Deviant Fixation

by Valencia Carmelita

  "she taught you well in whoring." Naheed lets out another sly chortle.

  "Word has spread of your lewd behavior, running away with white men. How much shame you've brought upon Asad."

  "I'm not lewd! Allah knows!" I insist emphatically. "You wanted to frame me for mr.Mirza's murder! Why?! Don't deflect the subject!"

  Her laughter ceases again and she crisply replies. "I know how much Bilal means to you...but only time will tell how genuine your love for your brother truly is."

  "What do you mean?" Instantly I vault to my feet in complete alertness. "Don't you dare hurt Bilal!"

  "Or what ?" She spat challengingly. "You'll get your little white boyfriends on me?"

  "Please don't hurt Bilal!" My beg nearly falters.

  "Why are you doing this?! Have you not gotten what you needed, having me and Bilal away from baba?"

  "Tsk tsk.." She clucks her tongue in feigned disappointment. "The question from you should be, Naheed I'll do whatever you ask..."

  "What is it you need?!" My voice raises in despair. "Just don't hurt Bilal!"

  "Return to Imran at once." She orders without delay in a harsher tone.

  Further distress nips at me as flashbacks of Imran's abuse bombards my mind. "No..please don't do this please I beg you for the sake of Allah have mercy !"

  "You have 10 days to return" She evades my mournful plea and continues. "..if not, then Bilal can say bye bye to dunya and hello to akhirah."

  "Please! Don't do this to us!" My repeated begs fall onto deaf ears as the line on the other end goes dead.

  I redial the number but to no avail since she's turned the phone off.

  How can she be so heartless? How can anyone be so evil ?!

  I pace back and forth, thoughts singed with terror over Bilal's safety. Wracking my mind for a possible way out of Naheed's diabolical ploy.

  I had promised my mother in her last moments, I'd look after Bilal, keep him safe.

  Here I was myself completely unsafe while having left Bilal exposed to potential danger.

  What do I do ? Ya'Allah help me ! Inwardly I implore as a horrid migraine begins to pound it's way into my head.

  ◆◆◆

  "Miss Rachael has left for an important meeting at the corporations two hours ago." Anya exclaims, as she busily flutters the feather duster over objects in the foyers seating lounge area.

  My shoulders slump in dismay. I really anticipated seeing her this morning in order to share with her the devastating news of Mr.Mirza's life ending illness.

  I wasn't sure if I could reveal to her about Naheed and her evil implications concerning my brothers safety.

  Anya pauses dusting and pivots toward me with apparent concern. "Is there something troubling you Miss Kashani? Do you want me to have Miss Rachael phoned?"

  "Oh no it's fine.." I decline, shaking my head. "I'll just wait till she gets back, thanks."

  It was best that I spoke to Rachael face to face instead of break the news to her in the midst of what could be some crucial business interaction. I didn't want to cause her distress there.

  "You look very tired!" Anya remarks as she places her hands on her hips and examines me with brows furrowed. "You must be hungry!"

  "I don't want to dine with the rest of the family!" I blurt an immediate objection.

  Heck no! After the previous mornings harsh events, I had no desire to commit the same blunder again.

  No desire to be seated at the same table with that heartless jerk who nearly had me eat haraam.

  Anya beams me a knowing sheepish smile and suggests. "Since Miss Rachael isn't here, you may breakfast in the servants quarters with us or in your bedroom."

  "But isn't all the delivered food being served with pig meat?" I query.

  "Mrs.Agnelli can cook you something without it" She offers.

  "But how?" I raise my brows incredulously. " that jerk banned-I mean wasn't cooking until further notice explicitly banned by your boss?"

  I hope she ignores the jerk reference made by me of her demented employer.

  "It can be arranged." She answers in a hopeful expression. "Mister Nielsen seldom visits the kitchen, so he won't know."

  "Okay.." I draw in a shaky breath. "Just be careful..I wouldn't want you or Mrs.Agnelli to lose their jobs on account of me!"

  Or get killed by that fiend! I shudder inwardly.

  "Don't worry." Anya responds, smiling widely. "Mister Nielsen isn't as bad as you might think!"

  My eyes distend in alarm at her words. What?! Is this girl nuts?! She dwells here, she should know better!

  The guy is Mafia for one, secondly seems to enjoy killing people for the fun of it without any apologies, and thirdly hates me for no valid reason at all.

