A Bedtime Story

by L. C. Moon

  “Better?” he asked half smirking, his tone patient.

  She nodded sheepishly.

  “Good.” Then as if remembering something unpleasant, his mood shifted again. “Go to bed, Laura, it’s been a long day.”

  She staggered out of the kitchen but turned to face him as she was about to round the corner. “Good night…” She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to call him sir at all times, but she sensed he liked it when she called him that.

  “Good night, Laura.” He sounded pleasantly surprised at her initiative.

  She hesitated a little. “Should I always call you… sir?” she asked, avoiding his eyes, a faint blush coloring her face.

  A wicked smile on his face, he quoted back her own words in response. “Whatever… comes naturally I guess…”

  ***

  Kayne lay wide awake in his bed. He had received another call from Dimitri. He was throwing a party the very next day and wanted Kayne to bring the girl. He was curious, wanted to see her for himself. Kayne’s words carried weight in the Organization. No one would contradict him or disobey him openly. Those who had were no more. But even he couldn’t go head-to-head against Dimitri. He had explained his position as clearly and truthfully as he could. He wanted the girl for himself and would get the information out of her himself. He wanted to be given discretion to deal with it as he saw fit. Dimitri had consented, because he could understand his motives. Pretty women who unfortunately got involved in their world were often claimed once they had served their purpose. Just like in the old times, the victors claimed their spoils of war. The women were turned into personal whores, shared as sex slaves, or sold according to the whims of their holder. Laura was his to claim, and he had. But this time, it was different. She still had a purpose to serve. Dimitri was a reasonable man. He allowed Kayne to have his way, provided he got what he wanted in the end. But Kayne knew he was treading a thin line; whores were never put before business. He was apprehensive at how things would unfold. What if Dimitri wanted to have the girl interrogated again? Kayne didn’t know what he would do. He would try to talk to him, buy himself, and the girl, a little more time. It was his only option. He knew Dimitri held a certain fondness for him, having been close to his father, even acting as a second mentor. If it came to it, Kayne would speak on her behalf, ensuring she remained under his care. He felt the same surge of animalistic protectiveness he had felt when he questioned her on whether she’d been abused. She was his, to do with as he pleased. He would not stand by and watch someone else have their way with her.

  He tried to convince himself nothing drastic would follow. He would reason with Dimitri and have his way as always. He was earning the girl’s trust. Soon if he played his hand well, she would tell him, of her own accord. He knew he could make her. Dimitri would have Peter’s head, he would get Laura, and they would all live happily ever after. Well, except for Peter. He laughed sardonically in the dark at the fantasy. He derided himself, maybe he was in love with the girl. After all, for all his stoic appearance, it had taken just one look for Lev Malkin to fall helplessly in love with Elena Galiano. He had seen her at a park, sitting on a bench by a willow tree, wrapped up in a book. He pursued her relentlessly. She had dismissed his advances without a second glance, her nose buried in the book she’d been reading. He’d finally convinced her on a first date by presenting her with a signed first edition of her favorite book, The Little Prince. He proposed to her after their second date. Not with a ring, but by showing her the library he had built for her. What was it with women and books? Kayne wondered, then corrected himself, not all women, just the ones the Malkin men seemed unable to resist.

  Day-8

  Laura was cuddled on the couch in her reading room with The Kite Runner open pointlessly on her lap. She was having trouble getting into it, catching herself reading the same lines over and over again. She had an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake. She kept replaying the scene from the previous night. Kayne had seemed weird, troubled. Closing her eyes, she thought back to his embrace, his reassuring caresses, his gentle voice… how safe they made her feel. She shook her head and forced her eyes open. When Olga tapped at her door, it was around five. She was surprised at the random visit but welcomed the interruption.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Miss Spencer, Master Kayne wanted me to inform you to meet him at seven in the living room… He said to dress formally… and to fix your hair and makeup,” she finished, slightly uncomfortable giving such instructions. With a warm smile, she added, “I can help you if you like.”

  “So, no supper tonight?”

  “I’m not sure what Master Kayne planned for supper. He didn’t ask me to prepare anything.”

  “Okay, thank you, Olga.”

  “Well, please let me know if I can be of assistance,” she offered again before leaving.

  Laura was unsure what to make of this, wondered what he had in store for her. She headed back to her room and decided to take a long bath. She unconsciously began to shave herself, stopping at the realization, wondering why she was even doing it. It was such a meaningless action and yet so full of implication. To shave or not to shave, THAT was the question, to every girl anyway. She shaved her legs and armpits. Those were innocent enough, considering the request for formal wear. When she finished, she lingered, the blade resting below her belly button. The question begged to be asked, did she somehow hope he would see her, there…? Her inner voice responded with an emphatic NO, she had become completely delirious. She immediately got up and stepped out of the bathtub. However, on her way out of the bathroom, she couldn’t help sneaking a quick peek in the mirror. The regrowth was still minor, she was shamefully glad to notice. She opted for a seamless pink bikini and matching cotton push-up bra. She rummaged through the walk-in closet indecisively. Although she didn’t want to look like she tried too hard, she couldn’t look like she hadn’t tried enough. She settled on a pair of skinny black pants, a beige silk camisole, and a matching fitted jacket. She found some black stilettos at the bottom of the closet and threw them on. She was no fashion expert by any means and looked at herself in the mirror, unsure. She thought she looked nice enough and turned her attention to the vanity. She straightened her hair and stuck to earthy tones for eye shadow, opting for a natural look. At six thirty she was ready, half an hour too early. She paced around in her room, constantly looking at the clock, half apprehensive, half excited. Maybe he was taking her out? Why else would he ask her to do all this? But then again, he didn’t even let her out in the gated front yard. She highly doubted he was taking her to a five-star restaurant. She kept speculating, unable to come up with any logical explanation.

