Louis clears his throat. She stiffens and releases me. She walks over to him and smiles, but it isn't as big as when she smiled at me. She leans over him and I assume she asks the same thing.
"Five minutes," Louis replies.
She nods and walks away.
I hate this world.
Maybe I'll slit his balls and let him bleed instead of a quick bullet.
Killing him with my bare hands would be appropriate, too.
"Jonas Torres and Jorge Cano seem to have a legitimate alliance. Together they have more power than Santiago," Louis says.
Gustave picks up his drink. "Then we take Jorge out first. His cartel is bigger than Jonas's. We break Jonas's strength then take out Santiago. Jonas goes last."
"What about Nicolas?" I ask.
"What does Santiago's brother have to do with this?" Louis asks.
"The President wants him dead. If he ever escapes prison in Belize, or if the politicians in Belize change sides, he will be able to run Santiago's cartel. As much as we don't want to give the President anything he wants, he needs to be taken out," I add, only to prove my allegiance to Louis.
"Agreed. Malin, you will take Jorge out. I will send orders when to do it," Louis orders and rises.
"Done," I claim.
He finishes his drink and walks to the door the woman went through.
I stare, and my stomach flips about what she has to do.
"This is why you must try harder to fall into the role I tell you to. If you don't pass, Emilia's fate will be like hers," Gustave says in a low voice.
My jaw twitches. I finish my scotch and rise. "Let's go."
When we aren't in meetings, Gustave attempts to mentally prepare me for when I finally get to see Emilia again.
My stomach never stops pitching. My innocent ma belle is going to be on display to the evilest of men. Her picture is already in their hands. Discussions via a secure message server are already taking place about what they want to see me do to her.
Some of the men thrive on violence. It flows into their sex life as well. And the most dangerous BDSM acts they want me to perform on ma belle.
Others want the purity of Emilia brought out, keeping it more vanilla, so she breaks under nothing unusual.
Then there's the group of men trying to convince the others to let me do what I see fit, so no one knows what is coming.
The chats are divided in thirds. Arguments take place daily over what will be more entertaining. Gustave makes me read all of it, telling me it's part of the preparation. Every time I view any of it, I feel sicker.
Gustave forces me to eat and workout. The steam I blow off in the gym is never enough. After every workout, Gustave and I converse for hours.
"You own her. You have to shift mentally. If you don't, you won't survive that night."
"I don't own her," I growl.
He points in my face. "That is going to get you killed and Emilia sent to the whorehouse. I made that mistake the first time Bernadette and I were in the room. It was a miracle Drucker convinced the Global Leaders to give us another chance. You won't get one. Make the shift, or you will fail."
I fight him every step of the way. On the seventh night, President Tyler comes to our apartment unannounced with Louis.
None of us knew he was in the building. We shouldn't have been surprised. I bought Emilia. He wanted her. His obsession only grew when he learned his bid didn't go through.
He sits in the living room with Gustave and me, drinking scotch and discussing Emilia like she is a car to buy instead of a human being. I have to play the game. I loathe every minute of it and want to cut off his dick. The fact Emilia is behind the door, and he knows it, only makes him try harder.