Masquerade

by Derek Masters

  She’s starting to cry, but I’m finding it very difficult to have any compassion or sympathy for her. The spoiled brat shouldn’t have gotten herself into something she knew nothing about. As far as I’m concerned, this is all on her.

  “So what is this, Brandon?” Dimos asks. “Who is this woman? What is her name?”

  “Her name?” I try to remember if she ever mentioned it, but nothing comes to mind. I never got her name. “Uh, I don’t know her name.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know her name? Do you think I’m stupid? You gave this perra access to your computer, and you don’t even know her name? How stupid can you be, amigo?!” He turns his attention to her. “What’s your name?” He gets in her face as he talks through his teeth.

  “Chloe,” she answers between gasps and tears.

  “There, her name is Chloe, but I’m sure you knew that already. So tell me, Brandon, are you both in on this? Were you working together to take us down or something? Help me make sense of this because I will not tolerate working with anyone who wants to double-cross us,” he spits on my floor, sneering at both of us.

  “No, I swear I’m not working with her at all. I don’t have a clue what in the hell she was doing. I don’t know who she is. I met her downstairs at the event and brought her up here for a quick fuck. Carlos showed up right after we were done, so I left her in here. It was nothing more than a temporary lapse in judgment,” I calmly explain. They might scare the piss out of her, but I refuse to show them fear, especially when I’m speaking the truth.

  “Is this true, Chloe?” Dimos asks.

  She nods in agreement.

  “Don’t you have a password on your computer, Brandon?” He asks, still looking at her.

  “Yes, I have no idea how she got into it. It’s all random characters. On top of that, the files were encrypted,” I say. “Check them if you want.”

  “That’s very interesting,” he says, scratching his head as he slowly turns to look in my direction. “So this random Perra, whom you’ve never met before tonight, and didn’t even know her name, conveniently finds herself alone in your office, manages to crack your password, break through the encryption placed on your files, and copied them to a flash drive all in the time it took for you to meet with me and come back? This sounds like the word of a professional. Are you positive you weren’t in on this?”

  “I swear to you, Dimos! I would never do something that dumb. Everything I have, I owe to the business you’ve given me. I don’t know how she did all of that in such a short amount of time, but I swear I didn’t give her access to anything, and I sure as fuck wasn’t working with her!” Having to explain myself and reason with them is starting to make my blood boil.

  “Brandon, we’ve been working with you for a long time, so I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt. Let me ask you something,” he says, a devilish smile curls around his lips.

  “I swear that I’m not ‘working’ with her,” I say with as much conviction as I can. While I won’t beg and grovel, I do want to convince them that I’m telling the truth so that I don’t end up with a bullet between my eyes. “She was just a one-night stand!”

  “You won’t have a problem with us killing her, then?” His voice booms.

  “No, not at all if that’s what you have to do,” I look over at her. Tears start to flood her eyes. “She did this to herself, so if you have to take her out, that’s what you have to do. All I ask is that if you’re going to kill her, please take her somewhere and do it far away from my property.” The last thing I need is to have a crime scene in my home or have my guests hear gunshots when they shoot her.

  “No, please, you don’t have to do this,” Chloe cries out, trying her best to get her words out while bawling at the same time. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry! Please, don’t kill me!”

  “Here’s the thing, Chloe,” Dimos says her name slowly and deliberately, speaking so calmly that it even unnerves me. “I’m not going to get exposed because some stupid Perra thought that she could take us on. We have no other choices,” he snarls with hate and disgust.

  “No, I don’t know anything. I still don’t––all I did was transfer the files. I’ve not even read them, and you’re holding them in your hand! Please, have mercy on me. It was a mistake. I won’t ever do anything like this again.”

  “Take your mask off,” he orders. “ I want to see your face.” She removes her mask, and she’s even more gorgeous than I thought. Masquerade masks don’t hide a lot, but I had no idea how beautiful she actually is. It’s almost a shame what’s going to happen to her. “Oh, Bonita! Aye aye aye!” he says, rubbing his dick through his pants. “It’s a shame you tried to betray us, and we’re going to have to waste you. If you weren’t such a perra, I’d keep you around to fuck, muchacha muy Bonita,” he moans.

  Her eyes grow wide, and she begins to speak, but he cuts her off, silencing her immediately.

  Holding his hand up, he says, “But we hear that a lot, promises to never do it again,” he rolls his eyes at her. “Here’s the thing, though. Ahora, you’ll say anything to get out of here alive. How do we know you’re not going to go straight to the authorities as soon as we leave?”

  She scrambles to her knees, clasping her hands tightly against her chest as she begs for her life, their mercy. “I won’t! I swear I won’t! I’ll forget any of this ever happened!”

  “Eso es muy triste,” that is very sad, he lets out a low whistle. “I wish I could believe you. The problem is, you already know too much. It’s over for you,” he cocks his gun as he grabs her by the arm, prepared to drag her out of here to kill her.

  “Please, I’ll do anything!” She cries out before she becomes hysterical. Her feet are sliding against the floor, desperate for traction as she loses one of her heels while her arms flail about in a futile attempt to get free.