  A few minutes before the clock struck seven, Laura took a big breath as she left her room. She realized she was anxious to see his reaction. He had never seen her dressed up… since that first night, she reminded herself, when he took her.

  Kayne was sitting on the couch, dressed in a formal black suit, his hair slicked back, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was staring at an invisible spot on the wall, consumed with thought, and didn’t notice her come in. There was a large box on the table, gift wrapped with a ribbon, the kind that fancy stores used. She stood in the corner and cleared her throat to get his attention. Only his eyes moved toward her. His brows lifted upon seeing her, and he leaned his head slightly back as if he was surprised with what he saw. He then nodded slowly a few times in approval. She blushed but smiled at him, happy with his reaction.

  “Come closer.”

  She took a few hesitant steps and stopped at the corner of the couch, just a few inches within his reach. He pushed the box toward her.

  “It’s for you,” he said, his eyes penetrating, his expression somber. This had nothing to do with when he offered her the book. She had never seen him like this.

  “Thank you…”

  His strange mood disquieted her. She reached for the box uncertainly, opening it nervously, almost expecting a bomb to explode. It contained a gorgeous backle
ss dark purple silk gown. It was her turn to lift her brows. She pulled the dress from the box, the rich material gently flowing down to her feet.

  “Wow… it’s beautiful! I don’t think I’ve ever owned anything this beautiful, like anything, not just clothes…” She smiled warmly at him, realizing she was trying to make him smile too. He nodded again, offering her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Try it on.”

  She didn’t understand why he was acting the way he was, but kept smiling at him nonetheless. She turned to leave the room, holding the dress in her hand, when his voice stopped her.

  “Where are you going?”

  She turned back around, her brows furrowed. “You said to try it on…”

  “I did.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

  “I don’t understand…” she muttered, her eyes scouring the room in discomfort.

  “Of course you do. Take off your clothes, Laura.” His tone was callous; his eyes were fixed on her, a wolfish expression etched on his face.

  She was shocked but remained in place, heart pounding, her breathing growing faster and louder.

  “Sir…?”

  “Sir me all you like, you will still do as I say.”

  Her eyes watered, and she nervously played with the dress in her hands. “Please, sir, please don’t do this…” She berated herself for being so naïve. Of course he would rape her; she just wondered why he hadn’t done it sooner. Why the whole charade? Then she thought back to her hesitation in the tub earlier. Oh how she wanted to slap that stupid girl senseless.

  “Do what, Laura?” He leaned forward, his eyes fixed onto hers.

  She remembered that first night, how he had earned her trust and betrayed it right after, how remorselessly he owned up to it, staring her in the eye unblinking as Maxwell shackled and hurt her. A shiver ran down her spine.

  “Please… don’t rape me…” She barely managed to finish the sentence, her voice thick with emotion.

  He sneered at her, his eyes predatory. “You think I’m going to fuck you? Don’t worry. I won’t fuck you, Laura… Not until you ask…” he added with a seductive smile.

  She felt relief at the reassurance and disbelief replaying his words. Did he just say Until? Until! Did he really think she would ask him to? She was hot with white rage. She opened her mouth and upon a second glance in his direction closed it right back.

  “Laura. Take off your clothes,” he reiterated, losing patience.

  She gulped, lowering her eyes. She looked for a place to set the dress, opting for the La-Z-Boy, trying to delay the inevitable. He took another sip from his drink, lighting a cigarette. She looked around again, hoping for any excuse to delay, and caught his intimidating stare. Dejected, she first removed her shoes, then her jacket, fumbling nervously with the sleeves, then reached to place it next to the dress.

  “Leave it.”

  She flinched at the sound of his voice and let it immediately drop to the floor. She hesitated between removing the top or the pants first, her hands moving from one piece to the other undecidedly. She looked toward him for instruction, unable to think, to make the call herself.

  “Your shirt,” he directed her, his eyes burning into her.

  She was almost thankful to have the burden of decision removed. She slid off her camisole, then lingered for a few moments, playing with the band of her pants, unable to take the next step.

  “Take off your pants, Laura.” He understood. He understood her, her brain process. She would await his explicit instruction before removing each clothing item. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to take any initiative, participating on her own. Her submissiveness, however, had her abiding hastily to his every command, albeit with clumsy jerky moves.

  “Good girl.”

  She instantly blushed at his words, feeling her muscles down there contract in spite of herself. He smiled wickedly at her, all too aware of her conflicting emotions. He put out his cigarette, looking back at her.

