Page 9 of Tormented Angel

If Nazyr leaves me with Duarte, he will kill me… but that would be merciful compared to selling me at an auction.

Nazyr walks up to a far wall and pushes my back against it. I’m stuck staring into his deep chocolate brown eyes, which almost look kind… but how could they be? He’s in the criminal world, and there are no kind men there.

I clear my throat quietly and briefly remember Duarte mentioning something about Chechnya. Is that where Nazyr is from? If so, he likely knows Russian in addition to English. I begin speaking to him in Russian, hoping he’ll understand what I’m saying. “Do you speak Russian?”

Nazyr’s eyes widen, and he nods.

I swallow hard and continue speaking, knowing I haven’t practiced in a while, and I might be a bit rough. “There are cameras everywhere, in every room. There’s one watching us right now, and I’m certain he is watching everything we’re doing.”

Nazyr puts his hand around my neck and squeezes, shoving me harder against the wall. He brings his mouth against my neck and speaks in Russian. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am not going to hurt you. We need to make this look real, but I won’t violate you in the way he has. We will talk and sell what it looks like we’re doing, but that’s all.”

Relief washes over me, and for some reason, I feel as though I can trust this man.

I pray my trust isn’t falsely placed.

I pray he isn’t lying to me… because I don’t know what I’m going to do if he is.

Chapter Five

Nazyr

I take my face away from her neck and get a good look at her. Mona’s skin is flushed, and sweat beads at her hairline. It’s obvious she’s afraid, and if I were in her position, I’d probably be scared as well. I’d likely be wondering what in the fuck was going to happen to me and if the man before me was worse than the one I’m currently stuck with.

The fact she speaks fluent Russian is a welcome surprise. We’ve been speaking quietly in Russian for the last few minutes, so I continue with that trend. I can tell she doesn’t believe me by her body language. She’s scared, and rightfully so. I keep putting myself in her position, knowing all too well that this must be frightening.

“I mean what I’m saying to you. I’m not going to harm you in any way, Mona.”

She lightly scoffs and looks right into my eyes. “You might not, but he will if you leave me here. He’s either going to kill me or take me to an auction and sell me off to the highest bidder.”

The fact of the matter is she isn’t wrong. Men like Duarte do things like this, or they do worse. I’ve heard stories of men who have had women like Mona for years, and when they finally grow bored with them, they do the foulest things to them. They keep the women chained up, only giving them enough food to keep them alive, and rape them constantly, even allowing their friends to take part. Eventually, the women end up dying, and then they discard them.

Still, Duarte has been speaking about this woman like she’s important to him, even though he’s offered her to me. I can’t make sense of why he’s getting “rid” of Mona, but I think it could be as simple as he’s bored and wants someone new. This scheme would kill two birds with one stone. I have my own assumptions, but I want to know what Mona thinks about it.

“Why is he throwing you away like you’re trash?”

“I have no idea. As far as I knew, he planned on keeping me for a while. He’s never let anyone touch me. They can look, sure, but he said you couldtouchme… so everything is changing now.”

“How long have you been here?” I’m processing everything Mona’s telling me. I really believe what she’s saying—he would never let another man touch her—so what’s the difference with me? Is it because I’m an Umarova and have something he needs? It could be, but I’m not too certain.

“Three years,” Mona answers, glancing down at the floor.

I get closer to her and pretend like I’m fumbling with my pants. I bring the skirt of her dress up and arch her leg, beginning some fake thrusts. We know we’re being watched, so I can at least make it look like I’m testing her out.

The fact of the matter is Mona isn’t my problem, but can I live with myself if I leave her here, knowing what her fate will likely be? The answer is no, I can’t.

I can’t live with knowing I could’ve made a difference in this beautiful woman’s life… and Duarte was right on the money with what I enjoy. Mona is exactly my type. She’s the exact opposite of a typical Chechen woman, and that’s always the type of girl my mother tried to set me up with growing up. But I never wanted a typical woman. I wanted someone who looked different. I wanted someone who piqued my interest. So I’d take the women out who my mother would set me up with, but nothing serious ever came from it.

I can’t leave her here. As much as her life isn’t my problem, I can’t leave her here and let it amount to nothing. There’s something in her eyes that makes me want to take her out of here and keep her safe. I can’t put my finger on it, but I have to at least try.

“I’m not going to leave you here with him. I’m going to take you home with me.” I’ll make sure this is a stipulation of the deal with Duarte, but I know he wanted that anyway. He wanted me to take some money off the order, and I might take ten thousand off, but that’ll be it. Any more than that, and Ruslan will tear me a new asshole.

I expect Mona to be relieved, but I don’t sense any relief coming from her. Instead, I only see more worries. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy,” I explain, waiting for some sort of response from her. I need to know where her head’s at right now.

“Please don’t think I’m not grateful. I am. I’m grateful for the opportunity you’re giving me and the promises you’ve already made to me… but my daughters.” Mona’s eyes begin to fill with tears, but she keeps them from falling down her pale cheeks.

Daughters? They have to be Duarte’s, but I don’t have the luxury of assuming anything.

“Tell me about them.”

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