Art of Seduction

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Art of Seduction Page 2

by Monique Orgeron


  Without a second thought, I sit as ordered.

  She self-righteously continues. “You stated you didn’t like me. That was an attack without knowing what direction this would lead – in poor taste, I might add. You see, your words didn’t affect me, because you did it without thinking. You tried to show power without having any. What did you think I was going to do, cry?” She lets out a small laugh and continues. “Words, especially yours, are not sharp enough to do any damage. File your teeth, little girl. I bite, and when I do, I go in for the kill. Scared yet?”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “Knowledge.”

  “What kind of knowledge can you possibly want from somebody like me?”

  “See, you might like me after all, little girl. Tell me, are you a virgin?”

  Shocked, I say, “I…I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”

  “Ah, but it is. I will teach you; however, I never do anything for nothing.”

  I return her stare and ask, “Again, what do you want from me?”

  “Simple, I want a daughter-in-law.”

  With a chuckle, I say, “What? You can’t be serious? I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but –”

  “Hush, little one, the games I play are to win. You can either stay here or come with me. I can promise you that I can offer so much more than what you already have. Are you interested?”

  I look straight at her, waiting to see if I notice any signs that she’s pulling my strings. I keep an eye out for any loose screws she might have, yet I see none; she looks dead serious.

  Curious, I say, “Tell me more.”

  “Now I see I have your attention. Answer my question, I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, dear. Are you a virgin?”

  I surprise myself by answering, “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. Let’s begin.”

  3

  Fallon

  My eyes flow down to her turning her delicate bracelet around her wrist as she continues. “I have three sons who were born to be powerful, but it takes a woman to lead them. I led their father, and you will lead one of them.”

  I’m in shock. This can’t be real. “I don’t understand, I am a nobody to people like you. I’m sure there is someone more suited for your sons.”

  “I don’t want a child who was raised to be a trophy wife. I want someone strong. I want someone who knows how to fight and who’s not afraid of getting dirty. Trust me, there will come a point when you will need to fight, and get dirty doing it. I have one son in particular that I’m interested in you for. He is my eldest, my pride and joy. My son will need a strong woman by his side for what I have in store for him. He will be a leader of many and will be powerful beyond measure. So, you see, a meek woman simply will not do.”

  “What does he think about all this? I mean does he really need his mother to find him a woman?”

  “No, no he doesn’t and he will never know about this.”

  “You mean he has no knowledge that you are looking to find him a wife?”

  “No! My son is a very good-looking man, but he is a man and I need to make sure he makes the right decision in picking a bride.”

  “Okay, so, what if…your son doesn’t like me?”

  “Don’t worry, by the time I’m finished with you, he will desire you more than any other woman in the world. I promise.”

  I straighten my stance. “Okay, say he does like me and we do marry...won’t I just be his property? How does that get me the power I want?”

  “Yes, you will belong to him, but he will belong to you, too, and that, my dear, is power.”

  “How?”

  “As you can see, dear, you have a lot to learn. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘Behind every good man, there is a great woman’?” I nod as she continues. “Maybe you’ve heard about how the man is the head of the family? The man may be the head of the family, but the woman is the neck. As his neck, you can turn his head in any direction you want; hence, making you very powerful indeed.”

  I question, “Why would you want to do this to your son? Why do you want to control him?”

  “I’ve had control over all of them their whole lives. I have taught them everything. I was not a woman who handed her children off. I raised my sons, taught them everything, made every opportunity for them. I held this family together when their father was not the man they needed him to be. He was weak, but I, I was the strong one. He didn’t want this life, so I used him and took what was needed.”

  “Why?”

  “For my future, for my children’s future, and for your future. But now the time has come where they need a woman, not a mother. I will be behind the scenes. See, they will always have me in their lives, one way or another. You and I will become allies, and in return we will grow this family, ensuring our descendants will have everyone on their knees, bending to our will, not the other way around.” She then pauses and looks straight at me. “I have done my fair share of bending on my knees, and in one way I am sure you have, too. Haven’t you?” With a smile, she continues. “We know what it’s like to be poor, to struggle. A long time ago, I decided to change my life for no one else but me. I didn’t think about having children. In some ways, having a child made me soft; not in the conventional way, but it did make me more vulnerable, easier to hurt. So, I had to think of a way to harden myself again. I had to make them strong like me. In a way, if I would have had daughters, it would have been easier. Girls can be smarter, more cunning than a lot of men. I would have made them the right connections, with the right men. Instead, I have sons and I need to find the right women for all of them. Some debutante girl who has never had to struggle in her life will not do. My boys need fierce women. Are you ready to be a fierce woman?”

