Page 68 of High Roller

Zara opens the door wider. “There are guards outside all the entrances, so I wouldn’t waste your energy trying to escape.”

The thought had briefly crossed my mind, but I’ve pretty much given up on that desire. It’s not ideal, but I’m safer here. Not to mention, I have no desire to be shot by an overzealous guard.

A table with food is waiting for us in the main dungeon, and I’m so glad to be out of that room. There is no telling what Zara wants with me, but the little bit of freedom is already doing wonders for my brain.

“I picked up a selection of smaller sandwiches because I wasn’t sure what you liked. Help yourself.”

Before sitting, I fill a plate and take the first bite. Aside from the bagel Grace brought me, I’ve been living off of sandwiches since I’ve been here. But today, I don’t mind because I’m not stuck in that goddamn room.

Zara makes her own plate while I sit and observe. I don’t say as much, but she looks familiar, and I can’t figure out why. Hopefully, it will come to me as we talk.

“Where’s Grace today?”

“She’s not working until later. Victor asked me to talk with you and see how you’re doing.”

“Bullshit. Victor asked you to pump me for information.”

Zara smiles. “Perhaps you’re right about Victor. I’m the one who wanted to see how you’re doing. While I understand why Victor did what he did, I don’t agree with it. There were better ways than taking you hostage.”

It’s easy to agree with Zara there. Still, I’m skeptical of her kindness. Much like Grace, I suspect we might be friends if we’d met under different circumstances. I am fascinated by this group of people Matteo has gathered here—It’s clear Matteo is the glue that holds this operation together.

“Tell me about your husband,” Zara says, getting straight to the point.

“What would you like me to tell you?”

“He hires a lot of sex workers. Do you know anything about that?”

I shake my head. “It’s something I suspected for a while, but I don’t have details, and I prefer it that way. I can tell you his assistant does the hiring, and I’m ninety percent certain they probably go through one of the brothels outside city limits. While prostitution is frowned on in more conservative circles—I’m sorry it’s supposed to be sex work now I think—the conservatives still run most of the brothels and will keep their friends’ names out of it if reporters come sniffing.

Zara smiles. “I’m well aware of how the brothels around here work. I’m in the industry and avoided working for one while I was doing full-service work. Now I just create adult content for the internet.”

“And your husband is OK with that?”

Zara laughs. “OK? That might be too strong a word for it. But he deals with it, and we have some agreements in place that make it easier on him.”

“That’s nice that you’ve worked that out.”

“It is. I love him and I give him control over a lot of other areas of my life, but my career was a deal-breaker, and I had to find a way to make it work on my own terms. It could never have been something he dictated to me.”

“So, you’re his submissive?”

“Only sometimes. We have agreements about that too. Those lines are a little blurrier though, and our power exchange bleeds into all areas of our lives.”

I smile. “That sounds really nice. Have I given you anything helpful?”

“Yes. Looking into your husband’s assistant and the brothels he might frequent is a good place to start. What else can you tell me about him?”

“He’s sadistic in bed with me.”

“And are you a willing masochist?”

I bite my lip, and she puts her hand over mine. “That was too personal. I apologize.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s fine. He doesn’t give me a choice, so I would not say I’m willing.”

Zara nods. “Understandable. Even our darker desires should only be explored with the full consent of everyone involved. I’m sorry that you have suffered abuse. No one should have to go through that.”

“You look like someone,” I say after we sit eating in silence for a few minutes. It’s not coming to me, and she’s made me comfortable enough to give in to my urge to say something.

---