by Anna Edwards
Amy surveyed Miranda as she took her empty plate. She was slim, smartly dressed, and held herself well. Her hair and nails were clearly attended to professionally on a regular basis. She looked like she was in her mid- to late-forties, but with a twenty-eight-year-old son, Amy suspected she may be a little older.
" I am just going to see what clothes Sophie has that can you wear."
Amy called after her as she headed out of the kitchen, "Is Sophie his sister?"
Miranda called back. "Yes. Help yourself to another pastry. Nobody leaves my kitchen hungry."
Amy chose a ripe apple from the fruit bowl, and a phone vibrated on the counter. She looked and saw the message was from James to his mother. She knew she shouldn't, but she then read the brief notification header.
It is all trashed. Keep Amy there.
Amy read the message again, before it disappeared. Trashed? What had been trashed. She grabbed the phone and sped through the house calling for Miranda, who appeared quickly from another bedroom with clothes in her hand.
Amy held her phone up to her. "Where is James?"
The elder lady snatched it from Amy, "What did you see?"
"Where is James?" Amy shouted.
"Amy calm down, please. Sit down." Amy stood. "He went with Matthew to get your belongings from the club. Your uncle wasn't there. James was told he was at your apartment." She looked down at her phone and pressed her finger against it to unlock it. Amy didn't need to hear the rest.
"He's destroyed it, hasn't he? I need to go."
"Amy, James said you need to stay here. It is not safe--"
"Isn't safe? It's my apartment." Amy grabbed the clothes and stormed along the corridor to her room. "I’m going with or without your help. I'll walk the entire way if I need to."
The traffic was light so it only took Miranda half an hour to drive them to Amy's apartment in Kennington. Amy got out of the car and sped up the six flights of stairs to her door. The door was slightly ajar and she nervously pushed it open. A vintage mirror--a Christmas gift to herself--was shattered in front of her. Further down the hallway, an array of ripped furnishings and smashed ornaments were scattered over the floor. This was her first home, these were her possessions, and they had been completely ruined. She heard a noise from the lounge and as she entered, she saw James and Matthew carefully trying to pick up pieces of furniture. Her stereo system and TV had been smashed. The sofa had been cut and its filling pulled out. Her eyes focused on an empty picture frame on the floor. It was the one that contained the last ever photo that had been taken of her with her parents. It was now torn into tiny pieces scattered beside the frame. It could never be replaced.
She let out a loud sob and James turned. "Amy. What are you doing here?"
He let go of his half of the coffee table, much to Matthew's anguish when he had to balance it himself, and wrapped his arms around her. Amy didn't shy away. She needed the comfort. "You were supposed to stay with my mum." Miranda appeared at the door now.
"Amy." He cupped her cheek, his piercing blue eyes trying to calm her obvious distress. "Let my mum take you back to my place. Matthew and I will sort everything here."
Amy leant further back into his warmth. "Is every room the same?"
"Yes. I am sorry."
"Why did he do this? I don't understand."
"I don't know, Amy. But he will pay for it."
"You have called the police?"
"No. The police will do nothing. He had your keys, they will view it just as a domestic." Amy knew what James meant by he will pay, for now, she was too raw with anger to argue.
"I had my mum's jewellery in my bedroom." James let go of Amy's waist, took her hand, and led her to the bedroom. Matthew and Miranda stayed in the lounge and continued cleaning. Amy went straight to her jewellery box, which was thrown on the floor. Relieved to find her mum's wedding and engagement rings there, she placed them on her fingers.
"I need to get the police involved. Without a crime reference, I won't be able to get my insurance to fix and replace everything." She pulled her hand through her hair in desperation and looked back at James. The look of concern had gone from his face. He had the look of determination and control again. The one from that night.
"You won’t need money. I will sort everything."
Amy interrupted, "James, I am not going to let you repair everything at your expense."
"I won’t be repairing anything at my expense."
"My uncle won’t be repairing this either. I want him gone from my life, James. After what he did? I want to forget him."
"I will deal with your uncle my way, but you won’t be returning here."
Amy wanted to defy him, to scream at him and tell him no, but she couldn't. She didn't want to stay here. He was overruling her common sense again, but she had fallen completely under his spell. She looked away at the pile of all her clothes, her intimate undergarments that were strewn all over the floor.
"I agree. On some conditions."
"You have a thing for conditions, Amy. We will need to work on that."
Amy turned back to him and took a kiss from his lips that shocked them both.
"I'll pay my way. You won’t keep me."
James raised an eyebrow, "We can negotiate that." Amy laughed. "The other conditions?"
"Just one."
"I am all ears." He put his arm round her waist again.
"Whatever this is between us, it won't last if we don't get to know each other properly. No lies. No secrets. You messed up last night James. You should have come to me and told me everything, not made a public display of it. This..." -- she waved her hands at the chaos of the room -- "is partly your fault."
"And I will never stop apologizing for it. It is why I want to help you correct it. It is why I am here cleaning it myself."