  “And now take off your bra.”

  Her eyes darted up to meet his, silently pleading. He only nodded his head to convey his order. Her eyes watered again. She obeyed, then tried to cover herself with her arms. He rolled his eyes.

  “Put your arms down, Laura.”

  She did, slowly, fidgeting with her hands as if not knowing what to do with them. He shamelessly leered at her naked body, minus the panties he let her keep on. She squirmed under his smoldering stare. He enjoyed a few more sips of his whiskey, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, sadistically savoring every moment, her discomfort only adding to his thrill. She was truly a thing of beauty. She was looking up at the ceiling, blinking tears away. “Don’t, Laura, you’ll only ruin your makeup. Why do you want to cry?” he added with slight irritation.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Not from what I see,” he answered, sneering at her, his eyes fixated with the moist spot on her panties.

  She followed his gaze, then instinctively covered the spot with her hands, her eyes wide with terror. A chuckle escaped his lips. He finished his drink and languidly walked up to her, grabbing the dress on his way. He stood in front of her, without touching, just close enough so she could feel his warmth. He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “Yes,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

  “Hmm… You’ll have to get over it. Get dressed. Lucas will be here any moment now.”

  She roughly reached to grab the dress from his hands, but he held it back.

  “Easy now…”

  She recoiled at the implied threat, all bravado leaving her. How he loved toying with her, so easily riled up, as easily calmed down. He let go of the dress and watched her as she slid it over her shoulders.

  “Sit.”

  She immediately obeyed. He grabbed her stilettos and knelt in front of her. And for the first time that night, he offered her a charming, kind smile, though remnants of mischief still lingered in his eyes. He gently took her leg in his hand, his warm skin radiating against hers, and put the shoe on her foot, then proceeded with the other. He was all business again by the time he got up, staring down at her as she sat in the La-Z-Boy.

  “We’re going out tonight. Lucas will drive us. I don’t believe I’ve introduced you… I expect you won’t try anything stupid.”

  “May I ask where we’re going?”

  For barely a flash, she could see apprehension in his eyes, but in an instant it was gone, and they were back to their normal impassiveness.

  “You’ll see.”

  His cellphone rang. Lucas was outside waiting for them. Kayne offered his arm to Laura, which she accepted reluctantly. As they were about to leave the house, he leaned in her ear and whispered, “You looked beautiful.”

  She turned bright red at the insinuation… looked… not look… She understood him. He chuckled quietly to himself as he walked them to meet Lucas. He had mentioned him on the first day. He was the head of security if she remembered correctly.

  Lucas Belfort was a handsome, mild-mannered man of biracial background. He was tall with a strong build, his green eyes standing out against his dark skin, his hair shaven in a military cut. He carried himself with dignity, his laughing eyes sparkling with intelligence. His deceivingly boyish good looks were reinforced with his deadliest weapon, his smile. It was a smile designed to instill trust and penetrate all the defensive walls erected by its recipient.

  Kayne had met Lucas in elementary school. He had first noticed him in his ragged clothes, standing up to the school bully, twice his size, and accompanied by his two faithful trolls. Lucas had stared him straight in the eyes, unflinching, and threw the first punch. He got beaten to a pulp. A week later, his face still bruised, Kayne had seen the shame in Lucas’s eyes as he faced the cafeteria lady, counting the spare change in the palm of his hand. He seemed more defeated standing in front of her than he had been lying on the ground, getting kicked around. Without a word, Kayn
e crept to his side and under the counter covertly slipped him the twenty-dollar bill his father had given him that very morning.

  An alliance was formed then, one that strengthened over the years, deepened over shared experiences, and solidified over crimes perpetrated together. Lucas had spent his days at the Malkin residence since adolescence. His mother never asked questions. His father, he’d never met. When he was sixteen, he moved in permanently in the employees’ quarters in the western wing. When he turned eighteen, Lev Malkin paid for his university tuition in criminology. Kayne studied business administration. They were twenty when Lev had finally lost his battle to cancer. After his death, Kayne stepped up and became the master of the house, following in his father’s footsteps. Lucas began addressing him as sir, took over the security, and rallied all those remaining loyal to the Malkins, ensuring his only friend’s ascent and control in the Organization.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Evening, Lucas, I don’t believe you met Laura.”

  “Ah, Miss Spencer, no. What a pleasure.” He respectfully bowed his head to her then turned back to Kayne. “We should get going.” They embarked into the Audi, both sitting in the back with Lucas at the wheel. Laura remembered the first time she got in that car, how it changed her life. During the ride, Kayne seemed preoccupied, withdrawn. Her nervousness rose as the car sped away. Why was he acting so weird? Where was he taking her? It couldn’t be anything good if it had even him upset.

  “Sir…”

  He turned to her, his eyes still absorbed in thought.

  “Are you taking me to an interrogation?” she breathed, fear in her eyes.

  That got his attention. No, definitely not naïve, Kayne thought to himself. He sighed then looked away from her, staring out the window. “We are going to a party actually. I suspect it’s not your typical scene.”