Double Dealing: A Menage Romance

"We’ll see," she said with a knowing grin. "I'm Svetlana, your new mistress. Come, it’s passed time that you got a bath and some fresh clothes."

"I'd rather stay here," I said. “But if you're feeling generous, you can give me another blanket."

Svetlana smiled and quirked an eyebrow, and she looked more than ever like the animated Elsa — why the hell was I thinking about a Disney movie anyway? "I don't think so, Felix. You have two choices right now. You can come with me, get a shower and fresh clothing, something more appropriate for this time of year, and enjoy a day outside of this box along with some good food. Or, I can walk out. You’ll be gassed again, dragged inside, washed and strapped to a bed inside the house, where you’ll be fed gruel until you agree to behave."

"There must be a cold front moving through if you’re so concerned about getting me out of this box," I said, getting to my feet. It wasn't that I wanted to obey her wishes, but being strapped to a bed would leave me with fewer options for escaping. "Fine. What kind of food are we talking?"

"Let us get the day underway first, then we’ll see," she said. "I suppose I don’t need to remind you to not try anything stupid. I’m more capable of defending myself than it looks like."

I nodded, knowing that regardless of her self-defense skills, I was more worried about whatever other security that was around. "There’s no point in harming you right now," I said, making sure to keep a few feet away from her. As I got closer, it disturbed me to feel my attraction to her rise. Whatever they had been doing to me, it was already having an effect. “I’ll behave.”

Svetlana smiled and turned on her heel, leaving the container. I followed, noting a man with a rifle tracking me with his eyes as I stepped out onto a large estate. I could smell water in the distance, but not salt water. From my best guess, we were near a large lake or a river. Thinking about what I knew about the Ukraine, we were most likely close to the Dnieper River, which was large enough to be called a lake in certain regions. I decided to keep my knowledge to myself and play dumb. "This is quite an estate," I said instead. "Your uncle must be in with the power players of Kiev and Odessa."

"Vladimir is very generous, but your unspoken question is off on both points," she said with a small chuckle. "This property is near neither of those two cities. It’s a vacation house, given to me for the duration of your training."

"And Boris over there with the rifle?”

She glanced over her shoulder and laughed. "His name is Sacha, and he’s just security. You behave, and you won’t have to see what he can do."

We walked toward the main house slowly, my legs unsteady beneath me. Svetlana noticed. "Don’t worry, the weakness will pass."

I didn't fight it as relief washed over me, and we climbed the shallow hill to the big house. Inside it was warm, the heat settling into my suddenly chilled bones, causing me to shiver. "That’s why I decided to bring you inside," she said as I hugged my arms to my chest and shook. "Your body may have adapted some to that container, but you couldn’t have survived what is expected to hit tonight."

"How cold?" I asked, my lips quivering as she led me toward a roaring fire. I noticed a few other people out of the corner of my vision, but I had a hard time focusing on anything other than the electric feeling of Svetlana's hands on my shoulders and the warmth coming from the old-fashioned fireplace. Flanked in large stones, it looked like something from a castle.

"Minus ten," she said. I noticed for the first time she was speaking to me in English rather than Russian or French. "The container wouldn’t have stopped that much cold."

"Thank you," I said without thinking as she sat me down on a chair next to the fire. "It’s a nice chair."

She smiled at me. "You’re very lucky, Felix."

"How so?"

She chuckled. "If you’d been just some other Gypsy, you wouldn’t have been treated so well, nor given this opportunity. Thankfully, Uncle Vladimir recognizes your skills, and I happen to think American men, even half-blood French Gypsy Americans like yourself, are quite cute. If you hadn't been, you would never have left Calais. Now, warm yourself, and then we will see about getting you a shower."



* * *



As the days passed, I felt myself in a constant haze, confused. Other than that first morning, I knew I was constantly being drugged, most likely through the food that was brought to me. At least I was able to keep track of the days. My nights were filled with a strange mix of dreams and words being whispered into my unconscious self, yet every time I woke up, the room was silent.