I had about an hour to myself once Mrs. Suramongkol and the jeweller had departed. Alexander was nowhere to be seen. I contemplated going out for a walk but decided I didn’t know if it violated his rules. I didn’t know if I was supposed to sit in his hotel room and wait for him. It would have been what Dylan would have expected. And my time with Dylan was the only blueprint I had to guide me in this situation.
But about fifteen minutes after the jeweller had left, the new phone that Alexander had given me buzzed. I picked it up. “Jenny, this is Alexander,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know I’m probably going to be a little bit longer. I’m sorry. If you want to go out, there’s a car downstairs that’ll take you around.”
“Okay.” I hesitated and plunged forward. “Should I wait for you to eat lunch?”
“Fuck.” He swore into the phone. “Sorry, cherie. I forgot about food. There are a couple of restaurants in the hotel. Put it on the room tab.”
Evidently, part of being my ridiculously wealthy Dominant was paying for every meal. I should have been used to it. Slaves didn’t think about money and during my training period with Lucien, I’d been paid a stipend while I focused on my revenge. Lucien was rich but we’d agreed quickly that it wasn’t healthy if I had to run to him for my every financial need.
But that wasn’t going to be the dynamic at play here. The racks of clothing in front of me, the velvet boxes with jewelry in them – these were all so that I could be arm-candy. The appropriately attired pet of a billionaire.
There was rebellion in my heart, though there shouldn’t have been. It was foolhardy to my mission for me to even sow the slightest seed of discord. I was Alexander’s submissive. My job was to surrender with eagerness and pleasure. All I had to do was look pretty and have sex with him as often as he wanted it.
For two years in Dylan’s compound, that had been my only role. And today, on this morning when the sun shone brightly, I couldn’t stomach it anymore. I got dressed in one of my own items of clothing. Functional bra and panties, a pair of olive-green cargo pants and a grey tank top. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Absolutely no make-up graced my skin.
On the first day of a three-month contract, it prickled to feel like property. I needed desperately to feel like my own person.
***
Of course I was followed. There was a team of three men that tailed me, alternating so they wouldn’t be too obvious. Had I not been trained, I would have never known.
It wasn’t a surprise. He’d paid a million dollars for me. You wouldn’t buy a diamond ring for a million dollars and fail to insure it, would you? It was the same with me. That was all these men were. Insurance.
I ignored the sour taste in my mouth. I’d come to the auction knowing full well what was going to be in store for me. As much as Alexander was kind to me, he was still on remarkably convivial terms with Sylvia. He was Dylan’s financier. He’d paid a million dollars for me without the slightest flinch.
It would be a mistake to focus only on the kindness. It would be a mistake to forget who he was. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.
I was too much of a trained operative to contemplate going anywhere close to Lucien. I didn’t even know where he was and I wasn’t about to use the phone Alexander had given me to find out. I wasn’t an idiot. Each call would be logged. I just knew that he’d be close enough to pull me out if I needed.
That was a reminder. I dialled the number of my ‘sister’ in Cleveland. This had been a carefully hatched plan. There was a woman standing by, waiting for my calls. The number was even registered to Alicia Fullerton. Enough of a cover had been created to fool Madame Lorraine’s investigators. Plus, since I knew I couldn’t call Lucien, this was a way to get coded messages to him.
“Jenny,” the woman on the other end of the line shrieked. She was good. She even sounded happy to hear from me. Lucien must have impressed on her the absolute need to maintain the cover story.
“Alicia,” I replied lightly. I’d told Madame Lorraine that my sister didn’t know what I was doing and that she thought I was simply taking a much-needed vacation. “I finally got a phone, so I thought I’d call and check in on you.” We exchanged shallow pleasantries. I asked some questions about her health. She responded with some assurances. It was weird having what was supposedly a loving, intimate conversation with your sister with a total stranger. If anyone was listening to our conversation, I wondered how convincing I sounded.
In code, I mentioned I was fine. Unhurt. I would call Lucien tomorrow morning.
Once I was done with that chore, I walked rather aimlessly. I headed out of the glitzy portion of Bangkok and back towards Khao San Road. There, I found a little café that catered to Western tastes. I ordered myself a latte and sat down, revelling in the blissful air-conditioning that permeated the space.