Dubious

by Charmaine Pauls

  “Marvin Haynes’ daughter?”

  “The one and only.”

  “I’m on it. By when do you need it?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “I don’t know why I still ask.”

  I’m about to head for a shower when Rhett returns.

  “The flat was broken into,” he says. “I spoke to the agent Valentina met there. Apparently, the place was turned upside down.”

  Why the fuck would someone burglar her place when it’s under our protection? It’s a stupid act only an idiot on a suicide mission would risk.

  “Any leads?” I ask tightly.

  “No. Must be a random break-in, maybe a thief who’s new to the neighborhood and doesn’t know shit about the hierarchy.”

  True. There are thousands of murderers and thieves out there. Not everyone is familiar with the families or how we operate. Still, I smell a rat, and I don’t like it.

  I give him a pat on the shoulder. “Get some rest.”

  He’s been up with me all night. If the business meeting on Saturday hadn’t run overtime, I would’ve been home before Valentina left for the weekend. I was irritated for not being able to see her before she was off for two nights and a day. I tracked her via her phone to Orange Grove, and when she went back to Berea, we spent the night outside her flat, parked in a nearby street. I was lucky I checked the tracker when I did, or I wouldn’t have noticed she was on the move, being attacked in a dirty alley by that filthy Zambian. I didn’t expect her to leave that early. My bodyguards must think I’m crazy, but they’re wiser than to comment. I could’ve broken down her new door again and dragged her home to safety, but I want Valentina to have an illusion of freedom. Magda wants her to have hope, but I want her to be happy. Suddenly and inexplicably, it’s important to me.

  * * *

  Valentina

  It’s after noon when I wake with a start. Ice fills my veins when the memory of this morning floods my mind. Gabriel shot a man because of me. I know it’s not the first man he’s killed, and it won’t be the last, but I didn’t want to be responsible. If I’m to function today, I can’t think about it. Pushing the dark memory from my mind, I pull on a uniform and braid my hair.

  Marie looks up when I enter the kitchen, her face pulled into a scowl. “Mr. Louw said you’re sick. Apparently, so is Carly. Must be a bug going through the house. I made the beds, but you better see to the laundry.”

  I grab the washing basket and brush past her to fetch the dirty clothes from the bedrooms. Before I reach Carly’s room, heated voices coming through the open door stop me in my tracks.

  “Dad, come on, I’m old enough to go on a date.”

  “Not with a boy I don’t know from Adam.”

  “You want to know every boy who asks me out on a date? Jesus, Dad, they’re too scared of you to come to our house. I may as well become a nun now and get it over with.”

  “Watch your tongue, young lady.”

  “All the girls in my class are going with dates. It’s only a movie.”

  “I said no.”

  “I’ll look like an idiot if I go alone. Everyone will think I couldn’t get a date.”

  “If that’s your only motivation for wanting to go with him, you’re not doing it for the right reason.”

  “Dad!”

  “If it’s really such a big deal, I’ll get the Hills’ boy to go with you.”

  “You’re mean and cruel! I don’t like Anthony Hill. I like Sebastian.”

  “I don’t give a damn. I don’t trust a man I don’t know, and I don’t know Sebastian.”

  “You’re ruining my life!” Carly storms from the room, her eyes brimming with tears. “I hate you!”

  She runs down the stairs, her sobs audible until the front door slams behind her. When I look around the door, Gabriel stands in the middle of the room, his eyes closed and his head turned up to the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?” Magda says behind me, making me jump. “Eavesdropping?”

  “Laundry.” I lift the basket.

  “Get on with it then.”

  I get out of her way and load the washing machine, but I can’t stop thinking about Carly. In some regards she’s a brat, but I feel for her. I remember what is was like when my father told me who I’d marry and that I’d never be allowed to go out with other boys. At the time, it felt like my world had come to an end.

  Later, when I wash the windows, I see Carly sitting outside by the pool, her cheeks streaked with tears. I pour a glass of lemonade and carry it outside.

  Leaving it on the table next to her, I say, “I’m sorry you’re upset.”

  She crosses her arms. “I’m sure you are.”

  “He’s just being protective.”

  “He’s a pain in the ass.”

  My mom always paved the way for me with my dad. “Why don’t you ask your mom to speak to him?”

  She snorts. “Like that will help. She’s ten times worse.”

  “When is this big night?”

  “Friday.”

  “Maybe he’ll come around.”

  “If that’s what you think, you don’t know my father.”

  I stare down into her unhappy face, seeing myself at a younger age when I already knew I’d never have love, not the kind people marry for, anyway. Maybe it’s the futility of my life, of my own unhappy existence that makes me blurt out, “Do you want me to speak to him?”

  She jerks her head up, her lips parted. “Will you?”

  “I can’t guarantee he’ll listen, but I can try.”

  She turns her face toward the pool, staring at the blue water with empty eyes. “I guess you’re my only shot. No one else will try.”

  “All right. Now cheer up. Sulking gives you wrinkles.”

  A smile almost curves her lips.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  I’m poring over the information Anton sent about Valentina––the general stuff that’s easy to come by––when the object of my research walks into my study.

