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The last thing I want to do is help this bitch get ready to send a message to her dad, but my love needs it. She has to look beautiful enough to fool his business acquaintances, but not so good that word gets back to her father that she's being treated well. I've already chosen the dress she'll wear and will have people come in to do her hair and make-up before it. People who'll be able to handle the brief. I find myself thinking about Kase and his growing fascination with the girl. He was indifferent, at most, before she got here, but he's beginning to see past the anger and need for vengeance. I can see it - even if he doesn't. It's in the softness that sometimes passes across his face when he looks at her. The irritation in his voice and demeanor when she's in the box too long. Last night was the first time that I thought he might be growing a conscience about what he was doing. The first time he fucked me harder to drown out her crying and whimpering. I underestimated his hatred for her, even though his desire to avenge his father's murder grows.
He'll be back by 5pm and has promised me a night on the town. I need her seen to and out of his sight. Even putting her in the box might cause his mood to shift. I call down to the kitchen with instructions for her to be fed at 7. I go down to her room and open the door without knocking. She's lying on the bed and staring out of the small window. She gets up when I enter and looks at the floor. I inspect her - I'm pretty sure about her size and weight. The dress will be suitable. I need to make sure that they're briefed on her skin tone and which jewels will suit her. Strangely aroused by her trembling with fear every time I raise my hand to touch her hair or check if her ears are pierced. I lift her chin and look at her. The eyes don't lie. No matter how good she looks on Thursday, the look of fear and desperation will be obvious to anyone who knows her. That should make Kase happy.
"At the dinner - the same rules will apply. You speak only when spoken to. Although these men think that this is just a casual business event -it's actually to send a message to your father. So, you need to be miserable for the ones he knows. Got it." I tell her and she nods. "Good girl. If Kase is happy with the outcome, then I'll be happy and maybe...just maybe- your life here will be a little easier." I start laughing and leave her trembling as I leave the room.
I go down to the office and make the call. I need to organize everything for Thursday evening and then I go to the kitchen to discuss the seating and menu for the night. I feel like Mrs. Kase Quill already. I am so in love with him and so desperate for him to know how valuable I could be to him. I know he doesn't love me yet, but there are moments when I can feel tenderness and affection and it gives me hope. The chef has a list of everyone's particular dietary requirements and has prepared for them before, but nothing can go wrong. A lot's riding on that night - not just for Kase but for me. If he can see that I can fit easily into his world maybe, he'll let go of this irrational fear that they'll see him as weak and an easy mark instead of the ruthless businessman he's worked to become since his father's murder. When I'm sure that the staff has a handle on the food and decor, I feel comfortable moving on to the next part of the plan, which is to convince Kase that I should be there to keep an eye on the girl. To make sure that she's never alone with anyone long enough to tell them anything about our little situation. Even though she seems harmless and he's all but convinced that she knows what's at stake, it wouldn't hurt to stoke his fears. I know it's manipulative, but I need something. Unlike her, I cannot afford to make any wrong moves and risk being cast out. Kase is my future and I'm his, whether he knows it or not.
CHAPTER 7
Kase
Walking through the atrium, I see Alex checking on the progress of the landscaper. He's been a useful addition to me, and I have grown rather fond of him. I know he wants, and needs, more of me, but I'm not sure I'm ready to give it. I used the excuse of the world I inhabit, but it's not the truth. It's just what I've always used to keep my male partners at bay over the years. Nothing keeps commitment talks off the table like fear of death at the hands of a criminal organization. So far it's worked, but Alex is the first man that I've felt even slightly close to letting down my guard for and dispensing with the rule. The first one who not only didn't mind my proclivities, but could match me kink for kink. He goes a little overboard where the girl is concerned. My plan is to punish her father - let him not have a moment’s rest as he's assaulted by thoughts of what depravities I'm wreaking on his little girl. She's a weapon in a much larger arsenal -part of a plan that will see him driven to his knees and wiped out, not by me but by his own hand. He'll pay for what he's done to my family for taking my father from me and causing me to be an orphan who had to conquer a world that I had no interest in becoming a part of until my father's death. He needs to know and feel how his actions changed not only my life but his daughter's too. With that he can live with the consequences until it becomes too much he doesn’t want to live through it anymore.
