Beautiful Creatures

by Lulu Taylor

  She knew, instinctively, that she must not be defiant. Whatever happened, he must believe that she was beginning to accept the situation, even to enjoy her new life. He must start to trust her, and she had to do all she could to make that happen.

  As their first week together came to an end, Otto finally allowed her to speak to Octavia. It was obvious he could no longer keep the sisters apart without arousing suspicion. But, he explained in a harsh voice, there were limits to what Flora was allowed to say – and he handed her a printed sheet with sentences on it that she should use as a prompt:

  It’s amazing here! I’m so happy!

  I’m in love – Otto and I only want to be together at the moment. I’m sure you understand.

  The castle is beautiful. Soon you must visit it, but we are building right now, it’s not the right time.

  Please don’t worry if I don’t call you. Life here is so wonderful, I forget the outside world.

  The ridiculous sentences went on and on. Would anyone believe them? Surely, Octavia would hear their forced quality and become suspicious.

  ‘H-h-hello? Octavia?’ she’d said, when the phone was answered.

  ‘Flora! Oh my God! How are you? What are you doing? Why haven’t you called? Tell me all about it! It’s almost New Year’s Eve, are you going to a party?’

  Flora had felt Otto’s steely eyes boring into her. ‘It’s wonderful here. I’m s-s-so happy.’

  There’d been a tiny pause then. She could picture her sister frowning. ‘So … it’s good then?’

  ‘Y-y-yes,’ Flora said, trying to inject a note of desperation in to her voice without Otto noticing. ‘The c-castle is so beautiful. I f-f-forget everything when I’m here.’

  ‘That must be why you haven’t called. I’ve missed you, Flo-flo,’ Octavia said tenderly. ‘We’ve never been apart for so long.’

  Flora felt tears in her eyes. She wanted to cry out to her sister, beg her to come and get her, tell her that she’d been right to be worried – but she dared not. ‘I know. I miss you too. I w-w-w-want to see you again,’ she said simply. Then she sensed a movement. Otto was staring at her malevolently, his lip curled and fist clenched. She glanced quickly at her piece of paper. ‘O-O-Otto and I only want to be together at the moment. I’m sure you understand.’

  There was another silence down the phone. ‘Well … all right. I was going to come and visit. I’m dying to see you and this famous castle of yours.’

  Otto clenched his other fist.

  ‘Soon, very soon,’ said Flora quickly.

  ‘Okay. Well, when are you coming back? I want to see you!’

  ‘S-s-s-soon. I have to go now. I love you, Tavy.’

  ‘I love you too, you silly thing.’ Octavia sounded surprised at the sudden declaration.

  ‘Goodbye.’ Flora put down the phone, unable to bear talking to her sister a moment longer. She bit back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

  ‘Well done,’ Otto said softly. ‘You sailed close to the wind there. But you did well.’

  On Sunday it was New Year’s Eve. Otto did not go hunting and they spent their first day together. Flora wondered if he’d been hunting so often in order to avoid her as he seemed tense during the morning, but he relaxed when he realised that she wasn’t going to scream or shout or throw a tantrum. He became positively warm towards the afternoon, after they’d all shared a large meal cooked by Frau Gestenholtz and Otto had swigged down several large glasses of red wine.

  Later, in the great hall, he had taken his seat in one of the large wooden armchairs padded with tapestry cushions and said to her, ‘Soon work will begin on this place. It will be vastly expensive, I can’t deny it, but you must be able to see how badly it needs renovation and you’ll be as delighted as I am when it is finally restored to its original glory.’ He looked around, smiling to himself. ‘We shall enjoy ourselves then, my dear, touring the showrooms and auction houses of the world, finding treasures to house here. Great paintings, magnificent furniture, antique rugs … it will be quite splendid, I promise you. But that will be after the renovation, and my builders tell me it will take quite some time.’

  ‘And … I will pay for it?’ Flora asked quietly, not wanted to antagonise him but unable to resist asking the question.

  Otto’s eyes turned icy. ‘I will pay for it. It’s true that the money was once yours, but when we married you signed everything over to me.’