  Wait...the list doesn't seem to end there! He is a control freak! Treats his sister's with disrespect. I bet he thinks he's God's gift to women. Treats Huxley as if younger than him when he's his elder.

  What part of any of those traits does she believe aren't bad? In fact bad was an understatement. He is as evil if not more evil than all the other evil people I've unfortunately met so far in my short 18 years of existence.

  I let out a scoff of disagreement, readying to voice my objection on the jerk's character when the sound of clacking heels intrude.

  "Oh Anya!?" A sassy but shrill voice pierces the air.

  We promptly look behind us in this newcomers direction. I'm speechless to spot a tall and slender beautiful brunette woman with very fair skin. She looks to be in her mid 20's.

  Dressed in a most stylishly extravagant fashion from head to toe. She's approaching us yet has her eyes downcast, focused on her smartphone clutched in her hands.

  Anya groans in displeasure and tersely responds "Yes Miss Volodov?"

  "A glass of bourbon." The lady requests as she continues skimming her fingers on the phone screen without looking up.

  "Will you not be dining for breakfast with mister Nielsen?" Anya questions.

  "No, Vladimir and I will be spending half the day together." Absentmindedly she replies.

  "Alright Miss Volodov, I'll serve you the bourbon." Anya complies, ready to stroll off in the kitchens direction.

  "Oh wait!" I halt her. She turns towards me with a questioning look. "I'll accompany you."

  "No problem, Miss Kashani." She nods.

  I throw a glance in the well dressed woman's direction. I find her finally gazing at me with an unmistakable mixture of contempt and alarm. Her eyes are of a piercing green-grey hue. In a split second she recovers her composure.

  "Is this a new maid?" She inquires sternly.

  "No, she's actually a guest.." Anya shakes her head in denial. "..um Miss Volodov meet Miss Sanam Kashani and Miss Kashani this is Miss Ilona Volodov."

  "Nice to meet you Miss Volodov." I take a step in Ilona's direction and proffer my hand out for a handshake.

  She stares at my hand as if it's coated with garbage and then flits her gaze back to my face. I stare nervously back at her.

  While evading my greeting, she addresses Anya. "A Muslim guest ?"

  Then she converses with Anya in the Russian language so I wouldn't understand.

  Anya's face reddens the slightest and she responds. "Yes, she's-"

  Ilona cuts her off in disbelief and in English again. "Why ever would Vladimir harbour a Muslim as a guest much less a maid?!"

  "That's because I'm not a maid and I'm not his guest!" I assert in sudden exasperated anger. "Whatever you have to say about me you can say in English!"

  Her eyes widen in shock at me before quickly narrowing in fury and she warns. "Don't you dare address me in such a way, you have no idea who I am!"

  I bite my bottom lip, suppressing another urge to demand what her issue was with me. She doesn't even know me!

  "Miss Kashani.." Anya entreats with a pleading look to her eyes. "Please don't say more.."

  My lips press into a thin line of agitation. But right then A quick thought occurs.

  Whoever thi
s Ilona Volodov is, could possibly be as dangerous as Vladimir. Right then I recall the initial encounter I had with him in the park.

  Huxley had brought up this woman's name and the jerk was apparently on call with her. I wonder what relation was she to the Nielsens.

  "Sanam is a guest on account of Rachael and I." Comes a swift and solid reply from elsewhere.

  All three of us focus our attention in the direction of the right stairwell. With their arms crossed over their chests, stand a serious Katie and Bev. Both of their eyes narrowed in on Ilona.

  "Katherine and Beverly!" Ilona's stance turns friendly as she saunters over towards them. "How are you my darlings?!"

  She leans forward and kisses both of Katie's cheeks before greeting Bev in a likewise manner. The teens look at her with unchanged expressions, not bothering to return the kisses.

  "Oh! How much I've missed you girls so!" Ilona exclaims while throwing her palm against her chest. At her dramatic gesture, Bev snorts and rolls her eyes. Ilona briefly wrinkles her nose at her in disapproval.

  Choosing to evade Ilona's greeting, Katie remarks. "You shouldn't be so rude towards our guest."

  "Oh darling!" Ilona crosses both of her palms flat against her chest in a despaired expression. "it was a little misunderstanding, really!"

  Then she turns in our direction and with a well manicured hand, points towards Anya accusingly. "That maid of yours knows nothing in the art and etiquette of properly introducing guests!"