My mind wanders upstairs to where she is. Alex has already spoken to her and says she's clear on what's expected of her and the point of the dinner. He says she might toe the line. A guard would seem odd on a secured property, and he's suggested being at her side to prevent any slips about her or our arrangement. It makes sense, so I don't know why part of me is fighting against it. It bugs me that despite everything, I still struggle to trust him and let him in, to love him. He's been clear about his desire for us to build a life together and even his acceptance of her as my wife, at least on paper. I couldn't ask for a more accepting and accommodating partner but still a part of me hangs back, a part of me resists. He knows it and it hurts him, I can tell, but I don't know how else to be or act. I cannot fake love or intimacy -they're strangers to me. I've only ever loved myself and my family. Everyone else was just passing through. I live my life by a certain code and that means that the white picket fence will never be my destination.
I go upstairs and get ready for an evening out with Alex. I've been promising some time alone again for a couple of weeks. He deserves to have it for all the sacrifices he's made to make this insane situation work because he knows and understands that I need it. I think he hopes that once I get it out of my system and I've avenged my father, I can move on - to him and a life together. That's part of what I find refreshing about him. He doesn't fear me and says what he thinks and means. There's no guile or pretense and I know where I stand with him at all times. In my world, that's refreshing. The people I've grown up with and now surround myself with are always on guard and make sure that you never know where you stand and that you have no indication of their emotions or intentions. It's a survival skill. The life we've chosen. Nobody questions it or talks about it - it just is, and we get on with business. Some, like me, never let the mask drop because our private lives need to be handled in the same way.
I take a shower and use the time to clear my head as the warm water pummels my body like a million tiny masseuse hands. It works and emerges clear headed and actually excited about spending a night out on the town. I haven't decided what to do beyond dinner at Le Creme. It's Alex's favorite French bistro. After that, maybe a bar or clubbing. I'll let him decide. He's the one that loves to dance and party. I could happily stay in and watch TV or read a book. It makes no difference to me, but I've seen how he goes stir crazy after a few days. I guess He's good for me in that way- brings me out of my shell. The night we met was an absolute fluke. I usually just go online and find someone when the need arises. Since my father's murder, I haven't wanted or been able to tolerate more than that, but that night the walls seemed to be closing in on me. I needed people or anonymity - I don't know which even now. I hadn't thought of hooking up, but when I saw him on the dance floor; I was drawn to him. The most beautiful women in the city were there, and I had my pick, but it was him that I wanted. He made me work for it though -he thinks I don't know- he would only make occasional eye contact and once a wry smile and then he would either turn back to his drink or the dance floor. When I saw him at the bar and he looked at me, daring me to approach. With that I went over to him and that was the beginning of something new.
CHAPTER 8
Orla
Ilisten intently to the sound of the diesel engine roaring off, growing faint the farther away it got until I was sure they were gone. I realize that I've been holding my breath and start gasping and crying. Until I'm absolutely sure they're gone, I don’t believe or dream in the process of allowing myself the relief. They could, at the last moment, decide to turn back and lock me in the box to await their return. They could devise some new and cruel method of torture for my time alone. I've learned not to take these moments of solitude in this room for granted. I think back to my life before all this happened and I miss all the simple things i got to enjoy. Then- I miss the freedom of being able to stay up in the middle of the night whether it be watching bad tv or scrounging around in my refrigerator. The feel of bare feet on the carpet and the freedom to choose what and when of my life. Missing the children at the school where I was a first-grade teacher and The life I had built for myself. That would have nothing to do with my father’s corrupted world. That I wasn't Ray Imperiali's daughter or a criminal's daughter -I was just Orla or Ms Tucker to my students. Because to feeling so wholesome and free of the bloodshed my family enjoyed more than myself. I took my grandmother's maiden name because it seemed so wholesome and free of the blood that had been shed for the life my family enjoyed. I try to bring my thoughts back to the present, but the anxiety that comes with it also makes me wonder how brief this vacation is going to be. It’s too much for me to not to overthink the outcome. So, I go back to Elmwood Elementary and the school concert that I would have been responsible for this year. Most of the teachers dread being put in charge of it, but it was the best day of my life when the principal told me I would be in charge of it this time. I even chose the theme for this year’s show, it’s Tales of Old. A celebration of old fashioned storytelling with music and fairytales. It would have been wonderful, but it's now a far-off dream while I live this nightmare.