  ‘I did?’ she asked, amazed.

  He nodded. ‘Oh, yes. In our pre-nuptial agreement. You know what they say about reading the small print, my dear. You will find that it was not quite what you thought. I apologise for that. But, you see, it’s important I should have full control. A husband cannot come begging his wife for money, you understand.’

  Flora had been unable to reply, her hands shaking. She concentrated on keeping outwardly calm, breathing deeply and nodding as though Otto’s actions were perfectly reasonable, not fraudulently criminal.

  ‘Yes,’ she’d said, her heart breaking as she realised the magnitude of the trap she had fallen into. ‘I understand.’

  55

  Steve pulled the car to a stop and Octavia looked out. It was hard to believe that this whole glorious place was hers. But it was. All right, strictly speaking, the grand old building belonged to BC Investments, in which Octavia was merely an investor. But BC Investments was owned by OctCo Holdings, and she was the owner of that. And she might only own 13 percent of the store, via Butterfly Ltd, but that was enough to make her the de facto owner, the person whose word was law.

  Steve opened the door for her and she stepped out, one high heel and slender ankle followed by the rest of her elegant figure. She’d chosen a businesslike look for her debut as a shop owner: a scarlet silk dress with strong, well-padded shoulders, a wide black leather belt and her black Rupert Sanderson heels.

  Robert Young was standing on the pavement waiting to welcome her, a large man with a big paunch concealed under his Ede & Ravenscroft shirt. He looked nervous and sweaty. The old board had gone, all dismissed with massive payouts, and the only remnant of it was Young. The new board was the Butterfly one, carefully composed by Ethan and Octavia, and the members were all already inside. First the Noble’s staff were lined up ready to meet their new boss. Robert Young conducted Octavia along the line of employees, introducing them and explaining which department they worked in.

  There was a distinctly hostile air as she shook hands, smiled and tried to be as charming as she could. No one was anything but polite but very few of them returned her smiles.

  They resent us, just as Ethan warned. She wanted to say something respectful to them, to pass on her condolences on the death of their previous chairman, but she had no idea how to start.

  When the introductions were over, Young took Octavia on a tour of her new domain, leading her over all five floors of the treasure trove before finally taking her into the sixth-floor boardroom. There the other board members were waiting, sipping glasses of vintage Krug that he had laid on to celebrate the dawn of a new era.

  ‘Octavia darling!’ It was Iseult, dashing forward to hug her, a smile on her scarlet lips. ‘Isn’t this fun? Aren’t we going to have an absolute ball?’

  ‘Yes … yes, we are.’ Octavia hugged her back. She was relieved to be among friends again, away from the accusatory stares of the staff downstairs.

  Ethan conducted the rest of the introductions: she met the new finance director, the new operations manager, and a handful of non-executive directors.

  ‘We’re all new kids here,’ Octavia said happily, shaking hands and smiling.

  ‘And this is Shalagi Golanmi,’ Ethan said, bringing forward an exquisitely turned out, slender dark-haired beauty.

  ‘Just call me Shagi, everyone does!’ she chirruped brightly. Her coffee-coloured skin was flawless and her deep brown eyes perfectly made up.

  ‘Shagi?’ Octavia smiled at her and shook her hand. ‘Okay then.’

  ‘I love this sh
op! It’s just super-classy!’ She gave Octavia a dazzling smile.

  ‘Shagi is a very highly qualified businesswoman,’ Ethan said, ‘who’ll make an excellent addition to our board. She runs her own mining and excavation business, don’t you, Shagi?’

  ‘Oh, yes! I love business. Adore it. I can’t wait to be a part of your venture!’

  ‘Are we all ready?’ asked Ethan, putting down his champagne glass. ‘Time for a little business, I think.’

  They had a long meeting around the boardroom table, and there were various presentations on the screen on the far wall, but it was all quite meaningless to Octavia. She sat back and tried to pay attention, but there were so many other things on her mind. There had still been no call from Flora. Her deadline had passed and tonight she would see about taking a flight to Germany to visit her. Enough was enough. This terrible state of affairs could not go on. Octavia simply wouldn’t allow it.

