by D W Marshall
I almost told him about the money twice. Knowing about the four million dollars I received from Mason wouldn’t just lift his mood, he could actually bounce back and return to the amazing business career he had before.
But I haven’t told him; I haven’t told anyone.
Even when I think I might be able to, I can’t fix my mouth to say the words. Knowing how much I could help the people that I love makes me feel even more guilty for keeping this to myself. But to speak it makes what happened to me more than real.
The money makes me feel dirty.
When I do get the courage to tell him, I hope he is happy and doesn't look at me differently. This is the man I hope to spend the rest of my life with, and I plan to do everything in my power to help him—I just need to tell him when I’m ready and that isn’t right now.
“Come with me,” Amaris says and pulls me to stand. She sets me in the chair in front of my mirror.
She goes to work fixing my makeup. “You can do this. You deserve to look beautiful for your fiancé,” Amaris says.
“He isn't my fiancé, Amaris.”
“He will be after tonight, sweets,” Chalice says and mists me with body spray.
I roll my eyes at them both. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I say under my breath.
The doorbell rings just as Amaris finishes retouching my makeup. My stomach hits the floor.
Daddy knocks on the door and pokes his head in. “Baby, Thomas is here. You ready?”
I slip on my matching heels and follow my dad out of my bedroom door and down the hall, my girls on my heels.
“Baby, you look beautiful,” Daddy says.
“Thanks, Daddy. I wish Mom was here.”
He shakes his head. “She does, too. She hated leaving when you just got home. But she called today and said your grandmother is doing much better, so she and your sisters will be home before you know it,” he promises and gives me a kiss on my forehead.
Thomas stands up from the sofa to greet me. He is stunning. His dark brown skin looks divine in his ocean blue suit that is tailor-made for him. “Wow, Whitney. You take my breath away,” he says and takes the short steps to me. He acknowledges my gals and reaches his hand out for me. I take it. Can he feel how moist my palms are? If he does, he’s too much of a gentleman to react to it.
“Thomas, take care of my baby,” Daddy says.
“Yes, sir, I will.”
Chapter Two
The Chamber, Week One
“Are you ready for tonight?” I ask Violet.
She shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s possible. Are you?”
I let out a long sigh and take a seat next to her on her bed. The way she has her red hair tied in a high ponytail, revealing fresh freckled skin make her appear much too young to be in a place like this. Not that my twenty years qualifies me. No person should be subjected to this horror.
Violet and I are roommates in this horrible place. It’s only been a week since we were brought here. A lot has happened, but tonight is the big night. Our first night with the men in our individual rooms. My stomach churns thinking about it.
“I’m scared to death. Literally shaking.” I hold my hand up and show her the tremor that has been with me since I was taken. “I don’t think I can do this.”
She wraps her arms around me and I copy the action. We sit in silence holding one another, comforting each other in our time of need, we both sob.
“Sunshine.” A voice I am already too familiar with calls from the door.
I look up and find Layne, my groomer, standing there. I squeeze Violet. “Are we sure it’s too late to try to break out?” I whisper into her ear.
“Where would we go?” she asks.
“At least we’re not alone. I’ll say a prayer for you,” I say.
“Me too,” she says.
“Iris should be along any minute for you, Violet,” Layne says. If we were anywhere else her smile would be comforting. She is a beautiful woman, with long light brown hair, a lithe body, and bright green eyes. But she works here; she is one of them. According to Mason, our groomers are supposed to be our right-hand person in this place. The way I see it, if you work here, you can’t be trusted.
I follow Layne through the zigzagging halls. When we arrive at the spa Flame, Sky, and Raven are already there. We offer each other smiles that were meant to comfort, but instead relay our fears. Within a few minutes the room fills with all seven of us, and our groomers. We sit in salon chairs, while the groomers, poke and prod, smooth and tweeze. Lane reclines my chair and instructs me to flip over onto my stomach. She gives me the most amazing massage I have ever had.
I feel a hand graze my skin. I raise my hand in search of the touch and grasp the hand of the person next to me—Sky.
Tears spill from my eyes and hit the floor below me. I can’t believe this is my life.
“Ladies. Ladies. It’s time!” Mason’s deep voice breaks through the silence.
Layne steps away from me, and I sit up on the edge of my seat. I lock eyes with Mason, for a brief second, before his gaze slides down to admire each of us. A smile on his face—pride. A cold shiver shoots through my body.
“We have no time to waste. The lucky winners are already here waiting. Make me proud,” he says, then turns on his heel and walks out.”
None of us says a word, but the energy is palpable—fear.
Layne sits next to me. “We have to go. I still need to get you dressed.”
Like a doll that isn’t capable of dressing itself, I follow her back through the maze and into my chamber—yellow everywhere, so much yellow. On the bed, on the walls. Not the furniture, that’s dark wood. I follow Layne to my chamber bathroom. She makes fast work of sweeping my hair into a messy updo, and I step into a sleek yellow gown that is completely sheer, held together by two ties that are like nooses against my skin.