  Anya stares agape, startled in disbelief at Ilona just as I do.

  What a lying and dramatic woman!

  Before her, Katie continues incredulously. "Well now you know, so please be considerate."

  Ilona suppresses herself from a scowl as she cracks her a tight smile. "If I may ask, why is she a guest?"

  "Hasn't Vladimir told you already?" Bev queries with a dubious look. "Sanam rescued Arielle from Pierre's men."

  "Oh my Goodness!" Ilona gasps in shock while covering her lips with her hand.

  Bev rolls her eyes again and adds. "Long story short, Sanam is our guest for now."

  "Surely,Rachael could have paid her 10 dollars as a reward!" Ilona quips with an undertone of irritation.

  "..surely that would have sufficed enough as a payment, i mean more appropriate than having a complete stranger lodge in your residence!"

  This time I find myself rolling my eyes.

  Is this woman serious ?

  I didn't even want to be here in the first place, I didn't want anyones money!!!

  "That is none of your concern." Katie declares with severity. Then she glances in Anya's direction. "The delivered meal needs unpacking in the kitchen."

  "Yes Miss Katherine" Anya complies and motions me to tag along which I promptly do. I want to be far distance myself from that woman's nasty attitude.

  "Oh, maid! Don't forget my glass of bourbon!" Ilona calls after us in a singsong reminder. Anya curses under her breath in Russian.

  "Who is that?" I ask once we are out of their sight.

  "Unfortunately that is Mister Nielsen's girlfriend." Anya replies bitterly. "..don't know what he loves so much about her! Rotten personality triumphs her beauty! Nothing but a rotten woman! He deserves better than her!"

  I suppress the urge to tell her they both seem like a perfect match for each other. In their possession, were the unbearable countenances and personalities. Yet the two are over the top attractive in the physical looks department.

  Albeit, inwardly I found myself agreeing with Anya; the personality traits of the woman was rotten and overshadowed her beauty. It was also the same result in Vladimir's case.

  Yep! Their love seems like a match made in heaven...err in hell more like it.

  "And who's this Pierre character the Nielsens mention every now and then?" I finally ask the question that's been nagging in the back of my mind for so long.

  I hope she tells me since getting an answer out of Rachael proved fruitless.

  Anya pauses mid step, throws me an alert sideways glance before exclaiming. "We can't really say unless the Nielsens permit us the disclosure of such details."

  "Oh.." I say disappointedly.

  "Sorry.." She provides me an apologetical look. "You can ask Rachael directly."

  As if she would reveal that to me!

  I remembered last week in her t.v. lounge. She had expressed clear displeasure at my probing of her private Mafia family affairs.

  "It's alright." I say blankly, with a discernible nod.

  ◆◆◆

  It's been an hour since I have shared Mr.Mirza's letter with Rachael. An hour since she's been weeping silently, hunched over the letter. Re-reading it until its crispness waned from soaking in her falling tears.

  I sit besides her in her room and drape an arm around her shoulders. While trying to blink back the tears pooling within my own eyes.

  Finally she clears her throat, yet her voice emerges raspy. "He could have atleast left his phone service on..."

  I merely nod in agreement.

  She shifts besides me and gets to her feet. "I need some bourbon."

  She moves across to the fire place mantle.

  Pouring herself two glasses of bourbon from a crystal decanter.

  "I don't drink alcohol." I remind her. She mouths a silent 'oh' and places one of the glasses back before making her way over to me.

  Taking a sip, she proceeds to solemnly ask . "When are you turning 19?"

  "Three more months." I answer.

  "He's left you his wealth..."

  "I don't need it."

  Right then, she stares at me as if I've suddenly sprouted another head. "But it's your ticket of safety out of here!"

  "I must return to my husband." I exhale a defeated sigh, remembering Naheed's threats.

  "What?!" She looks alarmed and places her glass of bourbon on the bedside table. "You can't go back! Are you out of your mind?! They will kill you!"

  Should I reveal to her the reasoning behind my decision?

  Would she understand that I needed to keep my little brother safe even if it meant sacrificing myself?

  "Why are you doing this, Sanam?" Clamping both hands on my shoulder, she looks me in the eyes gravely.

  "We have gone over this before many times, you can't go back. I will not allow it. You will take Mr.Mirza's money and you will start a new life with your brother somewhere safe."

  Before I know it, I lean forward into her arms and start bawling mournfully. "They will hurt my brother!"