  She realised that Robert Young had come to the end of a speech and was looking at her expectantly. He’s a nasty piece of work, she told herself, the thought surprising her as it drifted into her mind. ‘That’s fantastic, Robert, thanks,’ she said, and he looked pleased.

  It doesn’t matter if I don’t listen to every last financial detail, she told herself. Ethan will tell me later.

  She itched to get hold of her phone so that she could send a message to Vicky telling her to start arranging the Germany trip. But it was too rude to do it now. She’d have to wait until later.

  56

  Somehow, Flora managed to endure her first few months of life in the schloss. The only consolation was the beauty of the surrounding countryside, and the kindness of Frau Gestenholtz.

  Flora had seen barely another living soul since she’d come to the castle, apart from Otto and his mother. Once the building work started, she also saw brawny young builders about the place but she knew no German and the shouted comments she overheard meant nothing to her. Besides, what help could they offer? Who would believe her if she ever tried to reveal what was happening to her?

  Flora knew that Otto was trying to break her spirit. She knew that he was trying to tame her. He must think I will be easy to bring into line, she thought to herself. He must have known all about me from the start, how I’d lived. That made him think I’d be a simple conquest. But he’s wrong.

  She almost wanted to laugh when she thought of it. Otto hadn’t realised that she had long experience of captivity, of existing under watchful eyes. She had survived before and she could do it again. Hours of empty solitude were familiar to her, and she had learnt how to endure them. It would take much more than this before she was the cowering, broken creature he hoped for. And all the time she was waiting and watching for her chance, making him believe that she was the docile, obedient wife he wanted.

  Of course at Homerton there had been Octavia to share it with, and now Flora was alone. That was the greatest hardship. And she also had to face the nightly activity she hated so much. That was a challenge, but she was learning how to cope with it. When the worst began, she would take herself to the beautiful gardens at Homerton, and walk among the sweet-smelling lavender there. Or she would be riding out across the green fields of Connecticut, feeling the wind in her hair and the rush of freedom in her blood. Lost in those vivid fantasies, she could almost forget what was really happening to her.

  She had little talismans that gave her strength: the pearl earrings that were identical to the ones Octavia wore; a locket with a twist of her sister’s golden hair entwined with her own. Flora looked at these things often to remind herself of the unbreakable bond between them, and to give her faith in the future. And she talked to Octavia constantly, in her mind and even aloud if she was sure that she was alone.

  But best of all were the moments when Otto led her to the study and allowed her to speak to her sister or to Vicky. Flora lived for the phone calls as she was not allowed to see any of the emails that arrived or were sent in her name. It was hard to listen to the others asking when they would see her, or speaking of trips that had been arranged and then cancelled, but she always stuck to the script Otto gave her, even if she stumbled over the words. What broke her heart was that she could hear growing resentment and coldness in her sister’s voice, and was unable to tell her the truth.

  Don’t hate me, Tavy, she would beg silently. You think I’ve deserted you, but I haven’t! I haven’t. Please … please understand.

  The pain when the calls were over was the worst thing of all.

  Otto must have heard something in Octavia’s voice that made him think she would soon run out of patience because he seemed to become more aware of the need to allay her suspicion. He allowed a few more calls, and let Flora speak without a script, although he stood close by, ready to terminate the conversation if she said anything forbidden. They spent one afternoon posing for happy photographs, some taken by his mother and some by Otto himself. They showed the best aspects of the castle, where the dilapidation was least in evidence, and Flora was beaming in each one. In some, Otto and she had their arms around one another, laughing in the morning sunshine. In others Flora was the picture of happiness, lying on a rug on the lawn or sitting on an old stone wall, the forest behind her.

  These Otto emailed back to London, to Vicky and Octavia, with a cheerful message supposedly from Flora.

  There were other photographs too – not intended to be sent anywhere. ‘Smile, my love,’ he said as he photographed Flora with his penis in her mouth, or naked and with legs apart, a long fat red dildo pushed up inside her.