  “Excuse me, do you have a minute?”

  Lowering the report, I scrutinize her. She looks pale. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes.” She fixes her gaze on the carpet and shuffles her feet. “Thank you.”

  She’s nervous. “What is it, Valentina?”

  “Earlier on, back there,” she throws a thumb in a general direction, “I couldn’t help but overhear the argument.”

  I lean back in my chair and narrow my gaze. “With Carly?”

  “It’s none of my business, but––”

  “Damn right, it’s not.” Carly is my daughter, and whatever issues I have as a father are private.

  At my tone, her eyes grow large. I can practically see the fear bleeding into them. Making a conscious effort to soften my tone, I say, “Whatever you want to say, I’m sure you mean well, but your opinion is unwanted.” I turn my face to the computer screen, not dismissing her, but showing her she no longer has my undivided attention.

  For a moment, she says nothing. I believe she’s going to bolt, but then she lifts her chin and looks down at me from her meager height.

  “Gabriel.”

  All I want is to throw her over the desk and fuck her, but in this, I have to show her her place.

  “It’s sir when I’m not going down on you.”

  Her cheeks turn pink, but she stands her ground, her gorgeous courage making me hot around my collar and hard in my pants.

  “Sir, I promised Carly I’d speak to you. You can do to me whatever you want, listen or not listen, but I won’t break my promise.”

  The chair scrapes over the floor as I push it back and get to my feet. “I won’t tell you again, keep your nose out of my business.”

  The hem of her dress trembles––her knees must be shaking––but she doesn’t back down. “You’re making a mistake.”

  I round the desk and stop in front of her. “Am I, now?”

  “You should let Carly decide who she wants to go out with.”<
br />
  “You would know.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not a parent. Until you are, keep your opinion to yourself.”

  She cranes her neck to look me in the eyes. “No, I’m not a parent, but I’ve been there. I know what it feels like.”

  The angry part of me stills as I picture her as a young woman asking her father’s permission to go out on a date. From the report I just read, I know she was only thirteen when he died, way too young to date, but I’m curious.

  “My father already decided who I was going to marry when I turned ten. It didn’t matter what I wanted or how I felt. My mother was already gathering a trousseau for the day I’d turn eighteen. My father passed away early, saving me from that fate, but if he’d still been alive, I would’ve been far, far away from here.”

  There’s nowhere far enough she could’ve run. Marvin would’ve found her. He was a small fish in a big pond, but he was part of the mob. Every single man in the business would’ve been looking for her. My curiosity piqued further, I ask, “Who were you supposed to marry?”

  “Lambert Roos.”

  It makes sense. It would’ve strengthened Marvin’s connections, but hearing her say it doesn’t sit right with me. Lambert is an old fart. I feel like killing him now just because he once upon a time considered marrying her. Which raises the questions I’ve been mulling over for the last hour. Why didn’t anyone in the family take the Haynes orphans in? Now I want to know, why didn’t the Roos family take Valentina and Charles when their mother died? Lambert’s family should’ve claimed them and raised Valentina until she turned a marriageable age. Too many things about Valentina don’t add up.

  She watches me with her big eyes. “Don’t push her away. Give her reason to confide in you, not to do things behind your back. Carly is her own person. She deserves to make her own choices, even if they’re mistakes.”

  Everything she says is true, but the protective side of me is too fierce.

  “It’s just a date,” she continues. “You can’t lock her in a glass cage forever. She has to find her way in life.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Of course you can. At least meet the kid before you cast judgment. Invite him over. That way you can decide if she’s safe with him.”

  I consider her words. I’m not the world’s greatest father, but I want what’s best for Carly.

  “You can always kill him if he misbehaves,” she says with a hint of a smile.

  It’s her way of telling me she accepted what happened this morning, not that I need her acceptance. I’m not worried about her ratting on me, either, because I know how desperately she wants to keep her brother alive. Anyway, it won’t do her any good. Magda practically owns the police force.

  I sigh and wipe a hand over my face. “I have to discuss it with her mother.”

  Hope lights up the somber depths of her eyes. “Can I tell her you’ll think about it?”

  “Fine.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “I’ll think about it, and I’ll tell her myself.”

  “Thank you,” she says, as if I just granted her freedom to date, which brings another nagging issue to my mind––Valentina’s virginity.

  I won’t be able to hold off much longer. At some point, my control is going to snap. It tears me apart to even think about it, but soon I’ll have to face the decision I’ve been putting off for far too long.

  * * *

  When Valentina is cleaning upstairs, I send Marie out on a shopping errand with Quincy, and go through Valentina’s room. Except for a few pieces of clothing, a pair of flip-flops, and a change of plain, white underwear, there are raspberry-scented shampoo, body lotion, deodorant, and tampons in her closet. There are no cosmetics, jewelry, or shoes, not even a hairclip.

  On the bottom shelf, I find a stack of text and notebooks. From the titles, I deduce they’re on veterinary science. Could it be that Valentina is a university student? It should’ve occurred to me earlier. She’s clever, driven, and ambitious. It makes sense that she’d want to further her education. As I’m staring at her neat handwriting, I’m struck by another foreign emotion.

