“This is a different type of slavery,” I say, not liking the petulant tone of her voice one bit.
Her eyes grow wide. “Waaaait… ok, wait a minute. You mean… you mean sexual slavery, right?” I don’t respond, but my silence is answer enough. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Taara,” I warn. “Curb your attitude. We will join the others aboard the ship and find our room. Tomas handled the details, and he said he’d make sure we had the largest room possible. You will get some sleep shortly, but you must maintain your role in the meantime.” I scowl. “So, knock it off.”
We exit the plane and walk to the car that already waits for us. I stand her in front of me. Even disheveled and exhausted, she looks so beautiful to me with her dark black hair and petite, curvy, feminine body. In a move I hope I don’t regret, I brush her black hair off her forehead and tuck a stray lock behind her ear. Her deep brown eyes open wide, her full, beautiful lips parting. I long to bend and capture her mouth with mine, to kiss her until she moans and melts beneath me. To show her how much she means to me, even now. That my cruelty to her is of necessity and not desire. I’d so much rather treat her with tenderness.
Without explanation, I unclasp the collar and fasten it around her neck. She blinks and looks down, then lifts her eyes back to me.
“What is this?” she whispers, her brows drawing together in anger. Her moods shift so quickly, I can hardly keep up.
“A reminder to you of your subservience to me, and a declaration to anyone who looks at you that you are mine.”
A shadow crosses her features, unmistakable pain she can’t hide. I wonder what saddens her in this moment. I imagine there are many things, but I can’t allow those to be my concern.
“We will speak more freely once in the privacy of our room, but until then, you are to walk beside me and keep your head bowed. Speak to no one and remember your place.”
She nods. “Yes, sir.”
I’m pleasantly surprised by how easily she assumes her position by my side, humble and meek. Our driver takes our bags and I ease her into the car.
“We’re only a few minutes away from your port,” he says to me.
I’d have preferred a night alone with her, just one night to ease her into this next stage of the plan, but we have no time. We drive in silence, and she shivers. Without thinking, I draw her closer to me, focusing on my new role:
She is my slave now and I her master, so in these roles it’s not out of the ordinary for me to care for her.
“Come here,” I murmur, tucking her against me. “It’s colder here than in Atlanta, isn’t it?”
She shivers again, her body rigid beside me. “Yes, sir.”
And right then, with her pressed up to my side, I don’t regret any of this. Not what’s happened tonight. Not having taken her. Not even her pretending to be my slave. For having her in my arms is worth it all.
But as soon as the thought comes to me, I dismiss it. I can’t allow myself to grow sympathetic. It isn’t like me. And masters must be firm and unyielding.
“Are you—” she pauses and bites her lip but stops. “I am to only call you master?” she asks in a whisper so low I hardly hear her. “Do they know your name?”
Ah. She wonders if I’ll need to change my identity at all.
“Yes,” I say to her. “Though the others call me Stefan, you may only refer to me as master.” It’s answer enough. I will not hide my true identity, because there’s no need to. Pakhan of any brotherhood is allowed to take a slave, and many have done so. It will be easier to maintain my role as Stefan, pakhan of the Atlanta brotherhood, than feign any other identity.
We arrive at the port, and I watch as Taara’s eyes grow wide when she takes in the magnificent ship in the harbor.
“Oh, wow,” she whispers. “That’s beautiful.”
And it is. A luxury cruise ship, our destination is lit with vibrant purple and yellow lights, lending it an almost majestic air.
“Have you ever been aboard a ship?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. It seems tonight is a night of many firsts for her.
“The quarters are rather cramped, but this ship has a reputation as one of the finest.” I say this as if it makes any fucking difference, like we’re on vacation, and that’s such bullshit. I look away from her, not able to meet her eyes.
Still, we only have one day here before we head to Russia, so we need to make the most of it. I wish we weren’t so rushed, moving from one place to the next so rapidly. But we will do what we have to.