“Perhaps in time your memory will improve. It seems to be an issue. Let me remind you again, rule number one is that you do as you are told. If I say a discussion is over, it is over, and this written agreement, which states whatever is pleasing to me, means consensual, not rape. I’ve decided that it would be better if you didn’t leave your suite for a while. Don’t worry; we have plenty of time—$215,000 worth of time.” Tony looked down. Under his shoes was broken crystal. He continued speaking. “I’ll tell the staff that you may have your breakfast after you clean up this crystal.”
He left Claire’s room.
“Please stop the video!” Claire cried. “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”
He hit the button and the menu reappeared. “Oh, there’re so many videos.” His amusement was clear. “We can watch for hours. For example …” The screen read March 19, 2010. “… how do you suppose your suite got into that condition? I’m sure we could find out.”
“Please!” she pleaded. “Please … you’re leaving tomorrow. Wouldn’t you rather spend tonight making movies instead of watching?”
When Claire sprang from her chair, Tony was about to follow and reprimand; instead, she fell to the floor and kneeled at his feet. Desperation emanated from every fiber of her being, from her red and puffy eyes to her runny nose. Not since she first arrived had he seen her so broken. Tony smirked. She was a far cry from the confident woman in her suite, just a few nights ago.
He leaned down and teased, purposely pushing her further. “Maybe we should watch some more—find out where you need improvement.”
“I’ll do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently—just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.”
He sat back and looked at her. Truly, the dramatics were growing old. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch, but,” he hesitated to add emphasis, “I don’t want to spend my last night here, for over a week, with you in this condition.” As he stood, he callously brushed her from his lap, causing her to fall back onto the carpet. “I’ll be in your suite in a few minutes.”
Claire stood.
Tony continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire … I’m thinking some new lingerie.”
When she started to leave the theater, Tony gripped her arm and stalled her steps. His grip tightened as she met his gaze. They’d been through this too many times. “Claire, what do you say?”
Suddenly, he saw the fire from behind the tears as her neck straightened. It took a moment, but finally she was able to articulate the pleasantries he sought. “Thank you, Tony.”
Damn her and damn that fire. He loosened his grip. “You may demonstrate your gratitude when I get upstairs.”
He watched as she stood motionless. As the silence grew, the fire smoldered to mere embers. It was then that he instructed her movement. “You have been dismissed. You may go to your suite now.”
For every promise, there is a price to pay.
—Jim Rohn
Tony wasn’t sure what to expect, or even what he wanted to find, as he walked down the S.E. corridor. He didn’t need to check the monitors; Catherine had informed him as soon as he arrived that Claire was waiting for him in her suite. Apparently, Claire had asked Catherine about his arrival, and Catherine had said that she didn’t know the particulars.
This was the longest they’d been separated since he brought her to his estate. There’d been occasions when he’d left for a day or two due to business obligations, but this separation had been ten days. Before he left, they’d had another glitch, and he didn’t leave her in the best condition. Oh, physically she was fine. Her acquired cooperation over the last five months had greatly reduced the need for physical assertiveness, beyond what came in the heat of the moment. No, when Tony left Claire, she was emotionally spent.
Breaking her spirit had been his goal, and in true Anthony Rawlings fashion, he succeeded. He remembered every minute, both in his theater and in her suite. Tony pushed Claire to a place she didn’t want to go. He’d exhibited his power and watched as the fire behind her green eyes dimmed. Then, he purposely dowsed it some more. He remembered the note he’d left on her table:
I believe we have a blockbuster on our hands. It’s
hard to say, until we thoroughly review the footage.
I plan to return a week from Wednesday. Eric is
available if you want to visit the Quad Cities. I trust
last night’s film reminded you of my rules. Don’t
disappoint me.
He left that with the intention of quenching any renegade sparks. At the time, it had been invigorating.
Then he left and—almost immediately—the elation faded.
Tony didn’t doubt his power—it was obvious. He had the ability to make Claire’s world heaven or hell; however, for a reason that Tony didn’t fully comprehend, that control didn’t satisfy him the way it once had. From the beginning of her acquisition, he’d thought of it like a business deal. He made those every day. Companies were bought and sold. They were expanded or the doors were closed. Employees benefited or suffered—it happened.
Tony told himself over and over that Claire’s role was nothing more than that of an employee—maybe less. Therefore, when his procurement was complete, when he’d succeeded and broken her spirit, he should’ve experienced the euphoria that accompanied a hard-fought gain. In the case of this acquisition, taking Claire’s mind and spirit had been more difficult than taking her body. It would seem as though his jubilation should’ve lasted longer than the car ride to the plane. It didn’t.
Without warning, uneasiness settled in.
It wasn’t that Tony missed Claire while he was in Europe; nevertheless, she continually infiltrated his thoughts. After a day or two, he decided to check the feed from her suite, believing it would satisfy his curiosity and allow him to concentrate on the matters at hand. Since there was a seven-hour time difference between Switzerland and Iowa, the morning that he peered into his iPad, he found Claire peacefully asleep in her bed. Obviously, she wasn’t having the same insomnia issues that had plagued him.
The small peek helped. Although he wasn’t able to keep Claire out of his thoughts, now those thoughts were images of her sleeping. He’d be negotiating or discussing something with someone and the satin strap of her nightgown, which had been barely visible on his small screen, would come to mind. He’d close his eyes and see her relaxed expression. If he concentrated long enough, Tony was sure that he could smell her scent, a fragrant mixture of perfume, hairspray, and sex. He’d imagine what it was like sleeping with her and removing the satin and lace from her soft skin. Although he enjoyed the way the negligees hugged her curves, they were merely for show. When he was home, she rarely spent the night actually sleeping in them.
Then, as his day progressed, his newfound peace faded. Each time he checked the feed from her suite, even late into his evening, he found the room empty. With time-lapsed speed, he saw the cleaning staff, but Claire was absent. The last image he found of her was before 9:00 AM in Iowa.