by Monica James
Shaken, not stirred. Seven deadly sins +2
I know the seven deadly sins like the back of my hand as they were drummed into my head at Sunday School. They are: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. Could plus two mean the second sin, which is greed?
It makes sense.
Could Saint be telling me that my James Bond likes to gamble? Or is just plain greedy? But there are a million other famous James Bond phrases he could have used. What’s the importance of using this particular one?
From memory, Sean Connery was the actor who first said this famous catchphrase. So what’s the importance of that? That mystery will have to wait, however, because I have about a hundred or so pages of secrecy I still have to crack.
Settling against the pillows, I reach for a notepad and pen, determined to put James Bond to shame.
I’ve spent the entire day combing over the journal, and I haven’t even made a dent yet. But I won’t allow that to deter me because what I have uncovered has me desperate to unearth it all.
From what I can tell, there is no fixed number of members in The Circle. The “club” is exclusive and only known to trusted friends. However, there are four main members, and Alek is one of them. I have figured out three of the four.
Astra, otherwise known as The Ice Queen, was born in Ukraine, though I wouldn’t have guessed it as I didn’t hear an accent. But just like Alek, these people are chameleons and fly under the radar to remain undetected for what they really are.
Saint was a little light handed with the information on Oscar, which leaves me wondering why. I can’t shake the feeling that something between them is personal. He made it clear he is interested in Saint, and I think if he were to pick, Saint would be his number one.
There are notes on where they meet, who they deal with, and how they keep their little club a secret. All members have something to lose if their dealings became public because the shit they’ve done is truly horrific.
Human trafficking. Sex slaves. Embezzlement. The list reads like something out of a true crime novel.
These people are far more dangerous than your average criminal because not only do they have power, but more importantly, they also have money. And money talks—no matter your crime.
I have the addresses, occupations, and the connections these people have, but there is still so much more to learn. Saint said this journal would save me, and he’s right. Once I decode everything, I will have enough dirt on all of them to bring them down.
I just need to find the weakest link.
I can’t stop looking at the quote Saint used for Oscar.
A good friend will always stab you in the front.
Could he be trying to tell me that Oscar is, in fact, just that?
Needing a break, I decide to raid the refrigerator to hydrate before I go back to the books. I have no idea where Alek is as he hasn’t checked in on me, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Once I’ve hidden the journal, I walk down the quiet hallway, wondering where everyone is.
Finding the kitchen empty, I can’t help but glance at the hidden trapdoor. I wouldn’t get three feet before I was dragged back by my hair. I will just have to wait for further instruction from Saint.
I hunt through the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and what looks like leftover potato salad. I don’t actually know how many people reside here because I rarely see the same face twice. Most people come and go in this place. Sadly, I’m not one of them.
As I’m gulping down my water, a man enters, and judging from his black combat getup, he’s one of Alek’s guards. “I was told to come and find you.”
His English is exceptional.
“You found me,” I quip, instantly disliking him.
“You’re to come with me.”
“To where?” I ask, capping the water bottle.
“You will see soon enough.”
All this ambiguity makes me nervous.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I state, ready to lunge for the knife block if he takes a step toward me. “Where is Alek?”
It’s ironic that I’d feel safer with him here because something about this man makes my skin crawl.
Clearly not one for small talk, he says, “Look, you may have fooled everyone else, but I see you for what you are. So you either come with me willingly, or I make you.”
I wet my dry lips. “I haven’t fooled anyone,” I argue. “If I had, would I still be here as a prisoner?”
He has the gall to laugh. “Prisoner? Is that what you call it? Zoey was never allowed the privileges you have.”
Oh, shit. This is personal for him because he speaks her name with affection. Then a thought hits me. Does he know where she is because if he does, then he will know where Saint is too?
It’s a long shot, but I’ll try anything.
“Fine then. Lead the way.” I wait for him to turn around so I can hide the paring knife in my pocket, but he reads me loud and clear. Without a choice, I move forward, and he only begins to walk when we are side by side.
I’m regretful I left the switchblade behind.
I have no idea where he’s taking me, but it’s evident wherever Alek is, he isn’t here because he leads me toward the garage. A black SUV waits for us. He opens the door and shoves me into the back seat.
“Hey!” I yell, shuffling over as he slides in after me. He remains unaffected as he tells the driver where to go.
We pull out into the dead of night, which is when I take note of the time. It’s after eleven p.m.
“Where are we going?” I ask, but it’s in vain as I’m ignored. The driver turns up the stereo while the psycho beside me taps away on his phone.
Sighing, I wonder if I can pull on the handle without detection. Yes, I may fall to my death, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
But he beats me to it. “Don’t even think about it. The child lock is on. Seems appropriate.”
“What’s your problem?” I snap, glaring at yet another captor of mine.
“I have no problem. I just don’t like you.”
“I’m sorry,” I sarcastically quip. “Have we met?”
“Believe me, I’ve tried to keep our interactions to a minimum. But when Alek calls…”
“Then what beef could you possibly have with me? I’m sorry if Zoey was your friend, but it’s not my fault she’s gone.”
