here to sell you to the Russian Bratva.”
My heart plummeted to my gut, at least until he burst out laughing. I took two steps toward him and punched him in the chest. “You fucking asshole. Don’t say shit like that.” I punched him in the tit again. “God, you guys are about as sensitive as a fucking freight train.”
Sampson caught my hand as I went back for a third punch. He held my fist easily, staring down at me. “You want the actual truth?”
I nodded. Yes. I needed the actual truth, because this shit didn’t happen. I hadn’t wanted to look at the truth back in the States, but there was no safety net here; I couldn’t blindly follow my delusions with no thought for my safety.
“Truth is, Hendrick wants to fuck you. Ever since you said no, that you had no interest in him, you’ve become a bit of an obsession. You’re prey to him, a challenge that he’s been missing for a while.” I went to open my mouth to say fat fucking chance, but then I remembered he’d already been nose to clit with my body, and I’d left my high horse parked in the first class lounge at JFK. Using my fist, Sampson dragged me closer. “The truth is, Good Girl, he’s not the only one. Otto out there? He’s basically coming in his pants at the thought of you, him and Hendrick alone in a room together, skin to skin, fucking each other until you can’t breathe air that doesn’t smell of sex.”
I dropped my eyes to the floor, trying to get myself back under control. My whole body shuddered, partly from his words, and partly from the fact that he was so close I could feel the warmth of his chest against mine, the rumble of his words against my nipples that were already hard.
“And you?” I whispered, not looking at him or those dark eyes that threatened to drag me down into madness.
“Oh, Good Girl, you can’t fathom the bad things I want to do to you.” He leaned down until his lips were close to mine. “I want to make you beg for me. I want to be your whole fucking world.” His lips brushed mine ever so softly as he whispered, “I want to consume you.”
My whole body began to tremble as I arched toward him, reaching for its inevitable doom. He turned his head slightly and nipped my lower lip at the very corner of my mouth, hard.
Then he stepped away. “Get changed. I’ll take you to find your Iron Nautilus.”
As he left, I stumbled on shaky legs to the bed and collapsed down on it. Well, I’d wanted the truth and I’d gotten it. I was going to be a sex slave alright, and I had a feeling I would be down on my knees, begging for the privilege before the week was out.
Just like the good girl Sampson had accused me of being, I picked out an outfit that had been chosen for me, went into the ensuite and showered.
Did I touch myself to relieve the ache? Yes.