  I can tell she’s scared and, for some unknown reason, I start to feel bad for her. Watching her beg and scramble to save her life while incoherently babbling has struck a nerve with me. The pit of my stomach aches, and bile rises in my throat. Every once in a while, my conscience decides to make an appearance, and it always happens at the most inconvenient times.

  “Wait a minute, I have an idea,” I say, knowing that even speaking at this point could potentially cost me my life. “Maybe there’s another arrangement that can be made.”

  “No, Brandon, it is what it is, amigo,” he shrugs his shoulders, disregarding her pleas for her life. “She has to be dead to the world. With the information she knows about us, there’s no way we can release her.”

  Suddenly, I see the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I want a slave, and here is a woman who is begging for her life.

  “I know a way that she can be dead to the world, but still very much alive––to me. I’ve been looking for a woman I can keep in the house forever. A woman who will belong to me and only me. I’m open to keeping her and never letting her leave the house, but only under one condition.”

  “Speak fast, amigo. You’re wasting my time!” He yanks her hair so hard as she tries to flee that it’s amazing it’s still attached to her scalp. “You really are a sick fuck, aren’t you Brandon?” Dimos asks as he gives me a pat on the back. “I’m open to this arrangement, but we’ll have to make some concessions.”

  “And what are those?” I ask, watching Chloe as she continues to struggle. Even knowing that she might have a chance to survive hasn’t calmed her down because she knows what living will mean for her.

  “She has to agree to it. She’ll either stay alive and have a life of slavery, or she dies,” he continues yanking her hair. “The most important thing will have to be my security team meeting with yours to ensure there will be safeguards in place to prevent her from ever escaping.”

  “Oh, she’s not going anywhere,” I promise him, smiling at the prospect of finally getting what I want. “I think this will work out best for everyone involved,” I tell him before turning to my new pe
rsonal sex slave.

  Chapter 7

  Chloe

  What in the hell was I thinking? How could I have done something so stupid and so reckless? Now look at me. I’m in this office, crying like a baby and begging for my life. I thought this was a simple case of fudging the numbers and laundering money. I had no clue I’d discover something much bigger, and now I wish I could take it all back.

  Minding my own business is something I’ve never been good at doing. My ego is too big for that, and, as I always do, I allowed my ego to get the best of me. I allowed myself to believe I’m something that I’m obviously not.

  Seriously, why did I have it in my head that I could be some big shot, hard-hitting journalist? I’m far from it. I’m nothing more than a student playing make-believe. As a matter of fact, I can’t even say that. I’m not even a student anymore. I’m nothing now that I’m not in school. I have no identity.

  How did I think I was going to be able to pull something like this off? What did I get myself involved in? These questions keep shuffling on repeat in my mind.

  They say that before you die, your entire life flashes before your eyes. I’ve always thought this was bullshit, but as I stared down the barrel of the loaded gun pointed directly at my face, my twenty years flashed before me in an instant.

  In a way, that makes me sad. Besides graduating high school and being the daughter of a prominent political figure, I haven’t really accomplished anything, unless you count bringing shame to your family by being a normal college kid.

  Just moments ago, I thought my life was coming to an end. I was sure I was about to lose my life, and I’m still not sure I’m out of the woods just yet. I try thinking about what I can do to get myself out of this situation. I debate screaming and yelling and calling out for my father to help me. With the loud music, I doubt I’d be heard. Even if he did happen to hear me, I don’t know that there’s much he’d be able to do in this situation. He’d probably just shake his head and walk away. Who knows how deep he is into this mess. I’m not sure I even want to know.

  I was certain that the man with the gun was going to pull the trigger at any moment until Brandon suggested that I be his slave in exchange for the cartel sparing my life.

  My brain is scrambling, trying to make sense of all of this, but it’s just not working. There’s too much going on in my head. I know what he said, but at the same time, I don’t think he’s serious about it. He can’t just keep a human being as his personal slave. He’s not a stupid man, so he’s probably just thinking one step ahead of them. This is likely nothing more than a ploy he’s using to prevent the cartel from killing me. He’s just telling the cartel that he wants me as a slave so he can keep me alive until they leave. After that, I’ll be able to go home and put an end to this nightmare. That has to be it….right?

  “Chloe, do you understand the arrangement,” Brandon asks, bringing me quickly back to reality. “From here on out, you belong to me. I own you and will control everything you do.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, I’ll be your slave. Thank you for doing this for me,” I breathe in a sigh of relief as I express my gratitude. “You’re saving my life, and I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. I can be a great slave. I can do anything you want. I can do all the cooking and cleaning you need. You just tell me what needs to be done, and I’ll do it.”

  Dimos starts to laugh, and Carlos follows right behind him. I look up at Brandon, and through all the tears, I can tell that even he is having trouble keeping a straight face. He is at least trying to hide his amusement, and whatever I said that was so hilarious.

  “You stupid Perra,” Dimos says once he catches his breath enough to actually be able to speak. “You think he wants to keep you around to cook and clean? That’s what he has maids for.” I stare blankly at him as he holds his gut while laughing. “Are you an la burra? Only an idiota would be so grateful. Your only purpose for the rest of your life will be to make sure he is satisfied in any way he needs. I have to say, you must have an amazing pussy for him to be willing to take this risk.”

