Page 81 of Wicked Arrangement

He flicks on the monitor screen on his desk to reveal video camera footage. In it, I see my grandmother, and my heart drops. She’s being kept somewhere in a room that I don’t recognize and most definitely isn’t the care home. However, tomy relief, it appears comfortable, and she doesn’t seem hurt or distressed.

“As you can see, we have your grandmother in a secure location,” he states. “She’s unharmed and being well cared for, and she will continue to be… if you do as I ask.”

He’s won. There’s no way I’m going to refuse to do as he asks now, not with Gran’s life at stake. I drop my head, defeated.

“What do you need me to do?”

He nods and flashes another predatory smile. “Good, I’m glad we could come to an arrangement. We’re going to set up your rescue. Once you’re back in Yaroslav’s inner sanctum, you’ll get as close as possible to him and find out everything I ask. I will provide you with all the required comms. If you try to betray me or reveal to Yaroslav what I’ve asked of you, we will know. We have people far closer to him than you might think,” he warns.

“Yaroslav isn’t stupid, he won’t fall for this,” I retort.

Though inside I’m worrying about what he means, are there spies in Yaroslav’s organization?

“For your sake, let’s hope he does. If you’re not convincing, it’s your life on the line, Yaroslav won’t hesitate to kill a spy and traitor, even one as ravishing as you. And if you’re dead, so is your grandmother,” he states menacingly.

There’s nothing left for me to say. He’s won. Besides, I stand a better chance of saving myself, my unborn child, and my grandmother if I get out of here. Surely whatever Bogdan has planned for me is better than the fate Amelia promised. I listen, feeling numb as he explains what he wants from me. Once he’s done, he flings some clothing at me.

“You’ll need to change into these.”

The clothes are skimpy and worn, there’s a stained crop top and a minuscule skirt that will barely cover my ass. He also hands over a pair of sky-high stripper heels. Clearly, his plan involves me looking like a crack whore.

“There’s no way I’m wearing that,” I insist.

“You will put it on, or I will have my man here put it on for you,” he states calmly.

The man leers at me, looking as though he’d enjoy stripping me down. I shudder at the thought as his eyes hungrily roam my body.

“Can’t I at least shower first?” I plead, hoping I can clean up and change somewhere alone or even find an opportunity to escape—though I realize with a sinking heart that isn’t an option now, because then they’d hurt my Gran.

But he shakes his head. “No. It would ruin the overall effect. Now, hurry up and change, we haven’t got all night.”

“Right here?” I squeak, mortified at the thought of undressing in front of these two strange men.

“Yes,” he states, his tone offering no room for debate. “As Yaroslav’s little whore, don’t pretend to be the sweet Virgin Mary, girl. Trust me, you’d rather it’s just us looking. We could do far worse if you were so inclined, make our little sex slave plot a whole lot more believable if we both fucked you raw,” he adds.

I can tell he’s excited by the prospect and the last thing I want to do is give him time to think more or act on it. I quickly change, trying to cover myself as best as I can. My legs shake asI do so. Of all the horrendous things that have happened to me here so far, the thought of how vulnerable I am, how these men could do whatever they want to me terrifies me. I don’t think I could live with it. Bogdan’s man steps forward, a monstrous glint in his eye as he reaches out and pulls down the tube top, revealing my bare breasts and giving them a painful squeeze with his giant pawing hands.

“I’m gonna enjoy splitting you in half, bitch.”

Without thinking, I strike out at him, slapping him across the face. That only seems to excite him more as he smiles and grabs onto both of my wrists pressing his erection against me. He smells of stale sweat and cigarettes. I spit in his face and try to pull away.

“Get off me!”

“I like it when they fight back!” he exclaims as he grabs me around the throat, using the other hand to unbuckle his belt.

I can’t breathe as he grips my throat so tightly, yet I still desperately try to fight him off, but it’s no use, he’s too strong. Bogdan, who has been sitting watching quietly and calmly this whole time, finally speaks up.

“Enough, Tolya. Let her go. You can have one of the other whores to fuck. We know how carried away you get, and we need this one alive. At least for now.”

Reluctantly, Tolya obeys releasing me and I take huge gulping gasps for breath. Now, despite my initial concerns about Bogdan’s plan, I’m willing to do anything if it means getting the fuck out of here.

As I’m about to leave the room, Bogdan leaves me with some parting words of wisdom.

“Kimberly, I want you to remember this if you think you won’t be able to fool Yaroslav and that returning to the Volkovs is dangerous. Don’t get any ideas about trying to escape. In America, you have the expression, ‘Out of the frying pan, into the fire.’ In Russia, we have a similar one, ‘I ran from the wolf but ran into a bear.’ Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can run from this. I will find you.”

***

Hours later I’m sitting shivering in the dark inside a shipping container with ten other terrified and filthy young women, most of whom don’t speak English. The emaciated faces that stare into space are either numb from the horrors they’ve witnessed or from the drugs they are clearly on. No one speaks, and all of my attempts to start conversations are ignored. I can only imagine what these poor women have been through. It gives me the strength to keep it together. My ordeal is far from over, but neither is theirs. None of these women will ever be the same again. Most are far from their home countries with little prospect of ever seeing their families again or living a normal life.

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