Disgraced

by Natasha Knight

  He gripped the lip of the desk, still facing me. “Did you talk to my father that way?”

  “There was nothing between us. And even if there was, why do you care?”

  “How is dad?” His question came abruptly. Unexpectedly.

  “What?” My mouth was a desert.

  “How is he? I admit, I haven’t been to see him. What did dear old dad want? You know, when you visited him the other day.”

  My heart raced. He knew. Shit. He knew. I glanced at Maxx, who stood still, studying the far wall, blocking the exit. Not that I could get away, not if Alexi didn’t want me to.

  “I was close to him,” I said after clearing my throat. “Like you said. I wanted to visit him. See how he was holding up.”

  One side of Alexi’s lips curved upward. “You don’t think me stupid, do you?”

  “Alexi…” I felt out of control, powerless. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. “Of course not.”

  Alexi lifted the receiver off his desk and told whoever was on the line “there’s one more.” A moment later, the door behind his desk opened, and an older, ragged woman appeared. She stood there and gave me a once-over, her mouth a thin line. She looked either bored or annoyed.

  “Stand up, Kat.”

  Maxx took a step forward.

  “Alexi—” I started.

  “Up. Party will begin soon. I need you in makeup. You won’t bring me much, looking like that, will you? Now get up.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, clutching my bag tightly when Maxx crossed the room. His hands fell to either of my arms, lifting me to my feet. “I didn’t agree to this.”

  “What you agreed or didn’t agree to doesn’t matter anymore. You forfeited any rights when you decided to go against me.”

  “But, Alexi!” Maxx began to walk me to the door, to where the woman stood aside, unfazed. “Please!”

  Alexi opened a drawer and withdrew something familiar: the folder I’d hidden between the mattress and box spring of my bed. But when he opened it and set the photos out, I noticed there were only four of them. The one of Maxx was missing.

  “Get her out of my sight.”

  Alexi resumed his seat behind his desk. Maxx led me through the door and down the hallway to another room. There, he held me tight as the woman cut through my clothes with a pair of scissors and stripped everything from me, even snipping my bra and panties before laying me on a cold metal table and binding my wrists and ankles to it, even strapping a leather restraint across my forehead so I couldn’t move my head.

  “Is she a screamer? You know I hate the noise,” the woman said to Maxx.

  “She won’t be a screamer,” Maxx said, meeting my gaze. “Will you?”

  I took one look at his huge arms and hands, not wanting to know the damage they could do. I muttered a ‘no’ as the woman began to prepare me for what I knew would be the auction. I berated myself for my stupidity, for my naivety. For letting myself be put in this position. I’d be beaten tonight. And raped. Or worse. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I’d given up my freedom the moment I’d gone to Sergei for help.

  16

  Damon

  Father Leonard hadn’t exactly accused me of anything, but he’d seen Lina and me together. He’d seen how we’d looked at each other. He wasn’t a stupid man. He’d only mentioned in passing that if I wanted to talk, his door was always open. I wondered if he knew why I was here. The real reason why I’d been sent away from seminary.

  I checked my phone on my way up the stairs to my apartment, still holding onto hope that she would call, but there were no messages. I slid the phone into my pocket and dug out my keys to the apartment, but when I got to it, I found the door slightly ajar. A dim light came from inside. Cautious, I pushed it open and stopped. There, on the couch at the far end of the room, sat Alexi Markov. He had one leg crossed over the other and was flipping through a magazine. He closed it when he saw me and gave me what I imagined was supposed to be a smile.

  I stepped into the room, and as soon as I did, the door closed behind me. I turned to find a second man, a much larger man, standing in front of it as if he expected me to turn and run. I had no intention of running.

  “Where’s Lina?” She was my first conscious thought. He must have been keeping tabs on Lina. Followed her here maybe. How could I not have suspected he would?

  Alexi cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows slightly, then turned his attention to picking a cuticle, which he tossed onto the floor.

  “So this is the man.” He ignored my question. “The one who’s got my girl running off to fucking Florida at the drop of a hat.” His gaze ran over me. “A priest, no less.”

  I stepped toward him, but the man behind me closed his hand over my shoulder, halting me.

  “I hope you don’t mind us dropping by like this,” Alexi continued.

  “Where’s Lina?”

  Alexi uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, glancing around. “Who?”

  “You know who. Where is she?” Fuck. If he’d hurt her, I’d never forgive myself. How could I have left her alone in that apartment, knowing he came and went as he pleased? Suspecting this was all out of her control. I should never have left this up to her. I should have dragged her kicking and screaming back to Tuscany.

  He grinned and leaned over to lift a magazine off the coffee table. “Is she under here, perhaps? She’s little, isn’t she?” he added, peeking under a paperweight next.

  “If you’ve hurt her—”

  “Me? Hurt Lina? No. Kat, as I know her, is fine. Splendid, in fact. I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her pretty little head.”

  For some reason, I believed him. He was here to scare me. This was a show of power. “Get your goon off me.”

  Alexi waved him away.

  “What do you want, Markov?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I was just curious about Kat’s special friend. She hasn’t had one before that I know of. I care for her, you know. I just want to be sure she’s safe and with the right guy. She can be impulsive, can’t she?”

