Page 9 of Kaid's Empire

Theia

“Mum, I swear she isn’t part of the trafficking gangs. She was a nice friendly woman; I am just going to her boat for a party she is having,” I say, trying to convince her that I'm not entering some kind of pimp party for traffickers.

“That is how they do it, they get you all dressed up then drug you and get the wealthy and powerful men of the world to then choose what girl they want,” she rants away.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I should definitely cancel her on demand subscription. “Mum, how about you just trust me to make the right judgement when it comes to people and my own safety. You can even google Monaco; it has the lowest crime rate in the world.”

“Fine, but I still want a text every other day that you're okay.” She relents––these conversations are getting exhausting.

“Now, I only have two nice dresses to wear, and I've already worn the deep red one to that no-show-up dinner, so it will have to be the black. What do you think, Mum?” I ask.

“The black off-the-shoulder dress with that high split?” Mum asks.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Why did you pack that dress? Are you expecting to marry a sugar daddy?” she asks.

“No, Mum, but I packed it because if I decided to go to the casino, I have to be dressed accordingly. I'm not lying, Mum, when I say this place is like nothing else I've seen before. I think everyone here owns a Porsche or a Bentley. Even the toilet paper in my room feels like silk.”

“Bring me some of that toilet paper back. Now go have responsible fun, and never leave your drink unattended,” she warns.

“I promise. Goodnight, Mum.” I sigh before disconnecting.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, looking at my reflection, I almost don’t recognise myself. I look elegant, graceful and sexy. I could definitely pass for a resident of Monaco wearing this. I grab my clutch bag and take a nervous breath. “You got this, Theia.”

I walk through the lobby to the reception. “Hi, I have a car picking me up at seven p.m.,” I ask the receptionist.

“Yes, madam, let me check to see if it has arrived for you.” She smiles. Picking up the phone, she calls through to––I'm guessing––valet parking. I could have just walked outside and asked them myself. “Madam, your car is ready and waiting for you outside. Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you.” I smile and make my way outside.

“Madam, this way,” a gentleman greets, holding out his arm to escort me to the car, and of course, the car is a Bentley.

“Fuck me,” I blurt. The driver that is stood there holding open my door coughs to cover his laugh. “I'm sorry, I have just never been in a Bentley before,” I apologise.

“You will enjoy the luxury, madam.” He smiles.

I get in, my eyes wide as I take in this extravagant car––it even has a mini fridge in it! As we drive through the roads, I expect people to look in awe at this amazing car, but they don’t, they just look on like there is a Ford Focus driving past.

Driving along the port, I have my face pressed up against the window, looking at the huge yachts. “This is like something out of a movie,” I whisper. The car comes to a stop and the driver opens my door. I get out as gracefully as I can. He holds out his hand and gestures to the dock. I frown and follow him; he stops at a small boat. I sigh, feeling slightly relieved it isn’t a ridiculously huge yacht. Once on board, I look around. “Where is everyone else?” I ask.

“They are already waiting on board,” the driver of the boat states.

“Wait, what?” I ask, confused.

He points ahead. “They are on board the Julieann, Madam.”

I follow the direction he pointed, and I grab a hold of the rail to stop myself from falling. There, ahead of us, is an enormous yacht… no, it’s not a yacht, it’s more like a cruise liner. “I feel sick.” I breathe.

“Would you like me to slow the boat?” he offers.

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s fine.” I swallow nervously.

The boat slows as it approaches the giant yacht. “Um, how do I?” I ask, pointing to my heels. He smiles and guides the boat to an opening in the yacht. “Holy ship, you can park this inside the yacht?” I ask, astonished.

“Yes, madam. See? No need to worry,” he states as he turns off the engine. Two crew members approach and help me out of the boat.

I turn and thank the man for bringing me here. “Madam, Miss Allegra is expecting you, please follow me,” the crew member states. I nod, although with the way he talks, I feel like I should be curtsying.

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