“Beautiful,” Layne says.
“Montreal is at the bottom of the stairs, should you need anything. Good luck.”
Layne slips away, leaving me alone. Before I have a chance to panic, a man is standing in the doorway—my first visitor for the night.
“Sunshine, you are dazzling,” he says. The man stalks forward. He is tall, well over six feet with deep olive-skin, and a muscular build. I stay put as he crosses the room to me. While I do my best to control my breathing—even still my head swirls and gets light. Passing out would be the best and worst thing for me to do right now.
I’ve had sex before. I have a boyfriend, had a boyfriend. But never like this, against my will. Prettied up like a doll for this man, and the many others waiting their turn.
“Call me, Connell.”
He is so close to me. His hand grazes my arm, leaving cold in its wake. “I’ve put my name in the hat for two years to get a coveted spot in Mason’s fuck-fest. I plan to make every second memorable, starting with you. His lips are on mine, at first gentle, almost sweet. I kiss him back, afraid of what would happen if I chose instead to stand mannequin still.
“Yes, Sunshine.” He breathes into my mouth as he undoes the bottom tie.
My breath catches in my throat. Tremors rattle through me. My dress gathers into a puddle on the floor between us. My mind goes to my family, Thomas. I will never survive this, but I have to. He steps back and stares at me. He motions for me to spin around and my stomach rolls with nausea when he whistles his appreciation.
“Fucking splendid,” he says and cups one of my breasts in his hand and begins licking and slurping my nipple. “Are you wet for me?” he asks and plunges an unknown number of fingers deep inside me. “Fuck yeah you are.”
Tears begin pooling in my eyes, and I tip my head back trying to coax them back to where they came from—epic fail. Instead they roll down the sides of my face. I swipe them quick and pretend to have brought my arms up to play in his hair.
“You like that?” he asks.
“Yes.” I lie. My heart is pounding through my chest.
I gasp when he
picks me up. He holds onto my ass and tosses me onto the bed. He stares down at me, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at me. More tears invade, and I don’t attempt to wipe them.
“Don’t be afraid, love. Sex is a beautiful thing. Time has made it into something more intimate and personal.” He watches me as he unbuttons his shirt, slow and deliberate, never taking his eyes off me.
I fight the sobs that want to break through.
“Animals in nature don’t need to court each other. A dog can walk up to another dog on the street, fuck it senseless and go about its day. Humans assigned labels to sex. When it is primal and organic, it’s like an addictive drug.”
His shirt falls to the floor. He is as strong as he looked clothed. A chest and abdomen that is rippled with muscles, not bulky, but tight and hard. Dark hair lightly covers his chest and trails down his stomach. I tear my eyes from his body when his hands go for his belt.
“I won't be gentle, but I promise to leave you wanting so much more.”
When his pants hit the floor, my body shakes more. But I don't have much time to contemplate my immediate future. He falls forward in a swift motion and sinks his cock inside of me. My eyes widen to double their size with the fullness of him. He watches me, as he pulls out of me and slams back inside of me, over and over. My body takes over despite my fight for it not to do so. Traitorous moans escape me, my back arches wanting more.
“Feel it, Sunshine.”
He pushes deep inside of me and stays there this time, moving his hips in circles, punishing me with his fullness. I match his motions until I come apart, my body slamming into his and pushing so hard my bones ache. I shake and shutter, and yell out.
“My turn,” he says and flips me over onto my stomach, pulling me onto my knees.
He grabs onto my ass and pulls until my back is arched in the extreme. “I am going to fuck you so hard you’ll dream about me.” He pushes inside me, slower this time. Moaning as he does it. Then he raises my legs off the bed. While holding onto them, he picks up speed, pumping his cock inside of me with desperation, until he shouts and squeezes my skin, filling me with his essence.
I collapse onto the bed, and he falls next to me.
“What do you think? Carnal. Not scary?”
I don’t say what I’m thinking, which is: yes, it would be if I met you at a club and made the decision to do this with you. “Still scary, but you made it less scary. Yes, carnal.”
He runs his fingers through my hair. Unexpected.
“We are going to be spending a lot of time together. In time it won’t be scary at all, I promise. Thank you for being my first.”
My eyes get big. His first?
“Chambermaid, I mean.”
He kisses me on the lips, grabs his clothes and leaves.
Chapter Three
Whitney
The restaurant is gorgeous—the kind of place you spend hours getting dressed up for—located inside of the lavish Crane Beach Hotel that sits near the water.
Thomas leans forward and says to the host. “Reservation for two under Thomas Ackerly.” The man scans a tablet for our reservation. Thomas oozes power and confidence. No one would ever guess at him having money problems. Maybe my gals were right and he is planning a romantic proposal. Otherwise, why would a man with money problems bring his girlfriend to such an expensive restaurant. “I requested a table near the window overlooking the ocean,” he continues.
“Yes, sir. I believe your table is ready.”