  “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

  “I’m confused. Now, I’m not a religious man myself, but a man such as yourself, a man of the cloth, is that how you say it? I thought you were celibate?”

  My hands fisted.

  “You’re not breaking your vows, are you, Father?”

  “What. Do. You. Want?”

  “Well, I suppose that’s your business.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I wanted to invite you to a party. But if you’d rather I go—”

  He stood to leave, tucking the envelope back into his pocket.

  “It’s Kat’s debut. I thought you’d want to be there. If you can make it, I mean. But if you’re allowed to fuck, then I guess a party would be all right.”

  He crossed the room, but when he was near enough, I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked down at my hand, and I felt the bear of a man breathing close by.

  I slid my hand off, never dropping eye contact, not even to blink.

  “Tonight’s party. Big show is a little after one in the morning. Trust me, you won’t want to miss this.” He took the envelope back out and tossed it onto the table, where I noticed a black box. He walked on, and I looked down at the embossed, thick, silver envelope. I didn’t even turn around to make sure they’d left. Instead, as soon as I heard the door shut, I reached down to pick it up and took the invitation out. Inside, the heavy, black card had a date, time, and place: tonight, very soon in fact.

  I set the invitation down and opened the box to find a black mask with a long nose, like a plague doctor’s mask of old days, but eerier. What the fuck?

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Lina’s cell. I knew she wouldn’t pick up. She probably couldn’t. Alexi had her.

  I picked up the box containing the mask and rushed down the stairs and out the door to hail a taxi. G
iving him Club Carmen’s address, I pulled my phone out and dialed Raphael. Lina had run out of time. I only hoped I wasn’t already too late.

  The drive shouldn’t have taken more than thirty minutes in heavy traffic, but tonight seemed to take longer than usual. We crawled along to the sound of horns honking and lights flashing in the distance up ahead.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Looks like an accident.”

  “Can’t you take another route.”

  “How? Should I fly over the top of the rest of these assholes?”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Newsflash buddy, none of us do.”

  “Fuck!” I threw some bills into the front seat and climbed out onto the street. Cars honked their horns, but they weren’t going anywhere, so they could fuck off. I wove through the lanes to the sidewalk and ran as fast as I could toward the club. By the time I arrived, it was already midnight. The club itself was in full swing, but I saw the red carpet rolled out at the alley entrance with two men in black suits and white masks standing sentry. Catching my breath, I dug my invitation out of my pocket and stalked toward them. One took the invite, looked it over, and handed it back. The other one opened the door. I stepped into a small room with black velvet draping every wall and even the ceiling. Tall cathedral candles dripped, and Gregorian chants whispered in the background. If dark and eerie was what Alexi was going for, he succeeded.

  There were two other men inside, both donning long black capes and adjusting white masks over their faces. Two women wearing see-through silver dresses with every inch of visible skin painted silver stood to greet me at the door. They didn’t speak, only took my invitation, looked it over, and led me to the coat check. I guessed this was where you got changed unless you were traipsing around Manhattan wearing a cape and a mask. Which, even here, would stand out.

  I took off my coat and handed it to the girl. Silver flecks dropped as she moved, giving me the slightest, sliest smile and pushing what I assumed was a black cape along with the claim ticket for my coat across the counter. I tucked the ticket into my pocket. The girl who’d walked me over gave me a similar smile and picked up the cloak. I guessed I was supposed to get into costume here. I slipped it over my shoulders, and the girl adjusted the clasp. I wondered if this was what Lina had done the night she’d come home painted gold. If she’d been half naked like this.

  The girl took the box out of my hands, opened it, and held it out to me. I placed the mask over my face, and we walked toward the elevator. Two girls dressed like the one beside me exited the elevator, and my escort and I entered it. She pushed the button to the Penthouse, and we rode up in silence, each of us staring into our reflection on the mirrored doors. Her, beautiful, petite, delicate, me looking like the plague. Like Black Death coming to claim its victim.

  The doors opened to the same chanting as downstairs, only here, it seemed to be louder, more ominous. Black draped the walls here too, but this room was larger, about as big as all of Club Carmen. Church candles dripped down long candelabras onto the black-and-white-veined marble floors. Every man here was dressed as I was, black capes and masks, some simple, some ornate. All terrifying. There were women too. Their capes were a deep purple, and they donned stiff, full-face masks. The ratio of men to women was about five to one, and there had to be well over a hundred people in the place.

  The girl beside me gestured for me to step out. I did. She gave me that smile again, and when the elevator doors closed, she disappeared behind them. If anyone turned at my entrance, I didn’t know. They seemed to be absorbed in conversation, everyone with a flute of champagne in their hand. The women were dressed in less than those who’d greeted me downstairs. They wore only high-heeled shoes, and silver chains hung from their hips and were clipped to rings on their nether lips. They flitted through the crowd with trays full of fresh glasses of champagne.

  My hands fisted at the thought of Lina here among them, on display like this.

  But I looked at each of the girls and didn’t see her. I wasn’t sure if I felt relief or more anxious. Alexi had said it was her debut. What in hell did that mean?

