Page 7 of Kaid's Empire

She bites her lip and smiles. “No charge, madam,” she answers.

I frown in confusion. “I know I paid all inclusive, but that doesn’t include this restaurant,” I point out. Maybe it’s her first day and she is a little confused?

“No, no, madam. My, er, boss has said no charge,” she explains.

I frown again, confused. Calvin said he was a lawyer for the owner. I bet that is his way of apologising and trying to butter me up. Well, unlucky for him, I don’t forgive easily. I pull out a large wad of euros, more than enough to cover the food––plus tip––and place it on the table. “Tell your boss thanks but no thanks. I pay my own way. I don’t need any favours.” I stand and leave. My skin prickles again, feeling that now familiar feeling of someone watching me. Except this time, I don’t look back, I keep my head held high and walk back up to my room.

Five

Theia

Deciding to try again at exploring the tourist spots, I book myself on a coach trip to the prince’s palace. Being a fan of Grace Kelly, I was excited to see it. The place is beautiful and grand, and everything you would expect from a palace. My mum used to tell me about the story of Grace Kelly, the beautiful Hollywood actress marrying a real-life prince. It’s one of the reasons I came here to Monaco. It was almost a real-life fairy-tale, and I am a sucker for a fairy-tale.

I take lots of photos, knowing my mum would to love see them. By the end of the trip, my feet are aching from all the walking I've done. I might just treat myself to a spa treatment when I get back to the hotel.

As I walk through the lobby, the receptionist smiles and greets me.

“Hi, is there availability in the spa?” I ask.

“Let me check for you, Miss Edwards.” She types away on the computer. “Yes, they have an availability in the next thirty minutes. Would you like me to book you in?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, thank you.” I smile.

“There you go, Miss Edwards, all booked in. There should be a robe and slippers in your room, please wear these to the spa. Treatments start from one hundred euros and will be charged to your room, any questions don’t hesitate to ask.” She smiles.

I nod, thanking her before going up to my room to change. I pull out my phone and check my bank balance. My mum, God love her, gave me my inheritance early. I know it’s odd, but as she said, she wants to see me happy, she wants to see me living my life with the money she gives me and she can’t do that when she is dead. This holiday is my last blowout before I use the money I have left to put down on my first house. I even joked with Mum, saying I would probably be better suited with a caravan or a boat as I love to travel, but I know even if I decide to travel again in the future, I can always rent my house or flat out.

I find the robe which is made of silk and the slippers which are so soft they feel like I'm walking on soft clouds. They were perfectly placed in the wardrobe. I remove my clothes then pause. “Do I go naked under the robe or wear my underwear?” I ask myself. I shrug and decide to leave my underwear on, thinking it’s better to have areas covered just in case of a wardrobe malfunction. I laugh to myself, thinking of some of the old millionaires that are here catching a glimpse of me in my undies. Mind you, I suppose they have had their share of money grabbing woman, so seeing my cellulite arse in a pair of black lace French knickers is probably disgusting to them. I have seen a few of the old gits, clearly in their seventies but their wives are in their twenties with not an ounce of fat on them, bleached blonde hair and clearly own a loyalty card for the plastic surgeon.

I quickly chuck my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and head down to the spa. I press the button and wait for the elevator; it soon arrives and the door pings open. I go to step in but freeze as I notice that there are six men stood there, all stood like they are guarding something… it’s them from that restaurant. They also look like they could murder you with their little finger, but I push that thought to the back of my mind.

“Uh, I will get the next one.” I smile nervously.

“No, please, get in. Everyone out, meet me in the lobby,” a deep voice orders from the back of the lift.

“Oh no, please don’t wor––” Before I can finish the sentence, they all step out of the lift, two of them blocking the lift doors from closing. “Oh, well, um, thank you,” I say shyly, stepping in. They move out of the way and the doors close. I let out a long slow breath.

“What floor?” the deep voice asks, making me jump. I forgot there was still one of them in here.

I look up and lose my ability to speak. Stood there, causally leaning against the wall, is a man so devastatingly handsome that my brain has lost all function. “Er…” He looks me up and down.

“You're going to the spa,” he notes and presses the button for the lobby. I nod, unable to form any words. I shake my head in an effort to get my head together. I look away, focusing straight ahead, wishing this elevator would hurry up. I feel his gaze on me, and my skin prickles. I swallow nervously. His presence is powerful, threatening and all consuming.

I feel him move, but I daren’t take my focus from the elevator doors. “You fascinate me, Kroschka,” he whispers in my ear. I jolt, surprised that he is so close. I step forward and spin around facing him. I swallow and lift my chin.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” I snap, placing my hand on my erratic heart.

He shrugs and moves towards me. I tell myself to move, yet I don’t. I stay frozen to the spot. He reaches over, hitting the emergency stop button. The lift comes to an abrupt halt. “What are you doing?” I breathe. He leans in, caging me in, and I can’t tear my eyes away from his. He runs his finger slowly up from the base of my neck, along my jawline to my lips, he leans in close, and for a moment, I think he's going to kiss me, but he stops just millimetres from my mouth. I'm petrified, angry, and turned on all at the same time. I close my eyes, I'm not sure if it’s out of fear at what he might do or because I feel a desperation for him to kiss me. “Nyet!” he growls angrily, making my eyes spring open, and he hits the emergency button hard, making the lift start back up. His jaw clenches and he look so pissed off that I think he might kill someone.

I'm so transfixed by him, so caught up in what has just happened that I don’t realise the lift has stopped, the doors behind me opening and making me fall backwards. I try to reach out to grab hold of something, but there isn’t anything there. My arms just end up doing a windmill like motion. “Shit!” I cry out and squeeze my eyes closed, preparing for the hard floor to hit me, but it doesn’t come. I feel my robe being grabbed, and I'm suddenly being yanked forward. When I realise I'm still on my feet, I open my eyes, coming face to face with him, although this time, he isn’t looking at me. He’s looking down and I follow his gaze, and I realise that where he has grabbed hold of my robe to stop me falling, it has come undone, exposing me. I gasp and step back, snatching my robe from his hand and covering myself. My cheeks heat from humiliation and anger. “Don’t fucking come near me again,” I seethe before I turn to storm off, barging my way through his men that are waiting for him outside the elevator.

Sat having my toenails painted, thankfully the beautician hasn’t tried to start a conversation with me as my mind is elsewhere––it’s with him. I don’t even know who he is, or more to the point, why I reacted to him the way I did. It’s like he owned me, I felt powerless, and that is terrifying.

“Madam?” the beautician calls. I look up and realise she's finished.

“Sorry,” I apologise as she leads me to a table for my manicure.

I sit there, staring off into space, wondering how a man I've just met––well, let’s face it I didn’t even meet him, which makes this even more ridiculous, but how can he have such an affect on me? Maybe I am coming down with something? It’s probably my new contraceptive implant making my hormones go a little crazy. ––

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