  Oh my God! Of course that’s what he means! How could I have not known what he was talking about? I assumed he had meant slave in the literal sense. I figured he wanted to keep me around to do any work he needed. That wasn’t what he meant at all. He wants to keep me for sex. My pussy is still sore and swollen from the fucking that he just gave me.

  Brandon is smirking, nodding his head in agreement with Dimos. My stomach is turning, and I feel dirty. Men have always looked at me, especially because I developed at an early age, but never before have I ever felt as objectified as I do right now. No amount of soap or hot water could ever wash this feeling away. I hold onto hope that this is just a ploy and that I’ll be sleeping in my own bed when the night is over.

  “Do you understand?” Brandon asks, pushing his face within a mere inch of mine. His warm whiskey breath assaults my nostrils all over again. His question is rhetorical.

  Regardless of whether or not this is a ploy on his part, it’s my only way out. I look at the floor with tears falling at my feet and nod my head.

  “Okay, Carlos, go ahead and put the gun away,” Dimos commands. I exhale a long breath after realizing that it won’t be the last one that I take. “How soon can you get your security team assembled for a meeting?”

  “I can have them together within the hour,” Brandon casually replies while he picks some dirt out of his nails as though he didn’t just acquire a sex slave.

  “Perfect. We’ll be back in an hour with our crew to see to it that she never leaves. I’m going to need our men to work together to check every nook and cranny of this place.”

  “Fine,” Brandon says, annoyed that he doesn’t trust him, but I understand his concerns after the situation we were just in. “The event will still be going on, so I’d appreciate it if the inspection could be as inconspicuous as possible.”

  “Amigo,” Dimos says with a sneer in his voice. “We know how important these events are to our business. We don’t want to raise any concerns with the attendees.”

  Brandon nods at his response.

  “Brandon, I hope you know that you owe me. What I’ve done here for you is not something I would normally do. I only extended this offer because we are very happy with the work you’ve done for us up to this point. Make no mistake about it, though. You are expendable and can be replaced if need be.”

  Cracking his neck from side to side, Brandon gives him a deadpan stare. “I know.”

  “I don’t think you do, so I want to make myself perfectly clear because I don’t want there to be any confusion on your part. This agreement is only valid as long as she’s kept with you. She can never be allowed to leave the confines of this house for any reason. She can’t leave to go shopping. She can’t leave to get her nails done. Anytime she leaves is a chance that she can escape. Her escape puts everything we’ve built in danger. She is yours to do what you wish, but only as long as she remains under this roof. If we find out she’s left, and trust me, we will find out about it, it will be your head. I will come back personally and put a bullet in both of your skulls, so you better be sure of yourself.”

  Brandon stares at me, making sure that I understand. “You can trust me,” he replies.

  “I hope so for your sake. Come on, Carlos, let’s get out of here; we’ve got work to do,” he stalks toward the door as he keeps a watchful eye on me.

  They leave the room, and I’ve never been so relieved. I don’t know what’s going to happen from here, but at least my life is no longer being threatened.

  Brandon and I are left in the office. He takes a seat in his office chair and buries his face in his hands. For a moment, I think that he may start crying, but when he removes his hands, I can see that he’s simply stressed and pissed off. It’s hard to blame him right now, but he has to be relieved that it’s all over as well.

  Sitting back in his chair, he lets out a long sigh and proceeds to stare at me while slo
wly shaking his head, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. I return his stare, the salty liquid from my eyes rolling down my cheeks, expecting him to say something, but he remains silent.

  The fact that he’s not saying anything is driving me crazy. Tell me something. Tell me anything! Let me know the next step in getting out of this. Let me know where I stand in everything. Building up my courage as my mind goes wild, risking my sanity, I know I need to speak on my side of everything. He just saved my life, so I have to let him know how sorry I am to have gotten us into the situation in the first place. Still fighting back the tears, I take a deep breath and start to spill my guts.

  “I’m so sorry for all of this, Brandon. This was never my intention. Had I known how serious all of this was, I would never have gotten involved. I just want you to know that I regret going through your computer, especially now that I see what kind of person you are. You were kind enough to try and save my life, even though that meant risking yours.”

  “Enough!” He hisses, slamming his fist down onto the solid oak desk, causing me to yelp. “I don’t want to hear any bullshit about how sorry you are or how much you regret you have over what you did, and I sure as fuck don’t want to hear about how kind I am to save your life. I saved your life for two reasons. One, because it saved mine and two, because it gives me something I’ve wanted. No, something I’ve needed for a long, long time.”

  “I know, but…,” he doesn’t let me finish my sentence.

  “But nothing, Chloe! I don’t want to hear any of your childish excuses. I’m tired of hearing you try to minimize your role in all of this, and I’m sick of hearing your apologies. How about we start with the truth, and you tell me everything!”

  “I’ve told you the truth.”

  “No!” He yells, this time slamming both fists down onto his desk. “You’ve told me whatever you think will save your ass. I want to know who you are. I want to know who you’re working with. Most importantly, I want to know who sent you to look through my files!”