"I was a little surprised at that. I thought you would hire someone. But, James, if you accept my conditions, I will stay with you and take your help. If not, leave now." Amy brought her finger to her lip and nervously chewed on the tip as she waited for his answer.
James placed both his hands around her waist.
"I agree."
CHAPTER SEVEN
James
It didn't take them long to finish packing what remained of Amy's belongings. A locksmith had arrived and changed the locks while they were there. He went to hand Amy the key to lock up, but she just shook her head and told him to give them to James.
She didn't seem to really have much fight left in her. The past twenty-four hours had been too much for her, and he felt overwhelming guilt for his part in it. James had allowed his controlling nature to overrule his common sense –again-- and Amy had suffered as a result.
He helped her out of his mother's Audi after they had parked and then he carried one of the suitcases into his home. Amy carried the lighter of the two; not that either was heavy.
Amy went straight to her room. James thought she needed a moment alone and went to make them some drinks. When he returned, Amy was hanging up her final dress. She looked up at him, pleading. "I want you to tell me everything."
He took both of her hands and pulled her close. She kissed him gently on the lips. She tasted so good. Why couldn't he just take her away somewhere and make her forget everything that was happening, instead? He really didn't want to see her crying.
"I trust that you did it for the right reasons, James. I am still so confused by my uncle. He is not the man I grew up believing him to be. I need to know everything to get it all straight in my head."
James took her hand and in silence lead her to his study on the top floor of the house. Most of the Georgian house was in keeping with the period, but it had modern twists. This room was no exception. He had a massive, curved oak desk in the middle of it. To the right on the wall, he had three large screens which could be hidden under pictures that descended from the ceiling.
James showed Amy into the room and sat her on velvety chaise longue. He went to a safe, which was a
gain hidden behind a picture, and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Amy.
"This is everything I found out about you."
He felt ashamed by the file as she took it from him. That folder contained so much personal information about her. If she put the folder down and walked out on him now, he wouldn't blame her; it made him look like a stalker. However, she just flicked through all that information and stopped at the details he had on her uncle's business.
James knew that her uncle used the premises as a front for drugs and prostitution. He imported girls from Eastern Europe with the promise of a brighter future only to have them carry out sex acts in a property he owned nearby. Amy wiped a tear from her eye.
"I thought Sara got some of her extra money from… selling her body. I didn't know he had another property that did all that. Those poor girls."
"Matthew and I will be working to shut that part of the business down."
"Let me know when you have."
Amy turned over another page and looked up at James in shock.,
"Sara?"
He nodded. "Sara isn't her real name. She is Gabriella Martinez. She's from Latin America. Amy, did you know she was your uncle's lover?"
"James, she can't have been. We used to complain about him together. I never thought she liked him but that she tolerated him because I was his niece and she earned good money.”
"The video I showed you was from a week ago, when you were in Lanzarote. It is security footage from the club. Matthew had someone hack into the systems. She was pregnant with your uncle’s child. He didn't want it, though. Amy, the only reason your uncle paid for your holiday was so that he could get you out of the way while he got rid of the baby." He handed her back the papers but turned to a page which had photos of Sara's body after Amy's uncle had enacted his cruel termination on her. Amy's hand flew to her face and she paled.
“Yesterday, Matthew found Sara in her apartment. She had taken an overdose of painkillers. She didn't survive." Amy let out a loud cry that almost tore James' heart apart. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to punish her uncle for the pain he was inflicting on Amy.
For now, though, he needed to concentrate on the girl he cradled in comfort. She sat up, and he wiped away the tears from her eyes. "That is why I came for you straight away. I wasn't thinking straight when I heard about her death. I had to get you away and protect you."
"She has no family?"
"Matthew found her family. We are arranging to get her home to Brazil. Amy, Sara was duped by your uncle. There were letters and a diary in her flat which showed that she thought he would marry her. She was a good girl and took her life as a last resort because she felt so much shame."
"Thank you for returning her home." Her voice broke. "How can he have done that to her? To make someone think that death is preferable to life? I should have been here to help her."
"Your uncle is a sick man. He is perverted and dangerous, and there is nothing that you could've done. Please let me protect you from him?"
She pushed him away and stood up.
"You must be crazy getting involved with me. I should go. It isn't fair to you."
He frowned but didn't move.
"You are going nowhere. As you said earlier, we have a connection and we owe it to ourselves to explore it. Come here."
She instantly obeyed him.
"You are safe, and we can learn about each other now. Trust me. If I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. Sara made a mistake and paid with her life."
He didn't finish what he was saying as she crushed a passionate kiss to his lips. He reciprocated at first and then pushed her away.
"James, I need to feel something other than the pain. I need to be back in Lanzarote."
James froze. He wanted nothing more than to tear her clothes from her and bury his aching cock deep within her. But she was vulnerable at the moment.
"Lay back." His tone was stern, and she immediately did as instructed. He pulled the trousers she was wearing down her legs and then ripped her thin panties from her body. "Open your legs."