“Enough talking!” he says in a raised voice. “This is all your fault. Zoey was discarded and punished horribly because of you. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“And I deserve this?” I question, spreading my arms out wide. “I don’t want to be here.”
“That’s what they all say,” he mutters, turning to look out the window. “But you’re different. Alek allows you this…freedom, and I don’t understand why.”
“Freedom?” I scoff, unable to contain my anger. “Is this what you call freedom? Being here against my own will? I will happily, happily leave. Just give me an out and I’m gone.”
He doesn’t entertain me further. We travel the rest of the journey in silence.
I’ve become accustomed to traveling in the darkness. Like a thief in the night, that’s how I live my life these days. We drive out of the city and into a clearly upperclass neighborhood. My palms begin to sweat. Why does Alek want me to meet him out here? I’m hardly dressed for a late-night gathering.
If we are to reach our destination soon, I need to act now. “What’s the problem? Now that Zoey’s free of Alek, you can visit her anytime you like,” I say to the man whose name I still don’t know.
He tenses when he hears me utter her name. “I don’t know where she is because, thanks to you, Alek threw her out like some street whore. Does that bother you in the slightest?”
Damn, there goes that idea. I thought he may have disclosed her location.
Putting my game face on, I shrug as I can’t draw attention to my interest in Saint. “No. She can go to hell for all I care. She’s the reason I’
m here. Maybe if she wasn’t such a crazy bitch, Alek would have kept her around.”
I hear the whack before I feel the stinging pain in my cheek.
“Don’t you ever speak that way about her again!”
I move my jaw from side to side as I cradle my face. How dare this motherfucker put his hands on me.
Without thought, I cup my hand and jab him in the throat. A strangled wheeze leaves him as I’ve caught him unaware. Saint’s training has come in handy.
Even though he gasps, face turning a deep crimson, he reaches out, ready to throttle me, but I’m prepared and am about to strike out again.
“Touch me again. I dare you,” I challenge, primed on gouging out his eyeballs.
“Max!” the driver exclaims, looking at us in the rearview mirror in horror. His warning settles the war—for now.
No matter how much I am despised, Alek’s men know better than to lay their hands on me. But it seems Max’s affection for Zoey knows no bounds. And I can use that.
My assailant, Max, has just become a pawn. He doesn’t know where Zoey is, but I may be able to find out from Sara if Saint reveals where they are. Just what would he do for this piece of information?
But now is not the time to barter with him because when a tall steel double gate slowly opens, it seems I’ve reached my destination. I look from left to right as this mansion has to belong to someone of importance.
The gardens are green and vast, and the imposing house looms in the distance. To anyone else looking in, they’d be impressed with what they see, but to me, I just see yet another jail. The driver parks the car and speaks to Max in Russian.
“Let’s go.” Max is still breathless, thanks to me punching him in the throat, but he grips my bicep and drags me out of the car.
“Whose house is this?” My question remains unanswered. He continues hauling me around until we reach the front door. It opens without him ringing the doorbell.
The man who stands before me reveals I am in so much trouble.
“Ah, you made it.” Oscar stands in the doorway, wearing a red velvet robe and holding a cognac glass. He looks like a fucking cliché.
On instinct, I shrink back, desperate to flee, but Max still grasps my arm in a punishing grip. I’m not going anywhere.
“Is Alek inside?”
Oscar hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I can’t shake the feeling that Alek has no idea that I’m here. “Let me go.” I wiggle against Max, but the action spurs Oscar to move from the doorway, granting us entry.
I’m dragged into what I presume is Oscar’s home, struggling every step of the way. Both men ignore me and chat among themselves. I need a weapon. Or an exit. Anything. I examine my surroundings, but everything passes me by in a blur as Max continues to manhandle me.
When we venture down a long hallway, I dig my heels into the carpet, not liking the sudden devious vibe. Oscar opens a door to what looks to be a dining room. However, I have the sneaking suspicion we’re not here for food.
No one else is present inside, alerting Max to what I already know. “Where is Alek? You said he’d be here.”
Oscar smirks, the sight not at all pleasant. “I did?”
Max’s face falls as he knows his oversight will cost him. He attempts to reach into his pocket for his cell, I assume, but two men appear out of nowhere and stop him. Now he’s the one to be manhandled as they drag him from the room, kicking and screaming.
When they shut the door, I rub over my arm where my flesh stings from Max’s fingers digging into me and look around. A large table holds a silver candelabra burning candles brightly, setting a mood which turns my stomach.
“I’m sorry for all the mystery, but Alek wouldn’t let you out of his sight. I thought we could get to know one another without any distractions.” Oscar finishes his drink and places it onto the mantel.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely curious.
He gestures for me to take a seat. But I’d rather stand.
“Something about you intrigues so many. Alek. Saint.” I’m unable to hide my response when he says his name, and Oscar reads it instantly.
He circles me, just as a shark would of their prey. “The moment I saw you two together, I knew he felt something for you that I didn’t think he was capable of ever experiencing.”
“Excuse me?” There is no need for him to explain who he speaks of.