I’ve already showered for the day, as I walk down the street my thoughts have diminished. It would feel nice to submerge myself in the water to just feel safe in the comfort of the warmth. So with no hope, I have to hold onto my little moments for the time I’ve got to myself. I turn the faucets and open the cupboards in hope of finding something that resembles a bubble bath. Any little treat to just feel human again. My dinner is delivered to me while I'm in the bath. I could not find anything to add to the hot water and prohibited from asking for anything. I just made do with shower gel and the flimsy bubbles it's created. It's not much, it isn’t what I have come to think of for this time to myself. I've learned to just take any small blessing or mercy. I wonder if that's the plan that these two have for me. To take me to have me stay until the point of Stockholm Syndrome or personalities that could come off as a needy and cloying simp. Just there for them to use me like a piece of Kleenex and be grateful for it because at least I'm not being tortured or confined. Grateful to be alive and breathing in this corrupted world they live in. I never thought I’d become the girl who says, “ Yes sir, No sir, and Thank you sir,” to men that treat women like a speck of dirt. I love both my parents despite the ups and downs I went through with my mother as I defied them at every turn. Rejected their plans for my life. My father accepted it, but my mother didn’t allow it. It wasn't the defiance of their expectations, but my father's growing respect for my need to forge my own path. I realized early on that my mother saw me as her competition as we both wanted my father’s affection and respect of how I lived my life just to make it worse. The same way Alex sees me, even though he has no need to and possibly doesn't even know he does. Then then I made my own decision to start my life the way I wanted to and it was all fine in the end. Everyone was happy, and I thought I'd finally found my lane. I thought I was finally free, but we're never ever really free of our parents' sins. The tentacles of their life found me and dragged me back to pay. I may not have been responsible for my father’s dealings but that didn’t leave me feeling confident. I was an unwilling beneficiary of its outcome which led to everyone else ponying up when the bill came. The water has since then cooled, while I can choose to add more hot water and prolonging this time or go to my room. Or to my room where I can have supper and sleep for as long as I want to for the time I’m allowed.
I decide to go with the next level up on the bath, to burn away the holes Kase caused me with the device he had around my neck the night before. For a moment I'd forgotten, but now the pain pushes me back to my reality and I feel a sudden urgency to get out of the bath and into bed. I wrap myself in a warm terrycloth robe and go and see what I've been given for dinner. Whoever prepares dinner always goes out of their way to add a little treat or flourish that makes the meal an event. I don't know how much they know or suspect, but even if it's a little kindness, I cherish it. Tonight, there's a black and white cookie with dinner. Hidden in the lid covering the food, and I inhaled it. It's been so long since I could simply walk down to the coffee shop near my apartment and order one. I sip the champagne and dig into the steak and vegetables that's been prepared. I eat like a prisoner, fresh out of solitary confinement. When I'm done, I look for something to write with and scribble a thank you on a piece of paper and put it on the plate. I know I'm risking a lot, but I doubt if Kase or Alex ever clear a plate or tray. Thinking about them depresses me and although I estimate that they haven't been gone that long, I still don't want to waste valuable time that I could use to try to get some sleep. I don't want to become accustomed to sleeping in the box, so I use every opportunity to retain some normalcy. I know at some point I will get out, wanting to be able to go back to my life. I may not be able to live that way without waking up in the middle of the night screaming or having trouble sleeping in a bed.
Iput the tray outside my door as I've been told to do to minimize my interaction with the staff and turn off the light. Opening the shades so that I can fall asleep while watching the night sky and the moonlight play on the grass outside. I hear the tray being cleared as I slowly drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER 9
Alex
The dinner at Le Creme was wonderful, but I can't shake the feeling that Kase is miles away from here. I don't know if it's my imagination or paranoia, but he seems preoccupied. It's not particularly unusual, but before I was assured that it was work or his way of finding how to avenge his father. But since, she entered in the picture it seems to be another thing considered. I know Kase has sowed his wild oats on multiple fields and why not, even without the power and money he holds, he exudes power. Even now as I dance, men and women use the chance to come on to him or send over drinks that he politely rejects. In those moments, I know he's mine, but when he stares off. In the distance, the doubt creeps in. I make my way back to the table mid-song. A guy approaches me, but I avoid him. I'm not exactly chopped liver but I know what I want, and I will have him. I just need to ride this out. No distractions, no doubts in his mind about my love and loyalty. I get into the booth and pull up close to him. I can feel the disappointment of a dozen hearts in the room, and it thrills me. He looks at me and smiles.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Babe, you're a million miles away." I tell him.
"It's scary how well you know me," He says and laughs.
"Is it her...?" I ask, dreading the answer.
"Who!?"
"Orla." I reply flatly.
"No, why would you think that? No. I was just thinking about Thursday. Wondering if perhaps you aren't right." He says, turning his drink in his hands.
"Right about what?" I ask.
"If this is a good idea or not? His father may be beleaguered now, but he's still a very powerful man and toying with him or antagonizing him when I have so much on the line. My dad always said that in seeking revenge, one always has to be careful of rousing slumbering monsters." He says.
"What did he mean?" I ask. I know the sleeping dog analogy, but not in this context.
