“Izabel,” Nora says with caution.
I turn to see her standing beside me; You can’t help that girl, her eyes tell me.
I’m saying what needs to be said to get her to trust us, my eyes tell her.
Nora nods.
I look back into Sian’s hopeful face.
“Leave with us,” I say, “and when you walk out that door, just be calm and act normal—savor your first real taste of freedom; think of your daughter and of Emilio and of being reunited with them soon, and I promise you that you will be if you just trust me.”
It takes her a moment, but finally Sian nods; she reaches up and wipes tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “OK,” she says.
“We need to go,” Nora urges.
“Are you ready?” I ask Sian.
“Yes.”
With bags and suitcases in tow, we leave the hotel and head for the plane.
Niklas
“Unfortunately,” I tell Francesca, “none of these girls will do, either.”
Francesca walks around a line of nine cyprians all standing in a confused row: two of them keep asking what’s going on; two more are giving me go-to-hell looks; one is crying because she thinks she did something wrong and was brought here to be killed; the other four think I’m just looking to buy their services and were happy to oblige until I just rejected them. Now they’re also telling me with their eyes to go to hell.
“That is a shame,” Francesca says.
She waves them off and they follow Miz Ghita out of the room.
“Mother,” Francesca calls out, and Miz Ghita stops at the door. “I do not want to be disturbed by anyone for the next hour at least.” Hopefully Emilio is still brazen enough to defy her orders—I need him.
“Very well.” Miz Ghita glares hatefully at me and leaves, closing the door.
Francesca strolls over in that sultry walk of hers and fits her fingers around the tiny lock in the door knob, turning it. She’s dressed in another robe today—white, of course—but devoid of innocent girls’ blood. And I bet there’s nothing on underneath it.
“Last night,” she says, coming toward me, “after you’d gone, I thought a lot about our meeting.”
“And?” I take a drag from my cigarette; I’m kicked back on the sofa, both feet on the floor, my legs apart.
She smiles faintly.
“And I like you, Niklas,” she says. “I’ve never met anyone like you before, and I think we could learn a lot from one another.”
She stops in front of me; long dark hair drapes her shoulders. I set the cigarette in the ashtray on the end table.
“Learn from one another?” I ask, suspiciously, smiling up at her. “That’s not what really interests you, is it?”
She grins. Then she breaks apart the belt that holds her robe closed and stands naked before me. The robe falls to the floor.
“Well, Niklas, there are many things we can learn.”
“And what exactly do you want to know?” I ask, already having a good idea.
She steps between my splayed legs, in arm’s reach, and I place my hands on her bare thighs, brushing my fingers across her soft skin.
“I want to know,” she says, “what you feel like.”
Slipping my hands from her outer thighs to the inner, I run them up and down the sensitive flesh, feeling it warm beneath my palms. “Is that all?” I say, and move my fingers between her wet lips without entering her—she closes her eyes, savoring it. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” she says, “but we can talk about that later.”
“I would like to talk about it now, if you don’t mind.”
She pauses. “All right,” she says, and sits down next to me. “I will get right to it then—I have a proposition for you.”
“What kind of proposition?” I take another drag.
She twirls my hair in her fingers, her arm around the back of my neck.
“I need a master here in my mansion to train my new arrivals, get them ready for the showings. Emilio has always done it, but my brother went astray, betrayed me and fell for one of the very girls he was supposed to be priming. He has made me look bad, to the other masters who sell their merchandise in my showings, and to my family. It is unacceptable. He always did have a soft spot for the girls, never quite disciplined them to my liking.” With her other hand she turns my head to face her fully. “But you, Niklas, I know can get things done the way they should be. You not only seem willing to punish without mercy, but you enjoy it. It was you who cut off your girl’s finger, wasn’t it?” She grins.