“He watched your every move. You moved. He moved. He was drawn to you like a moth to a flame,” he explains, coming to a stop in front of me. “He cares for you.”
My chest rises and falls, betraying my nerves.
“So I need to know what makes you special.”
I’m so sick of hearing this. “I’m not special. I’m just me.”
Oscar shakes his head slowly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “I need to find that out myself.”
In a quivering breath, I ask, “How?”
When he takes two steps back and snaps his fingers, I know I’m about to regret my question. The door opens, and a man and woman, who I’ve never seen before, enter. They are both absolutely breathtaking.
The man looks like a Greek god and the woman a blond goddess. The man only wears what I can describe as baseball pants, and they don’t leave much to the imagination. The woman wears a sheer sarong dress tied around her neck. The transparent material reveals she’s naked beneath.
Instantly, I turn my cheek, embarrassed to be looking at them when so scantily dressed. I can’t imagine they enjoy being paraded around half naked this way. However, it’s a different story for Oscar.
“Please, there is no judgment here,” he says, gently coaxing me to look at them. “This is Dominic and Ingrid.”
Those names caused Alek to freeze. At the time, I remember wondering who these people were, but now that I’ve met them, they are no doubt Oscar’s playthings. Just as I am Alek’s.
Still, the question remains…why am I here?
“What do you think of them?” Oscar asks, sweeping his hand out toward them.
They stand motionless with their eyes straight ahead.
“They look terrified,” I reply, stating fact. I may be bound to Alek, but I owe nothing to this asshole.
“Terrified?” he questions, cocking his head to the side. “I doubt that. How about we ask them? Ingrid, come.”
Without hesitation, Ingrid walks over to Oscar, head bowed as she awaits further command.
“Is it true? Are you terrified?”
Ingrid slowly shakes her head, but it’s clear she’s lying.
“You see, you heard it yourself. No one is terrified.” Oscar grins, daring me to challenge him. “I’m not sure what household Alek runs, but here, we’re all friends. Aren’t we?”
“Yes, sir,” both Dominic and Ingrid mumble.
Sickened, I close my eyes, needing a moment.
“Why am I here?” I’m done with the small talk. If there is a point of me being here, I’d rather he put me out of my misery now.
Oscar pats his leg, as a master would to a dog, motioning for Ingrid to drop to her knees. “I told you, I want to know your worth.”
As he pats Ingrid’s head, I glare furiously, so sick of these people thinking they have any right to degrade another human being. “Well, let’s get it over with then.”
Oscar’s lips twitch. “Dominic, I want you to tell me if she’s as sweet as she looks.”
Time stands still, and my bravado suddenly fizzles.
Dominic meets my eyes with nothing but regret as he steps to command.
Instantly, I back up, feeling around for a weapon, but it’s useless. “What are you doing?”
Oscar stands on the sidelines with Ingrid at his feet as he watches his sick dreams come to life.
“No, please don’t,” I beg Dominic, but he’s just as much a prisoner as I am. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because Alek owes me,” Oscar replies. “And you have what I want.”
Dominic stalks me as I da
nce around the table, pushing chairs in his way, hoping it’ll buy me some time. “What do I have?” I exclaim, sick and tired of these games. “I have nothing!”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You have the one thing I want and can’t have.”
The game of cat and mouse ends as Dominic lunges for me and grips my wrist, dragging me toward him. “No!” I cry, thrashing wildly. I try to use my self-defense training, but Dominic is strong, and I’m panicking, forgetting everything Saint taught me. “Whatever it is, you can have it!”
Oscar clucks his tongue, a look of genuine loss passing over him. “I wish that were true.”
“What is it?” I am hysterical because when Dominic clears the table with his forearm, sending china crashing to the floor, I know there is no escape this time. No matter how hard I fight him, I’m doomed. He throws me onto the hard surface, fumbling with my zipper as I desperately try to slap, punch, and kick him. I get in one punch, but he barely feels it.
The fight in me dies when Oscar reveals why we’re here. “Saint. I want him, but I can’t have him… because of you.”
“He isn’t mine to give!” I exclaim, kicking and flaying my arms to keep Dominic off me. But he continues to pin me to the table with ease.
“You’re right, but maybe he’ll change his mind with you gone.”
“You’re fucking crazy!” I spit, turning my face to look at Oscar. “You can’t buy people’s love. You earn it. But I wouldn’t expect a monster like you to understand that! So do what you will. It won’t change the fact that you’re right.” I stop fighting, narrowing my eyes. “You can’t have him…because he’s mine. And he always will be.”
Oscar’s mouth parts in utter shock as I’ve just confirmed his suspicions. But I don’t care. He’s about to destroy me anyway. So this is my final fuck you.
I stare up at the ceiling as Dominic yanks off my jeans. My underwear is next to go. I’m lax, detached from my body as he removes my tank. When he removes my bra, he lowers his body down onto mine and whispers a hollowed, “Sorry,” into my ear.
But I understand. It’s either him or me.
“Fuck her,” Oscar demands, knowing how humiliating this is for me, seeing as my first time will be with a stranger as I’m pinned down.