I fidget when the host smiles and stares at me too long. Thrusting me back into my uncomfortable place. Thomas pulls me closer to him. He feels it too.
The gentleman takes us to our table and like Thomas requested, we are seated along a series of windows overlooking the water. “Beautiful,” I say. I can only imagine how amazing the view will be when the sun sets. Thomas pulls my seat out for me.
Wow, he makes me feel special.
“Good evening, and welcome to L’Azure,” a waitress says, her islander accent like a soothing song. The two of us look up. “Would you like to start with a drink?”
Thomas clears his throat. “Your best champagne,” he says.
I watch him as he commands attention. He has always had this powerful presence, as if he is leagues more important in status than he is. I know that’s one reason he brought me here, even when he and I both know this place is too expensive. He knows his worth. Which is why he has always been so successful in business, and another reason that I believe in my heart that he will land on his feet and bounce back quickly. I hope the same for myself.
When the waitress leaves, I brace myself to say what’s on my mind. “Thomas, I know you want to make tonight special, but maybe you shouldn’t spend so much money. I’d be fine with a lot less—” I glance around the room, “—extravagance.”
Thomas slides his hand over mine. “Darling, everything is fine. I’ve got an amazing deal in the works that will change everything.” His smile is dazzling.
This news cheers me up. I have too much in my life to feel guilty for, and Thomas’ career getting back on track would take one thing off my heavily loaded plate. “That’s fantastic news, Thomas. You deserve all the success.”
He flashes me a dashing smile before saying, “We deserve it.”
A man comes to our table with champagne and two glasses. He opens the bottle, fills our glasses with flair, leaving the bottle.
“Whitney, a year ago when you went missing, I went crazy. I was lost without you. I didn’t care about my business or anything else, just finding you.” He raises his glass. But I don’t join him in the action. The lump finds my throat again and it takes everything in my body not to cry. I risk ruining such a beautiful night by turning into a slobbering baby.
“I’m sorry for what you lost,” I manage to say to him.
He takes my hand and sets his glass down.
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m resilient, and now that you’re home I feel like I can do anything. This is a cause for celebration, not tears, eh.” He picks up his glass again and gestures for me to pick up mine, and I do. “To the love of my life coming back to me,” he says, and we both take a drink. The champagne is refreshing and the perfect amount of sweet. Delicious. My eyes catch the familiar little blue velvet box as Thomas places it on the table.
I gasp. “Thomas.” I set my glass down and look at him, stunned. He is so good-looking and confident. The kind of guy most parents dream of their daughter finding. Handsome, strong, intelligent. I count myself as lucky enough to be sitting opposite this man that still wants me.
Thomas opens the box. The ring is stunning, but simple. A white gold band with a single solitaire, surrounded by a bouquet of three rows of smaller diamonds. “It’s beautiful,” I say.
He snaps the box shut. “Tonight, I plan to make all of your dreams come true. But I need a favor.”
My face must bare my confusion. What favor could possibly be tied to a proposal? “Anything,” I say.
Thomas leans forward and I mimic the action. “There’s a man upstairs. A client.”
I don't say anything because I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Thomas gets up from his chair and moves it around the table to sit next to me. “I want us to go into business together, become a team.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of team?”
His smile broadens. “The client is going to pay me twenty-five hundred dollars to spend a couple of hours with you.”
There is no way that I’m hearing him right. This man that I love. I know that my brain twisted what he actually said into something heart-wrenching and horrific. Because if what I think he said is in fact what he said, then my world will tip on its axis.
“I couldn’t have heard you right. What is this client expecting me to do with him for a couple of hours?”
“Don’t you see? This is the answer to everything. We’d be in business together. I’m not asking you to do anything you haven’t done b
efore, only this time it won’t be by force. It’ll be empowering now because you’re choosing to do this, completely consensual, and best of all, you’ll be paid. We’ll be paid.” His smile is wide and proud.
I sit and stare at this man I just realized I can't possibly know, not really. I have no words.
After everything I’ve been through, this is how he sees me? Has he always seen me this way?
I can only manage to stare at him, no, through him. The sounds in the restaurant become muffled, lost in the background. The only sound I can hear is the thudding of my heart as it pulses loudly throughout my body.
He takes my hands into his. I don’t give them to him freely or pull them away; it’s as though part of me isn’t here anymore. My body is numb, like I’m not sitting at this table in this beautiful oceanfront restaurant, next to the man who was supposed to love me but just offered me the equivalent of a knife to my chest, piercing my heart with monstrous precision.
Nothing in my year-long captivity could have prepared me for this moment. Dreaming of reuniting with Thomas gave me hope and strength in my darkest time. I believed he could save me from my nightmares. I could have never prepared myself for this reality…he is my nightmare.
Even as the tears roll down my cheeks, the excitement in his voice never wanes.
Ignoring my reaction, he continues, “I’ve given this a lot of thought. If you spend ten hours a week working we’d clean up, twenty-five thousand a week, a hundred thousand a month. Eventually, we’ll hire more women and you can sit back and collect money. What do you think?”