  Taking a glass of champagne I had no intention of drinking, I began to weave my way through the crowd looking for her, knowing I wouldn’t see her, not yet. Not until he wanted me to. I checked for exits other than the elevator, but any doors were hidden behind the drapes. Alcoves led off the main room with sitting areas arranged, where small groups collected, laughing, talking. It was similar to the club below, but what was happening in those places was different. As time passed, the laughter grew louder, and it seemed guests broke into circles, some as small as three, others as large as ten. A throng collected around one particular recess, and when I went to it, I realized why. I don’t know why it took me so long to see what tonight was. What it would become.

  I turned my back to the moaning, groaning threesome and took a step toward where men in suits were setting up chairs across from a staging area where a platform had been erected. I checked my watch. A little after one in the morning. I stood for a moment, noticing for the first time that although everyone wore a mask, many were similar but there wasn’t a single one like mine in the room. Of course. It made sense. Alexi would want me to be recognizable even with the mask hiding my face.

  Casually, I turned back to where the lovemaking—no, it was fucking—was going strong. The woman was fully naked and on her hands and knees. She had one man in her mouth, the other behind her. The men, although still mostly dressed, had discarded their masks. They had carelessly tossed them aside. Moving quickly, I slipped mine off and replaced it with one of theirs, leaving mine it its place. It was a simple white face, nothing special about it. In fact, I now matched about half the men in the place.

  A gong sounded, and heads turned. Mine too.

  Chairs had been arranged. Two naked women knelt on either side of the gong, which stood on a wooden platform about two feet off the floor. A man wearing only some sort of loincloth and headdress stood before the women and sounded the gong again. People moved to take their places. I followed, choosing a seat along the aisle in the third to last row.

  I had a feeling Lina was about to be debuted. But had she agreed to it or was Alexi forcing her? Was this what her plan was, and when Alexi learned about me, he wanted to make sure I witnessed her fall? Was it to disgrace her? Further humiliate her? Because she would be humiliated tonight, he would see to that. I had no doubt of Alexi’s intentions. Or was it to show her as some sort of whore to me? To force me out? No. It wouldn’t be that. A man like Alexi Markov wouldn’t waste his time on that sort of calculation. He was a thug. He’d use his fists. Or his goon’s fists.

  One more strike of the gong and the room fell into hushed silence. Darkness descended, any overhead illumination dimming so that only candlelight remained at the periphery of the crowd. A few moments later, a spotlight appeared on a door where a man entered dressed similarly to the guests, except he wore a bloodred cape. And his mask, which covered everything but his grinning lips, was the most elaborate of all. Alexi Markov. I’d know it from his walk, from the way he sauntered as if he were God.

  Applause followed his entrance. Alexi gave a sort of bow and held up his hand for silence.

  “Tonight, dear guests, is a special night indeed,” he began.

  I phased him out and peered into the darkness from where he’d come, but it was impossible to see. Refocusing on him, I waited as he continued to speak. I followed his gaze around the room, knowing he was searching for me. For the mask of the black death. We found it at the same time. The man wearing it sat two rows ahead of me.

  After about five more minutes of nothing, a spotlight focused on the space just beyond the stage. Two masked men drew the black curtains apart and held them open. After a few moments, the first woman walked out.

  My throat tightened to watch her and the dozen that followed her. All beautiful. All naked. All with iron bars on their shoulders, the weight of which
made their backs bend. Their arms were spread wide and bound to the bars at the wrists. One by one, as they approached, I gazed at each of the woman, dreading the moment I’d see Lina. Wanting to get it over with. Wanting to know she was safe. Wondering how in hell I was going to get her out of here.

  But she never came.

  As each woman walked onto the stage, Alexi introduced them, turned them around, bent them over, then had them stand on a wooden block to begin the bidding. Although it made me sick, I knew these women were most likely hired prostitutes. Lina was not. And as the final bid was taken and the bidder disappeared behind a curtain where I imagined accounting took place, I grew more anxious, knowing Alexi was saving the best for last.

  17

  Lina

  A Scold’s Bridle caged my head.

  But Alexi wasn’t finished with me yet. In fact, he’d only just begun.

  I stood just on the other side of the curtains that shielded me from the room where I’d served Alexi’s party not so long ago. I wore a long silvery-white evening gown that hung off my shoulders and draped low at the back. My arms were bound behind me with leather restraints at both elbows and wrists, forcing me to stand up straight, making my breasts jut out against the delicate silk, the nipples visible beneath it. The shoes I wore were one size too small. I wondered if that was intentional. My skin still stung from the hot wax I’d endured to tear every hair—apart from that on my head—from my body.

  But none of that mattered.

  It all paled in anticipation of what was to come as the last of the women before me walked up onto the stage and were auctioned off.

  Because I was next.

  And I wore the Scold’s Bridle—a medieval device used to punish gossips, used to humiliate them. Heavy metal imprisoned my head, leaving my eyes to see, my nose to breathe. Inside my mouth, the bridle depressed my tongue, making it impossible to swallow, to speak. To scream. To beg for help from a gathering of people who would only revel in my agony.