  Pride.

  The pride I feel for Carly is her birthright, but this is different. This pride is earned. A piece of the ever-present coldness in me makes way for a pleasant rush of heat. Valentina wants to be a vet. She’ll make a brilliant, gorgeous animal doctor. This is why she needs the money. I finished an MBA after high school, and I know how much hard work it is. She won’t keep up this job and her studies. Not for long. The part of me that wants her to be happy wants her to have this, but I’ll have to find a way around Magda.

  I’m enjoying the sensation of warmth in my chest too much to let it go, but when my gaze sweeps over her belongings, a new feeling dampens my pride. It takes me a while to place it.

  Fuck me. I feel compassion. Big, empathic compassion. I always knew Valentina was going to play havoc with my body, but what the hell is she doing to my heart?

  * * *

  Valentina

  “Which one?” Carly holds up a pink strapless dress and a blue one with a tight-fitting bodice.

  I stop ironing to consider the options. “The pink one.” Gabriel will definitely object if she shows off too much of her figure.

  She puts the pink one on the ironing pile and lifts her hair on top of her head. “Up or down?”

  “You have a pretty neck. I’d say up.”

  She all but skips from the scullery, leaving me with a smile. I’m glad Gabriel finally agreed to let her go out after meeting Sebastian and his parents. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see Carly was smitten with the boy. He has all the qualities to make a schoolgirl’s knees weak, including playing for the school rugby team.

  I finish pressing the tablecloth, hiding a yawn behind my hand. I’m exhausted. It’s a battle to keep my eyes open past eleven. Every night, Gabriel comes to me. My body has learned not only to respond to him, but also to need the pleasure he gives me like I need food and water. When my body hits the mattress, it starts craving him. I’m wet and aching before he even walks through my door. By the time he fondles and kisses me, I’m begging for release. Sometimes, he lets me return the favor. It’s always the same routine. When it’s me making him come, he leaves everything up to me. I find comfort and power in this, and I also find I need more. I’m ashamed to admit I want more from Gabriel than oral sex. I’m fantasizing about having him inside my body, feeling him rock a rhythm into me with his cock. I shouldn’t want this, not from him of all people. I crave what he does to my body, but I hate him for having this effect on me. I never wanted a man before or had erotic dreams, but now I wake up soaked and needy every morning, my senses super aware of him as he moves around the house. Last night, I was on the verge of asking him to fuck me, but my pride won’t let me. Maybe controlling me with powerful orgasms is enough for him, but it’s not enough for me. Not only did he make me a whore, he made me a greedy one.

  “Meeting in the kitchen,” Marie says, breaking my train of thought.

  I let my hair fall around my face to hide my flustered cheeks. “Coming.”

  Magda is waiting for us with a clipboard in her hand. As usual, she jumps straight into business. “It’s my son’s birthday in four months, and we’re hosting a party at the house. I’m hiring caterers and servers, but everyone’s help is needed. Make sure you’re available on Saturday and Sunday the tenth and eleventh of March. It’ll finish late, so, Marie, you’ll have to sleep over. You can share Valentina’s room. Any questions?”

  Both Marie and I shake our heads.

  “Good. I’ll give you more details closer to the time.”

  When she’s gone, trying to sound casual, I ask, “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “He had Carly young.”

  “He married Mrs. Louw when they were both only nineteen. They had Carly the following year.”

  “Was it an arranged marriage?”

  Marie pulls
her back straight. “You shouldn’t ask questions about affairs that don’t concern you.”

  She’s right, but I have an insatiable curiosity about my keeper. I’m devastated to admit I want to know everything there is to know about him.

  “The table needs to be cleared,” she says harshly.

  I tidy the dining room and smuggle the untouched food to my room. On my break, I carry the Shepard’s Pie outside and make myself comfortable on the low wall separating the garden from the pool.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  Before Valentina’s arrival, I never spent time in the kitchen. I never had reason to. Now, I gravitate to that part of the house with increasing frequency. An urge to see Valentina drives me there, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Marie can’t hide her shock at my presence, more so when I switch on the kettle and take a mug from the cupboard.

  “Anything I can do, Mr. Louw?”

  “I’ve got this.”

  She eyes me warily as I drop a teabag into the mug.

  “I can prepare you a tray,” she says, “or get Valentina to bring it to your study.”

  “Where is Valentina?”

  “Lunch break.” The way she wrinkles her nose tells me our maid isn’t one of her favorites. Any resentment she has should be directed at me. The little maid came voluntarily, but only because I made sure there was no other choice.

  “Shall I call her?” Marie asks, watching me with hawk eyes.

  “No.” Valentina needs her rest. Her back is breaking under the burdens Magda piles on her.

  “As you wish.” Her dismay is laughable. If she weren’t a loyal employee, I would’ve kicked her ass out on the spot.

  As if sensing my discord, she moves away quickly, busying herself with chopping vegetables. I don’t really want the damn tea, but if I abandon the task, Marie will know my ulterior motive for gatecrashing in the kitchen.

  I walk to the window while I wait for the water the boil and jolt to a standstill. Valentina sits on the wall with a plate in her hands.

  I go colder than the morgue.