Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“What did you do to him? How did you get him to heel?”
“I removed a thorn from his paw.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s not hard at all. You just have to show him who has the authority. You can’t be frightened. Animals sense fear.”
It sounds a lot like me. No surprises there. I’m an animal, at best. I brush my lips over her hair, inhaling her sweet, raspberry scent. “Was my lesson clear enough for you, or will you need a repeat?”
“No,” she says quickly. “I get it.”
“Do you fear me?”
“Why? Do you sense it?”
“Yes,” I say gravely. I do, and I’ll encourage it, even if it’s only to use her fear like a leash, holding her close to me.
I lift her to her feet. “I’ll tell Quincy to set aside some time later today.” She brushes her hair behind her ear.
“Do you need a moment?’
She gives a grateful nod. “Please.”
I give her the privacy she needs to gather herself. After arranging for dog training with
Quincy, I distract myself by catching up on business, and then I access the financial records Anton emailed me. Valentina earned a salary from Rocky Street Veterinary Clinic. When she said she was an assistant, I assumed it was the secretarial type. That explains the white tunic the first night in Napoli’s. Debit orders went off from her account for water and electricity, which she stopped yesterday. Her credit card statements show the usual expenses for food and essentials. Other than that, Valentina isn’t a spender. Not that she had the means. There are no luxuries, nothing of the things women like, not even a tube of lipstick. Every month, she withdraws a substantial amount of cash, and it’s always the same amount, to the last cent.
I call my private banker and arrange for twenty grand to be transferred to her account. Next, I get the agent on the line and offer him a five grand commission to transfer the Berea property to my name. He’s happy to oblige. Firstly, he knows who I am. Secondly, he knows he’ll otherwise not get a cent for the flat. I arrange for the necessary transfer of ownership documents to be delivered. For Valentina’s sake, the sale must look authentic.
With the finances in place, I call the club manager at Napoli’s. I’d like to have a word with Valentina’s ex-neighbor about the burglary, and Jerry hasn’t been home since we took her and her brother. The manager assures me Jerry hasn’t been back, so I put word out that I’m looking for him. Whoever wrecked Valentina’s flat will pay. I leave the most unpleasant task for last, dialing Lambert Roos. The phone rings for a long time without going onto voicemail. Looks like I’ll have to pay Lambert a visit.
It’s only when I grow more settled again and reflect on this afternoon’s episode that I recall the lunch Valentina never finished. On strict order from Magda, Marie won’t serve the food she prepares to the staff. Is Valentina eating our leftovers? Goddamn. An uncomfortable emotion lances into my heart. The pinch in my chest won’t let up. I pull our grocery order records. Valentina is living on Granny Smith apples and cheap Chinese noodles. I feel too many things to distinguish one from the other. There are pity, concern, and anger at myself for not discovering the truth earlier. She’s starving right under my nose.
This won’t do. I need her healthy. I adjust the order and send Marie a note. From now on, Valentina will eat what I decide.
* * *
Valentina
There’s a box with my name on it in the kitchen when I come in from washing the patio.
“That’s for you,” Marie says, drying her hands on a dishcloth.
“For me?” I lift the flaps to peer inside.
There are meat, cheese, eggs, veggies, fruit, bottled water, and juice. In a smaller box, I find a variety of delicatessens, including olives, nuts, cold pressed cooking oil, and dark chocolate. There must be a mistake.
“I didn’t order these.”
“It’s from Mr. Louw.” She scrutinizes me. “Whatever you did, it made him very happy.”
I shouldn’t feel guilty, but a flush warms my cheeks. I’m ashamed of my poverty. Always have been. Gabriel’s gesture only reminds me of the gap between us. The kindness makes me irrationally sad and inexplicably angry. I’m nobody’s charity case. I’ll return everything, but for now I unpack it in the fridge to prevent the expensive food from spoiling.
When Gabriel comes to my room, I fight the orgasm he forces on me, doing everything in my power not to come, but it’s a losing battle. Eventually, the pleasure takes over. My body gives in and delivers what he wants. His power over the physical part of me is complete. He stripped me of my defenses. I can’t allow him to strip me of my pride.