You Don't Own Me (The Russian Don 1)

I cough politely and Stella turns around to look at me. God knows what I look like but she jumps off the chair and cries, ‘What’s the matter? Can’t he help?’

‘We have to go home, Stella,’ I tell her. I feel empty inside.

‘What’s happened?’ she asks again.

The phone on the wall rings. Noah swallows his food and rushes to pick up the receiver.

He listens. ‘Right boss,’ he says, returns the receiver to its cradle and turns to us.

‘Boss wants me to give you girls a ride back.’

He takes his mobile out and calls someone. ‘Got to go out on an errand. Can you take over?’ He wipes his mouth on a paper napkin. Another man comes in through what looks like the back door. He is big and mean looking. His black eyes skim over us but he does not smile or offer any kind of greeting.

‘How long will you be?’ he asks Noah.

‘As long as it takes to drop them off.’ He turns towards Stella. ‘Where do you girls live?’

‘Victoria,’ Stella says.

‘You ready to go?’ he asks me.

‘Bye, Yuri,’ Stella says.

‘Yeah, bye,’ Yuri says, sitting on the stool that Noah just vacated, and picking up the bread knife.

As soon as we get into our apartment, Stella turns to me. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened or what?’ she asks impatiently.

I sigh heavily. Oh God. What a horrible mess. The last thing I want to do right now is hurt Stella. ‘Come and sit down with me, Stella,’ I say tiredly and walk towards the couch.

She follows, and instead of sitting on the sofa with me, she sits on the flowery armchair next to it. Perhaps subconsciously she already knows that I am going to wound her.

I don’t beat about the bush. I take a deep breath and plow straight in.

‘Zane will help to find Daisy, but if he does manage to locate and bring her back safely, he wants me to … become his …’ (I tried, I really did, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to say sexual slave), ‘mistress for a month.’

‘Sorry?’ she gasps. Her eyes are wide and shocked. For a moment we stare at each other. Then her eyes widen with disbelief. ‘You’re not bloody serious?’

‘I am.’

All kinds of thoughts flit across her expressive face. She can barely control her strong emotions. Unable to watch her suffering, I drop my eyes to the floor.

‘What did you say to him?’ Her voice is tight.

I raise my head. ‘I said yes.’

She closes her eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Stella.’

She opens her eyes and they are hard and probing. ‘What really happened that time you replaced me, Dahlia?’

I wince inwardly. ‘The way I was dressed and the unprofessional quality of my massage made him aware that I was no certified masseuse. He assumed I was a prostitute.’

‘What a bloody cheek?’ she explodes. ‘Didn’t you explain?’

‘Of course I did.’

She shakes her head as if trying to clear it. ‘So what … did he make a pass?’

‘Yes.’ I don’t tell her what really happened because that’s nobody’s business but mine.

‘I knew it,’ she cries suddenly. ‘I knew something must have happened.’

‘What? How?’

‘Because you used to look at me with puppy dog eyes every time I came back from my appointments with him, and you were secretly cleaning the bathroom and toilet during the period of our agreement.’

‘Yeah, I did that,’ I admit guiltily.

‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’ she asks plaintively.

I look at her pleadingly. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Stella.’

‘What happened to us telling each other the straight-up truth?’ she asks resentfully.

‘I’m sorry I blew smoke up your ass. I was so confused.’

She draws a sharp breath and looks horrified. ‘You were confused? That means you wanted him too,’ she deduces.

My cheeks burn as I nod slowly.

She throws up her hands. ‘Oh God! I don’t believe this.’

‘I’m sorry. Really I am. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you.’

She frowns. ‘And now he wants you to be his mistress?’

‘Only for a month,’ I say, and I am shocked at how bitter my voice sounds.

She presses her lips together. She looks as if she is about to cry and my heart goes out to her. ‘That was a low thing to do, Dahlia. I don’t think we can be roommates anymore,’ she says, her voice breaking, and turning on her heels, heads for her room.

I shoot my arm out and catch her. I look into her eyes. ‘Just like you I couldn’t help the way I felt. I wasn’t expecting to feel like that. I don’t want to feel the way I do,’ I explain quietly.

‘Yeah? If you were a real friend you would have told me.’

‘Told you what, Stella? That I had the hots for the rude, arrogant man who had mistaken me for a prostitute? I wanted to forget that incident. I had rejected him and I thought I would never see him again. Anyway, what would it have mattered to you? You were not going out with him, and you yourself said you had zero chance of ever going out with him. You knew he had loads of ten feet tall girlfriends. What’s the difference if he made a pass at me too?’