Anatoly watched her carefully. He knew what she was thinking. He could almost read her filthy mind word for word.
"I'll pay you what he agreed to pay you plus half. You stay where I tell you to stay. You do what I tell you to do. But if you talk to police or try to fuck me over, I kill you. Don't ever forget that and don't ever doubt me." His voice was low and calm but full of venom.
"I don't doubt you, but don't think that I fear you either," she lied. "This is a business arrangement. I'm not a whore, and I'm not fucking push over. I want double."
He almost laughed, but he didn't say no. He wouldn't because he planned to give her double.
"Double," she said again fading.
"There's no guarantee that my stepmother won't still kill you when she comes to her senses."
"If she didn't kill me then, she won't later."
"Don't be sure of yourself. Why… why my father?"
"You mean, why not you?"
"Yeah?"
"Because he seems mellow. You seem out of control, and I don't even know you."
"My father mellow? You are stupid."
"Yeah, I know that now. He pulled a blade and put it to my neck, then started choking me and crying and shit. Said something about sodomizing me and cutting me up. He's really fucked in the head. I thought he was going to rip me to shreds. Your stepmother actually saved me. He was always the calmer of the two, it seemed. Evidently, it was just a cover."
"Looks are deceiving," Anatoly smirked. He was proud of his father. She deserved it.
"What did you give me?" her heart pounded loudly. It felt as though it would pop out of her chest. She began to skip breaths. Her eyes rolled and hands clamored.
"You should be afraid to fall asleep around me," Anatoly said tauntingly. "You should afraid of where you'll wake up."
"As long as it's not in bed with you, I'll be fine."
"Bitch," he puffed blowing out a plume of smoke. "Still talking crazy even after all of that. You're just as fucked up as I am."
Victoria leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. The drugs had settled in now. She began to drift off.
Anatoly watched her from across the room. From his view, he could see up her skirt to her red panties. Red was his favorite color. He looked away from her and bit his lip. His father was an idiot to pass up on her.
After finishing his cigarette, he walked over to the couch and leaned over her still body. She didn't flinch. He put his hand on her neck and checked her pulse, thought about strangling her and about screwing her.
It was apparent that she was going to be trouble, yet she made his heart race more than any woman he had ever met. Finally after a minute or two of deliberation, he reached down and picked her up.
Carrying her limp body through the large condo in his arms, he took her up the stairs to the master bedroom and laid her in the bed. He pulled her shoes off, examined her pedicure. Why? He didn't know. Then he went downstairs, rummaged through her well-organized purse to find her cell phone, ID and money, took it all and left the undisclosed place quietly.
Chapter 13
The mood at the Medlov Chateau was festive by dusk. The help dashed around the house in a cheery mood, filling it with blooming white, yellow and red roses, spraying perfumes, lighting candles, opening curtains and cleaning. It was as if the house had finally come alive after many years of lying dormant.
The night sky was accented by hues of red and gold as the sun set under a full moon and eager bright stars. The breathtaking view made the chateau look majestic. Surrounded by beautiful landscaping, a well-cut immaculate lawn that stretched on flat lands for miles, a sparking lake and beautiful weather, it appeared that there was no more beautiful place in the world.
Anatoly pulled onto the private drive and could see the home lit up a mile away. It appeared that everyone light in the house was on, every window open; even the lanterns leading down the drive had been lit. Alas, his father and stepmother were in a good mood. He pulled into the circular drive, hearing the gravel crush under this tires, jumped out and ran up the long steps to the front of the house. Stepan opened the door as he grabbed the knob and let him in.
"What's going on in here?" Anatoly asked, wiping his feet off on the rug.
"Your father says tonight he cooks for the entire house, staff, family and all. Were going to have dinner in the main hall."
"He hasn't done that since they moved in," Anatoly smirked. "And Royal?"
"She has the maids cleaning and then rushing to put on regular clothes to enjoy the evening. A band from in town is coming in an hour to set up and play music, and there is a rumor that Dmitry will announce a raise tonight for all workers."
"Wow. It's amazing what a little ass can do."
Stepan gave him a frown. It was completely inappropriate to speak of Mistress Medlov in that way. He shook his head at Anatoly, giving him a look of complete admonishment, yet the boy did not take offense to the old man's rigid manners.
"Lighten up, old man. I'm just kidding with you. Plus, you know it's true."
Cracking a grin, Anatoly hit the butler on the back and headed towards the kitchen where his father surely was.