She did so, revealing her already-glistening pussy to him. He leaned forward to trail his tongue over the length of her folds, parting them, and savouring her juices. He was throbbing with his own need. He flicked his tongue over and over her clit, and every time she groaned in pleasure. Slowly he inserted a finger inside her, then two; and she thrust herself against his hand. His finger hooked, he teased her g-spot. She was close. He stopped, and she moaned.
"Not until I say, Amy, remember? That is my rule."
She cried out. "And you complain about me with rules and stipulations."
With his free hand, he gave her two quick sharp smacks to her peachy rear.
"Answering back gets you into trouble."
"James please."
"James, please what?"
Breathlessly, she clutched at her perfectly formed breasts and gyrated against his hand. "Please, let me come."
He chuckled. "Come."
James flicked the nub with his tongue and she exploded. She gushed over his tongue and gripped his fingers in pulsating waves of ecstasy. He longed to bury himself inside her, but as she came, her tears flowed. She sobbed. He moved to cradle her, and held her close.
CHAPTER THREE
Amy
A month had passed since Amy had moved into James' home. She was enjoying learning more about him and had made wonderful friends in both Matthew and Miranda. Two days after her laptop had been smashed, James presented her with a brand new MacBook Pro with a variety of writing software installed and all her work she thought lost neatly stored in what he called a 'cloud'. He had given her a new iPhone as well, and she was told that it was linked to his account so she could download anything that she wanted on it. Her contacts were all on it, minus her uncle. Amy didn’t complain, she made a mental note to pay him back one day but enjoyed the modern technology, even if it baffled her a little bit. He had also had pictures of her with her parents recovered from her laptop and printed out and put in frames in her room. She had bawled like a little girl when she had seen them. They had also spent a lot of time together just having what James termed dates.
Today was one of those dates, and he was taking her shopping. Matthew pulled the car into Sloane Street and all Amy could see was top designer brands.
"James, I can't afford to shop here. In case you forgot I don’t have a job."
"I can buy you a present."
"No. Please, can we go somewhere cheaper? I don't want you having to buy me expensive clothes. You seem to think that it is just one outfit that I need. Most of my clothes were destroyed, I pretty much need everything."
"Then I will buy it for you."
Amy groaned and placed her head in her hands.
"You are not listening to me. I am not going to let you buy me everything."
"I have the money, I can spend it however I want, and I want to spend it in these shops." He had that defiant look on his face that told Amy he wasn't going to listen.
"Fine." Amy leant forward and spoke to Matthew. "Matthew, James is getting out here to spend his money. Can you take me to Oxford Street please so I can spend mine?"
"What. No that isn't what I meant" James spluttered next to her. "Matthew you stay here."
"If Matthew stays here, then I am not getting out of the car. You can, but I won’t move a single muscle from this seat."
"Er, boss? Sorry, but I need a decision as to what I am doing. A traffic officer is heading this way."
Amy folded her arms over her chest and sat back in her seat.
"Fine. Take us to Oxford Street. But I will be buying your entire wardrobe."
"You will buy me one outfit, and you won’t argue. I am adamant, and you won’t change my mind. I am not here for your money. I am here for you."
"I think we need to have a long discussion about defiance, and soon." James shrunk over to his side of the car, and Amy was confident that he was sulking. He had the whole stuck out b
ottom lip thing. She was secretly cheered by her little victory even though she knew it would mean punishment later. James was very skilled with his fingers and tongue, and if she denied him something, he denied her. He always relented in the end, normally when she begged. He had kept to his word and not pressured her into anything more even though she could see he was very evidently hard every time he touched her.
The rest of the date passed with very little event.
But when she returned home she found a Mulberry Bayswater handbag waiting for her. She didn't protest, even after she had Googled the cost. She liked it and thought he had made an excellent choice. He had promised her a Chanel one next and she told him that there was no way he was to buy her one. She would take it straight back to the store.
"Have you decided what you are doing with your flat?" James asked as he poured her a glass of Prosecco.
"Well as you won't let me pay you back for all the repairs I thought that I would rent it out."
"Not sell it?"
"I don't have a mortgage on it, so renting it out will give me some money of my own ‘til I find another job."
"You don't need a job."
"Don't start, James. I am finding a job."
"Why? I am a billionaire. And when we open the hotel in Bangalore I will make more money than I know what to do with. Let me spoil you?"
Amy wasn't going to get anywhere with James in this mood. He wanted to treat her like a princess and protect her, but she could never live her life that way. It was how she had been treated by her parents and her uncle and where had that got her? No, she needed to stand on her own two feet.
"Tell me how you made your business so successful. Where did you grow up?"
"Changing the subject won't help you win the argument, you know." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "But I will indulge you this once. My parents came from Kent. They had some money so I went to grammar school and passed all my GCSE's and A-levels with top grades but I didn't go to university despite being offered a place at Cambridge."