AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Showered here.
He was vulnerable here, and if we could somehow smuggle a bomb beneath his huge four-poster bed and blow it into rubble, we’d free a million spirits trapped within the walls. Jewels he’d hurt in here. Women and men he’d abused and tortured.
Twice the size of his gold-carpeted office, his bedroom was vast. A sitting area complete with a stripper pole stabbed out of the glass-topped coffee table to the right, a patio with a Jacuzzi waited beneath the moon, and giraffe skins littered the floor leading to another circular lounge. On the walls hung yet more mythical monstrous artwork. Cupids slaughtered on the spears of demons. Men with forked tongues licking out virgins and a huge canvas where soldiers lay like a carpet of corpses, all while some vanquisher rode over them with his blood-splattered white horse.
Was that how Victor saw himself?
The mayor of his own country? The victor of his own battleground?
“Impressive,” Henri muttered, striding forward with long-legged steps.
To me, his voice sounded raspy and off. I’d caught him scrubbing his tongue with his toothbrush as I’d slipped into the bathroom to take a shower earlier this evening. He’d glanced away, but I knew.
I’d heard him throwing up before.
I’d learned what the black shadows beneath his eyes meant.
Nausea tormented him often.
Just like in that video Victor made us all watch the day he almost killed Henri—his tummy had been delicate then, and it seemed to punish him still.
I didn’t know why he suffered such a debilitating condition, but it’d gotten worse.
Is that why he’s lost weight?
Because he couldn’t keep anything down or because unsaid things kept eating him alive?
Victor didn’t seem to care or notice that Henri vibrated with a million different things. Pouring crystal-clear liquid into three glass tumblers, he strode from the private bar by the doors leading to the patio with a grin. Dressed in black silk pyjamas bottoms, bare lean chest, and a long, slackly sashed red silk dressing gown, he either watched far too many pornos or fancied himself as some Mafia boss.
His hair gleamed from his shower, and his steps were loose and languid. Was Rachel the reason for that? He’d mentioned he wanted a massage from her.
My eyes shot to Rachel where she kneeled in another sitting area to the left. The long beige couch curled into a semi-circle, the white round carpet in the centre so perfect, so pure, it looked like a portal into heaven.
She gave me a flickering smile.
I returned it.
Dropping my eyes, I watched with my peripheral vision as Victor passed one of the glasses to Henri, then patted him encouragingly on the back. “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.” With a mocking bow, Victor took my hand and wrapped my fingers around the second glass. “You too, Ilyana. Tonight is for all of us, so drink up. We can all indulge together. Apart from Rachel, of course. She can’t drink for obvious reasons.” He blew her a kiss, his flippant joy almost infectious if it wasn’t for the aura of evil. “While I was away, I came around to the idea of having a child. I’m rather excited now.”
Henri didn’t reply, sipping a scant mouthful of whatever clear alcohol had been given.
Chuckling, Victor swallowed his own sip. “Actually, I never thought I’d see the day that I’d have a screaming baby in my home. However, it has opened my eyes to other business ventures.”
Henri went stiff beside me.
My heart stopped.
No…don’t say it…
Henri stayed deathly quiet, making Victor’s happy voice all the more obscene. “You know, mon ami. I’ve dabbled in the skin trade for over three decades. I’ve lost count of how many girls and boys I’ve trafficked, but…I’ve always stayed clear of children because they’re messy and loud and not worth the trouble but…” Kicking off his lambskin slippers, Victor padded barefoot toward Rachel and fell backward onto the couch. “Come, come. Sit. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering some dishes to be brought up, so there’s nothing more to do than to relax while we wait.”
Swallowing another mouthful of his drink, Henri forced a smile and marched toward Victor. His black loafers, black slacks, and black shirt were far too dressy compared to Victor’s slinky bedwear. Sitting opposite Victor, Henri cocked his head in my direction, summoning me to his side.
I went without a word, keeping my chin tipped low and eyes on the carpet.
No one moved as I sank to my knees beside him. My skimpy black negligee with its gauzy lace and ribbony straps showed my pebbled nipples and matching black G-string.
Rachel still wore her white see-through teddy, marking both of us as something to be studied, mauled, and claimed.