  I think before I respond, almost as if she has already taught me to think before speaking. I feel like being under this woman’s thumb, she means to break me. I can see it in her eyes, but I can also see she plans on building me back up. How is she even so sure this will work? Am I enough for what she has planned? Could he really fall in love with me? What’s love anyway? I’ve never seen it or experienced it, and frankly, I don’t want to. I can handle whatever comes my way as long as my heart never gets involved. Can I really do this? Do I have any other choice? I’m not in the best place to be picky, but I am free. It could be possible for me to have a better life. But at what cost?

  I answer simply with a whisper. “Yes, but what about love?”

  “I don’t care about love child. This is about something greater.”

  After thinking it over again, I look back at her and tell her my answer. “I’ll go with you.”

  The woman is unmoving, reflecting on my answer. She then smiles and says, “Good.”

  I can’t believe I am going to do this. I realize I don’t even know who she is, or her family.

  “What’s your name?”

  She looks shocked, as if she can’t believe I don’t know who she is. She answers, “Catherine…Catherine Stern.”

  I start to freak out. The Stern family is feared. They are known for being from old money, and for having different connections in politics. Everyone in the city knows they are more like a mafia family.

  “Did you say Stern? As in the Stern family?”

  She stands and starts to walk away. “Is there any other Stern family?” She speaks with a louder voice. “Now, let’s go. You won’t be back, if you’re smart. Your new life begins tonight.”

  4

  Fallon

  That night as we exit the diner, a black town car pulls up to the curb. The large man I saw talking to Earl comes around to open the back door, introduces himself to me as Vin and then tells me to get in. As we’re driven to my tiny apartment, it dawns on me I wasn’t ever asked where I live. I feel my intuitions were right; I was being watched. Once we arrive, she tells me only to get the things that truly mean something to me; as for as the rest, it is unnecessary. Everything I will need will be furnished by her from now
on. With a small laundry basket of things in my arm and a click of the door closing behind me, I leave my old life behind and start anew.

  Catherine sets me up in an upscale apartment. I find it a more than generous start to our relationship. The apartment has an open floor plan, all done in light colors. There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It’s the view of the river that has me in awe; it’s incredible, more than I ever expected. It’s hard to imagine me living here. It’s a far cry from the crappy place I grew up in.

  First thing after showing me where I would be staying, she sits in a chair and asks me to strip down to show her my body. I’m shocked; I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

  I try to argue, telling her that I refuse. I mention how absurd it is to be asked to do something like this. But I fail in my argument. I begin to see the anger in her facial expression from my reluctance. She claims she needs to see what she’s working with, since my old jeans, baggy shirt, and cardigan give nothing away. She also tells me our relationship and end goal will never work if I don’t listen and follow her instructions to the tee. Right then, I decide there is no going back.

  Embarrassment runs through me as I take off layer after layer, waiting for her scrutiny. My mind spirals as I wonder what she’s thinking as she gawks at me. Is she thinking about what her son would think? This whole situation is warped. I can’t fathom anyone having to deal with this. Catherine’s eyes rake over my body from head to toe, sending shivers through me. Did I make the wrong choice to come?

  After a few minutes, she lifts her eyes and gives me a gentle smile. She then looks at me and says, “Beautiful.”

  I lose all speech. I’ve never been appraised this way. She seems to appreciate my curves, as she compliments me on something I have always tried to hide from everyone.

  She then asks, “Why have you been hiding away under all those clothes? Did you not want to be desired?” Pausing, she gives me a confused look.

  Should I tell her? How do you explain that I hated unwanted eyes all over me?

  “Never mind, don’t answer that. I understand; it was a way of protecting yourself, sheltering you from the desire of others, to survive. All that changes now. You will be desired from now on. You will be protected by me, and then my son. He will look at you and see all your beauty. He will never let another man touch you. Do you understand?”

  With my head down, I listen as she says all these things to me. I quickly realize I do want that, all of it. So, I lift my face to her and answer with great reverie, “Yes.”

  The next few months are like a whirlwind. During that time, she has clothes delivered to my apartment. There is a chef in and out of my kitchen, who comes to cook for me, as well as teach me how to cook. Catherine says it’s unlikely I will ever have to cook, but it is something everyone should know how to do. I am given an etiquette coach who teaches me how to walk in heels, sit properly, and eat with grace at social gatherings. This is a challenge, to say the least. I can’t believe how many utensils and plates it takes to have a civil and proper meal. She also has a trainer come in every other day to do cardio, yoga, and Pilates. She says it’s necessary for me to be in shape. She says if she knows her boys at all, I will need the stamina.

  Then come the stylists. They come to teach me how to dress, about different brands of clothing, and which styles look best on me. They are also there to teach me what is acceptable to certain functions. I enjoy it, but then the other types of stylists come in, the ones who cut and color my hair.

  They then move on to the removal of my hair on my brows and my “shaggy carpet”, as they call it. There is no hair left anywhere on my body. I am mortified. By the time they are all finished, I am utter perfection. My hair remains dark, but now it is glazed to shine, and my skin is glowing. I barely recognize myself.