  Every night since they had arrived at the castle, Otto had enjoyed forcing his penis in to her mouth, and she had learnt that he would come very quickly. He was rarely in her for more than a minute or two; soon his little prick would throb against her lips and then she’d receive a jet of hot spunk in the back of her throat, though sometimes he liked to pull it out and spray it over her face. He got pleasure from seeing his semen on her, and asked her to let it dribble from her mouth and down her chin. This would make him shiver with enjoyment. Once he even became hard again, pushing his penis back in her mouth as though enjoying the sensation of his own cum all over his shaft.

  He didn’t seem very interested in the rest of her until one night when he ordered her to strip for him. After she had sucked him for about thirty seconds, he pushed her backwards on to the bed, spread her legs wide and pressed the head of his cock to the mouth of her vagina. But the moment the tip was inside her, he pulled it out, swearing, as he ejaculated all over her.

  ‘Ach, you stupid bitch,’ he said furiously. ‘Why do you make me come so soon?’

  She didn’t know what to say, but simply looked at him submissively, not wanting to inflame his anger. He seemed to think that this was her fault, so perhaps it was – though she couldn’t see what on earth she could do about it. He came fast but was soon up again, although he faced the same problem each time he tried to enter her. Now and again he managed several thrusts before it was over, and always withdrew his cock and came all over her belly.

  ‘We don’t want any babies yet,’ he jeered at her one night.

  ‘Why don’t you wear a condom then?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘It might help you last longer as well.’

  ‘What?’ he’d demanded, eyes furious. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘S-s-sorry, Otto,’ she stuttered, realising she had made a mistake. As far as he was concerned, he was quite normal, and if he wasn’t, it was Flora’s fault. Then one night he brought out the red dildo. With this, he explained, he was going to fuck her. And Flora knew at once that he was going to use the toy to do the work he couldn’t do. He coated it with lubricant, lay next to her and shoved it in and out of her, breathing heavily as he did so, his rock-hard penis pressed against her thigh. It certainly helped him last longer, and gave him the pleasure of seeing his semen jet out when he did come. But it was horrible for Flora: he used the dildo so roughly, until she was raw and tender. He didn’t seem to ca
re about how she felt. She endured it because she had to.

  One morning, Otto’s mother, looking at her with the usual light of pity in her eyes, put a packet on the table in front of Flora at breakfast. ‘Take one of these every day, starting with the first day of your period. Then follow the instructions.’

  Flora took the packet, guessing these were contraceptive pills. She was sure that a doctor ought to see her and prescribe the right pill, check her blood pressure and so on, but she was grateful to have them in a way. The idea of becoming pregnant by Otto was so repugnant that she could barely stand it, though she assumed that one day soon this would happen – unless someone found a way to get her out of this place.

  Surely they’ll come for me. How long can he go on holding them at arm’s length? How long will Octavia leave me to suffer like this? Burning tears leaked out of Flora’s eyes in the darkness when she couldn’t sleep. She’ll come. She has to.

  57

  Vicky was in a state of high excitement. ‘It’s Flora on the phone!’ she hissed, giving the handset to Octavia who was already packing a case for her flight to Germany.

  Octavia took it. ‘Flora?’

  ‘Y-y-yes.’ Her sister’s voice came soft and slightly breathless down the phone. ‘Are you coming over, Tavy?’

  ‘Yes, I bloody am. I’ve had enough of this cloak-and-dagger stuff. What are you thinking of, sacking Vicky like that?’

  ‘I should have talked to you first …’

  ‘Of course you bloody should have!’ Octavia said, indignant. ‘We’re not sacking her, all right? She does a fabulous job! Brilliant. You must be crazy. Listen, I’m booked on a flight tonight.’

  ‘N-no, you can’t come …’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘W-w-we’re just going away actually. For a short holiday. With friends of Otto’s. We’re leaving today. But he says he’s planning a trip to London very soon, in a couple of weeks, and we’ll come over together then.’