Nora’s smile is cunning and confident; never an ounce of fear.
“The lengths that I will go to for a mission, Niklas, are more than you would ever do yourself.” She tilts her head to one side gently, her long fingers sliding away from her face as she brings her arm back down, dangling it over the back of the chair. “You will learn that about me soon enough.” Nothing about Nora suggests now that she’s still trying to seduce him—she’s all Nora Kessler, the dangerous banshee not to be trifled with.
“I’m sure I will.” Niklas’s face remains unexpressive. “It’s good to know you have no limits.”
He turns to me.
“You on the other hand,” he says, “will just have to be careful and keep your mouth shut. I’ll take care of the rest. But keeping your mouth shut is more important on this mission than it’ll ever be. Think you can do that?”
I smirk at him and cross my arms.
“Just tell me what I need to do, Niklas,” I say coolly. “Drop the parental bully act with me for once and let’s do our job with a little more professionalism.”
He smirks right back at me, but without disagreement.
Then he passes the tablet over to me and I take it into my hand, peering down into the screen.
“You may have personal experience in the sex slave trade,” he says, “but this will be a bit different. The girls in establishments like the one owned by Moretti, are, shall I say, classier.”
I look up from the screen, a scowl on my face.
“Francesca Moretti’s girls—her cyprians and those sold in her showings—are of the highest quality,” Niklas goes on. “They’re cared for like prized race horses—treated the same way, too. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are shelled out to make these girls—and guys—perfect: plastic surgery, medical procedures, special diets; they even have their own personal dieticians and speech and etiquette coaches. Their masters expect nothing less than perfection; and like a race horse, if they lose too many races or break a leg, they’re often put down.”
“Yeah, that’s not exactly how things were done in Mexico,” I say. “The plastic surgery and etiquette coaches stuff, anyway. The ‘often put down’ part, unfortunately, was the way things were done. Sounds like classier is a much better deal.”
“No,” Niklas says, “it’s not. Don’t mistake classier for safer. You need to remember that you’re never safe while you’re in the presence of these people—especially Francesca. I’m assuming Victor warned you about her reputation?”
I nod. “Yeah,” I say, waving my hand dramatically in the air, “she thinks she’s the fairest in all the land.”
“Good. Don’t give her any reason to want to kill you.”
Niklas points at the tablet in my hand. “Nora should familiarize herself with those terms and rules; make damn sure you know them like the back of your hand by the time we land.”
I peer down into the screen again; Nora moves to sit next to me so she can read the text.
“You’ll need to be consistent. But we’ll keep it basic. Remember everything you see there and we’ll be believable. Fuck up once and we’ll either cast suspicion and have more eyes on us than we want, or they’ll kill us on the spot.”
I read through the few rules quickly, absorbing each one as if I’m about to take an exam. When I get to number six, I swallow hard.
Keep a straight, unemotional expression on your face at all times, unless you’re being pleasured, or hurt.
I look up from the screen.
“Pleasured or hurt?” I inquire nervously. “We’re not going to have to actually—”
Niklas shakes his head with disappointment.
“Is that what you thought?” he asks. “That you’d be sent on a mission like this and not have to play your role fully just because you’re the boss-man’s girl?”
I bite down on the inside of my mouth.
“No, I just thought that because Victor wanted you to go with us that…”
Niklas laughs under his breath.
“No Izzy,” he finally says, and I raise my eyes to his again, “no one’s going to touch you. And yes, that’s why Victor wanted me on this mission with you, because he knows that I won’t let anything happen to you”—he pauses, and a hint of a smirk appears on his mouth—“well, at least nothing that would be considered…unforgivable.”
I nod slowly, and with relief, despite the uncomfortable chill the last part left me with.
Niklas looks to Nora.
“Now you, on the other hand,” he says, “I can’t make any promises.” He smiles.
I get the feeling that he wouldn’t make promises where Nora is concerned, even if he could.
“It’s just sex,” Nora says with a shrug. “Not that I’m in the habit of giving it away freely, but I do what needs to be done for the sake of a job.”
Niklas nods.