  Early into my new life, Catherine comes back to the apartment with a professor. He is to teach me all things academic. Catherine claims street smarts are most important for being able to read and manipulate people. Book smarts, however, are necessary to keep my future husband interested and to help in social circles. Intelligence is the key to success, no matter where it may be required, such as the streets, boardroom, glamorous balls, or even in the bedroom. A man’s mistress is allowed the luxury of ignorance, but never a wife.

  Professor Stanley Givens is an older gentleman, not overly attractive, but not ugly. Stately, I would say. He has salt and pepper hair around the sides, and he wears thick black glasses. He is to come every day until I am ready, and he becomes a thorn in my side. Education was never something I worried about.

  I finally get around to asking, “Catherine, when will I be ready, and how long before I meet your son?”

  Catherine laughs and says, “You, my dear, are far too naïve and young for my son. It will take time to prepare you. All in due time. Put forth the effort, and it will all be worth it.”

  She leaves after that, and I don’t see her for some time.

  During the rest of the year, she visits about twice a month to get updates on my progress.

  As of today, I continually ask her when I will be ready. She shakes her head says, “Patience, my dear, is a virtue you are learning every day. Remember, all in due time.”

  Still baffled, I ask for more information. “What’s your son’s name? I know you said he was good looking, but tell me something a little more about him?”

  Still, she denies me any more information, although she seems very pleased with all my progress; I guess just not enough to divulge more.

  Catherine says she had a surprise for me for my nineteenth birthday. A trip to gain culture. I am excited for the change of scenery. I’m never allowed much time to venture around, especially not without my guard Vin. He follows me around everywhere. He’s unusually large, muscular, and he is so quiet, almost as if he’s not allowed to get to know me. I have no idea where Catherine plans on taking me, and I don’t care. A trip anywhere is exactly what I need.

  On my birthday, Catherine picks me up in a limo that takes us to a private airstrip, where a private jet waits to take us to Paris. I have never been out of the state; now here I am flying to another country. I am beyond thrilled, but scared since I have never flown. Catherine watches as my panic rises, but she remains stoic, not offering any comfort. Mary, our flight attendant, helps calm me till I am put at ease. I am not overly surprised that Catherine didn’t offer me any comfort. She’s a hard woman, and she treats me as if I’m a business transaction. However, I am surprised hours later when we are about to land, she sits next to me and holds my hand without saying a word.

  As we drive through the city at night, the lights that are lighting up the city are spectacular. I feel like I’m dreaming. As my excitement rises, Catherine reminds me this is the dream I will now live in. She says from now on I must learn to be socially accepted. That alone terrifies me. How will I be able to hold my own amongst people who lead this kind of life?

  We stay at the Shangri-La Hotel, in the penthouse of course. Where we have a beautiful, perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Before I can express my appreciation for this vacation, Catherine tells me to go change in my private room. She says there will be a gown and accessories waiting for me. My goodness, she’s right; everything, like she said, is laid out on my bed. I’ve never seen anything like my dress before, an Oscar de la Renta, champagne colored dress. As the dress moves, it almost looks like liquid moving with my body. It is sleeveless and long to the ground. She has a stylist come in and finish me off. Later, Catherine comes from out of her room, looking stunning.

  She gazes at me with appreciation. “You will make my son a beautiful bride one day!”

  I respond with a shy, “Thank you.”

  In the car, Catherine then explains we will be going to the opera. Then she says, “Listen, Fallon, it’s time for our lessons to begin. Are you ready?”

  “Yes!”

  “Lesson one is about how to hold yourself up to the stares and scrutiny. Always walk with grace, w
alk like you own the room. Never cower or shy away from anyone’s gaze. It shows confidence, which equals strength. You are not below anyone there, do you hear me, girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Second, that face and that body are meant to be seen. They are no longer allowed to be covered. They’re yours, no one else’s. Your body is to be treated with respect. You have worked hard for it, and it shows. Learn to use it to your advantage. You will show touches of yourself here and there. Just enough to pique a man’s interest. It is all about the mystery; the fantasy. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because we’re here.”

  Pulling up to the opera house, I start to get scared. People are everywhere, all dressed to the nines. As Catherine and I exit the limo, eyes immediately land upon us. I follow Catherine’s lead. As we stroll to our balcony seats, I become so nervous with all the attention we were receiving. But I hold my head up high, just like I was instructed.

  As we are seated, she speaks again as she gestures around our surroundings.

  “Culture surrounds us; soak it in, digest it. Becoming fully aware of your surroundings is always beneficial to one’s wit. Culture gives you class. Class is necessary to learn. No one wants to deal with a person who is not well-rounded. Now, when these lights turn low, your first lesson on seduction will begin. Are you ready?”

 

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