Michelle had adamantly declined all of Omar’s attempts to persuade her to be a partner with him. He had wanted to use her as his own chief witch, or magical sorcerous, to rein with him over his vast wealth and property.
Personally, Heather believed that Omar did have supernatural powers. But then, so did Michelle.
At first Omar tried to weaken Michelle so she would be compelled to rely on him. He’d had her raped by his huge, ugly and scary minion, Samson. He’d tried to undermine her further by sabotaging her job; making lots of disasters for her to cope with at work. Heather guessed Michelle won his respect when his meddling shenanigans didn’t work.
Omar then tried to woo her with expensive gifts; he’d taken her on rides in his personal helicopter, taken her to expensive restaurants. He’d given her the enormous diamond, and his own animal familiar, Lucifer. When all else failed, he tried to trick her by casting spells.
Heather believed Omar would have married her and ditched all his other witches if that was her price. Now though, he had what he wanted. Her eggs. Now Michelle was a detriment. She posed a grave danger to him.
Omar couldn’t expect to plop Michelle back into her life in Hawaii and do absolutely nothing about being abducted to Mexico and having her eggs stolen.
Heather knew if Omar wasn’t a dangerous psychopath, at least he could be categorized a sociopath; without normal human emotions or empathy. He might just find a way to make Michelle disappear. Meaning he might kill her and dispose of her body. Heather wouldn’t put it past him.
As Heather was having gruesome thoughts about Michelle’s fate if they didn’t get to her in time, she watched Mike reach under his seat where he had placed a briefcase. Inside was his computer. He opened it up and was typing rapidly.
“I think I found it,” Mike murmured, studying the screen. “Looks like there’s only one fertility clinic in Guadalajara.”
Vincent looked at Mike with interest. “Are you good with that computer?”
Mike nodded, “I’ll try to hack into their ‘admissions.’ See if she’s there.”
Heather leaned over and watched Mike. She wondered if she’d ever get used to being impressed with his abilities. Now he seemed to jump rapid-fire from one screen to another, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
He was muttering, “She would have arrived this morning. I’m in admissions now. Checking...”
He paused for a second and turned to Heather. “Michelle Satinov. They have her checked in this morning at 11:00 A.M.”
“Shit.” Heather said. “That creep! Giving Michelle his own last name. Maybe she was forced into a shot-gun wedding in Vegas on the way to Mexico.”
Rod went over and looked down at the computer screen, then he started pacing angrily around the seating arrangement. “She’d never marry Omar.” He was scrubbing his red hair into a messy mop.
“Not willingly,” Heather agreed. She watched Rod. He could hardly contain his fury, moving around the enclosed space, with Lucifer trotting closely behind him. He was so perfect for Michelle, and obviously cared for her deeply.
Michelle had met Rod when he’d come to Hawaii from Japan to oversee the properties she managed. He was controller of the whole Heroshi Corporation, which had subsidiaries in many countries. At the time, Michelle was experiencing panic attacks whenever she was alone with a man. It was a psychological thing that she couldn’t control after having been violently raped several years previously by Omar’s scary minion and bodyguard, Samson. She was so badly hurt she’d lost an ovary. The doctors thought her chance of ever having a child were minuscule.
After the rape, alone with a man, Michelle would start trembling violently. It was like the fight-or-flight adrenalin rush response that couldn’t be controlled. She couldn’t stand to be touched, never dated, and lived a solitary, lonely life.
Heather remembered being absolutely shocked when Michelle told her she was going to try to have an affair with Omar. He’d just moved into their building. She said she had to practice on someone, and quoted a therapy called ‘progressive desensitization.’ She didn’t have amorous feelings for Omar, so he would be a good practice partner, she told Heather; like it was some super-logical decision she’d made.
Heather was upset and thought Michelle was jumping in unwisely with both feet, trying to cure herself. Sure, Omar was extraordinarily handsome, and he liked Michelle, obviously, but Heather didn’t trust anyone that strikingly attractive and had a sure feeling he would break her heart.
In the end, Michelle tried to have that affair, but when it came right down to it, she told Heather, she just couldn’t do it. They got to the point of removing clothing and Michelle had stopped dead. Something about Omar was wrong, or scary. She felt like a failure after that aborted experience and told Heather she knew she’d never be a normal woman again.
Then Heather had watched, moved and thrilled for her best friend, as Michelle and Rod became friends, and she could observe Michelle gradually losing her fear. Eventually they become lovers. Rod was the first male person that Michelle found she could trust.
Just when Michelle found happiness with a wonderful partner like Rod, trust Omar to ruin everything for her once again, Heather thought angrily.
“I don’t think they were married,” Vincent commented. “If Michelle was transported in a big box on the plane, like was described to you, Heather, I don’t think she was conscious. She was probably drugged. They’d have to revive her so she’d at least appeared coherent, dress her up, and then get her to walk down a wedding aisle, even at those fast-food, no-questions-asked, chapels in Vegas. Omar probably just used his last name for convenience when he scheduled her for the procedures they do at the clinic.”
“Michelle’s going to be so pissed,” Heather said. “The nerve of that man!”
“The big deal, though,” Mike said as he studied his computer, “is that they have an announcement
