“It’s getting late. Dinner will be served soon.” She takes in a deep breath. “Tomas does like to start on time.”
“I’m flattered he sent you to fetch me instead of one of his guards.”
“Like you said earlier, Mr. S, you are a guest, not a prisoner. We do not need to send guards to escort you to dinner.”
“And which are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You say you’re not a slave. Are you a guest or a prisoner?”
“Neither.” Her shoulders roll back and her chin lifts. “I’m here by choice.”
“Choice?”
A loud gong sounds in the distance.
“That’s the bell for dinner. Shall I tell Tomas you will not be joining us?”
“I wouldn’t want to insult my host, now would I?” I clasp my hands behind my back and rock back on my heels. “I suppose I’ve done enough exploring for now. Maybe later, you can show me around?”
“If that’s what Tomas wants.”
She sounds as if she’d rather eat rocks than spend time with me, but damn if she doesn’t tie up her words in a pretty, little bow. I’ve never seen a more brilliant smile.
Not a prisoner and not a guest, she’s here by choice? That doesn’t make sense. Getting to the root of this mystery will be interesting.
“Please, lead on.” I gesture for her to proceed ahead of us and settle in a few steps behind her.
I admit, part of that is to enjoy the view. The way her tight ass sashays beneath that dress draws my eye, but Knox and I walk behind her to confer, using an altered form of code to discuss what comes next.
He also tells me I owe him a goddamn button. There were eight cameras in the suite.
As we walk back through the estate, following Eve, she keeps up a litany describing all the rare pieces of art, providing small bits of knowledge before we move on to the next shiny thing. I focus on what she doesn’t address, like the hundreds of cameras tucked into every corner.
Eve takes us a different way from how we arrived at my suite of room, crossing several courtyards during the long trek. Not sure if it’s my imagination, but I swear her steps slow as we exit the building and enter the protected courtyards.
“The Oasis is that way. You may wish to retire there with the others after dinner.”
“What if I desire something else?”
“Such as?”
“A midnight stroll with a beautiful woman?”
“None of the slaves are allowed outside.”
“I wasn’t speaking of them.”
Eve’s steps falter. “I belong to Tomas.”
“I thought you said you weren’t his slave?”
“I’m not.”
“Then you don’t belong to him.”
“There are many ways a person can belong to another. Tomas has my loyalty.”
“Loyalty?”
“Yes.”
Those words make me want to wring her neck. Loyal? To a fucking monster?
Knox clears his throat beside me, reminding me not to step too far out of line. I’m a buyer. It’s a role I detest, but I know exactly how to twist that to my advantage. Maxwell Sage is a man with a dark and twisted past.
“In my experience,” I say to her, “loyalty has a way of shifting.”
“Not for me.”
“Everything has a price, my dear Eve. Everything and everyone.”
Her shoulders draw back and her chin lifts. Eve spears me with a malevolent glare that would sunder any other man. Fortunately, I’m not easily intimidated, but damn if that look doesn’t stab deep into my heart.
Taking her is a card I need to play. If she’s not a slave, not an employee, and is loyal to Benefield, that means she’s untouchable. I need to break whatever hold he has over my Eve.
Good thing I’m used to accomplishing the impossible.
Sixteen
Eve
Dinner with monsters is quickly becoming my new normal. Usually, dinner is spent with Benefield and his trainers. There are always opportunities to train the girls.
Opportunity to strip away more of their humanity, demeaning them at every turn.
In addition to their sexual education, they’re trained to serve with grace. It sickens my stomach to see the girls gliding around the room, dressed in diaphanous silks that flow and lift as they flit around the tables filling glasses with water, wine, and misery.
Light, classical music carries in the air from a string quartet placed out of sight in an alcove at the far end of the room.
This week, Tomas entertains six guests. Some months there are only four. Other times there are upwards of twelve, or more. This is a smaller gathering, a more exclusive offering.
“What do you think of the girls?” Benefield lifts his glass, his words spoken to the table, but meant for his newest, first-time guest.
Max raises his glass. “They are truly exquisite.”
“Let me know if there is one that draws your eye. We can ask her to serve you later in the Oasis.”
Max’s attention shifts to me. “There is one.”
Benefield isn’t an idiot and catches the direction of Max’s gaze. He places his free hand over mine and gives a squeeze. “That is always good to hear. Not all the girls you see are available, however.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Some are still in training. I wouldn’t want to send you home with an unfinished slave.”
“Your training is admirable. Although, there is joy in the breaking.”
“This is true.”
They continue a discourse about training slaves, breaking their spirit, and conditioning them to endure unspeakable things.
I sit through it all with the slightest of smiles on my face. It’s the smile I learned to wear to the boring social functions my father forced me to attend.
I take a sip of water and choke as it goes down wrong.
“Darling Evie, are you okay?” Tomas looks at me with concern.
I cough a little, but I need to get up before I make a scene. I need to get away from this vile place.
An aching loneliness fills me and it pulses with unrelenting pain. Despite my issues with my father, I miss him. I miss his smiles. I even miss his frown when I try to get out of one of his boring social functions. What does he think happened to me?
“I’m sorry. I swallowed my drink wrong.” I cough into my napkin, playing up that I aspirated my water. “May I be excused?” I touch my throat and cough.
“We haven’t started the main course.”
“Just for a moment.” I grab my throat again and lean in close to Tomas. All eyes are on me. I feel each and every one of them. Making sure all those eager eyes get an eyeful, I place my hand on Benefield’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
Tomas gives a nod. He scoots his chair back and stands. I wait for him to move behind me to help me with mine. With all the grace instilled within me through a lifetime of etiquette classes, I rise and make my excuses. Max is the only other man at the table who takes to his feet. He gives a half bow as I turn to leave.
Once again, I touch Benefield, placing my hand on his arm. This time, however, I lift on tiptoe and lightly brush my lips against his cheek.