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  “Any questions?” His right hand grazed my shoulder gently prodding me toward the couch. With no other option but to listen to his crazy talk, I sat.

  “Questions.” I huffed. “Why can’t I have access to the outside world? You do realize this is kidnapping, right?”

  Nikolai pressed his lips together like he was fighting not to laugh. “Kidnapping would mean you were a mere child I’d lured here under false pretenses. Need I remind you, you spent the better part of your year calling my offices begging—”

  “I didn’t beg.”

  “—begging…” Brushing off my protest like an insignificant insect, he continued. “… for one interview, for ten minutes of my time, at first I believe you asked for an hour but when that wouldn’t work you were willing to meet me for twenty minutes, fifteen, finally ten, and I think the last phone call bordered on needing a restraining order when you threatened my secretary.”

  Heat rushed into my face. “Well, I wasn’t sure she was giving you my messages.”

  “She was.”

  Awkward. I chewed my lipstick—or what was left of it—from my lower lip. “So you’re saying that I’m here by choice.”

  “Was it your choice to come to the office this afternoon?”

  “Yes but—”

  “And was it your choice to ask for an interview?”

  “Yes.” I gritted my teeth. “But had I known it would be you owning me, not allowing me to question you, then I would have said no.”

  He tilted his head to the side, his dark brown eyes going completely black. “That’s a lie.”

  “So now I’m a liar?”

  “Yes.” He said it so simply, so confidently, that I wanted to strangle him. “You would have been too curious to turn me down.”

  “Hah, curiosity killed the cat.” I made a cutting motion across my throat.

  His eyes narrowed in on my neck, as if watching the very pulse that was starting to speed up again. “You have beautiful skin… it’s very… soft isn’t it?” Lean fingers reached out and tapped the rhythm of my pulse against my neck. “Hmm…”

  “Um.” My lips were trembling in anticipation of more touching. “About the job.”

  “It’s yours,” he whispered, still not taking his eyes from my neck.

  “Gee thanks, because that’s what I came here for, a job where I’m locked away from the Internet, can’t make any phone calls or watch Netflix, oh, and am apparently prevented from engaging in any sort of sexual relationship.”

  His hand jerked back. “So that’s what this is about?”

  “Yes,” I said through clenched teeth. “Being locked up in solitary doesn’t piss me off, but not being able to have sex does.” The asshole was insufferable!

  Nostrils flaring, he turned away. “It’s impossible.”

  “What is?”

  “A relationship.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down that gorgeous neck of his. I really needed to stop staring. He was the enemy—not a friend.

  I think in those early moments I recognized things that should have given me warning. The way he stood, the way he touched me, even his eyes. My subconscious had been warning me, but I was too horrified at my circumstances to listen.

  Until it was too late.

  “The pay is extravagant.” He licked his lips. “Half a million.”

  “A year?” I croaked out. I’d been surrounded by money my whole life, but money, as my father said, had to be earned, it wasn’t freely given. Blood money above all else, was always earned.

  “No.” Nikolai stood. “A month.”

  “What?” I jumped to my feet. “Half a million a month? What the heck do you have me doing? Burying bodies!”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Would you? For half a million a month?”

  “No.” Yes, probably, damn it!

  “Another lie.” He angled his head in the other direction. “Come now, aren’t we close enough that you can at least be honest about what makes you tick…?” He moved until he was chest to chest with me, until there was maybe an inch of space between our lips. I fought the urge to lean. He smelled so good and something about him, maybe it was just his indifference, made me want to pick apart all his pieces.

  See? I was back at the puzzle scenario.

  “I barely know you,” I said in a strained voice.

  “Would you like to?” His eyes hooded.

  “If you let me go… I’ll come back to work every day. I swear, just let me have some sort of freedom and—”

  “The contract is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. You either agree or…” His features inscrutable, he offered a weak half-shrug.

  “Or?” I crossed my arms, taking a step back. “You kill me and bury my body?”

  “You paying me half a million?” he fired back with a smile that actually managed to reach his eyes. “Everyone has a price, Maya.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do.” He nodded, and his smile dwindled a bit. “Your price was an interview, and look how generous I’m being… giving you a year in my presence.”

  “So now I’m supposed to say thank you?”

  “It would only be polite.” He smirked. “But I’m a patient man. I’ll wait until you say the words.”

  “I never will.”

  “Lie after lie… Will you never learn?”

  “What are you, a personal lie detector?”

  His eyes drank me in for a few seconds before he whispered, “I know people.”

  A shiver rippled through me but I managed to suppress it. “At least give me Internet.”

  “I’ll tell you what…” He crossed his arms, mimicking me. “I’ll give you Internet… after you’ve worked for a few days and I find your work acceptable.”

  “And if it’s not.”

  “Then we’re back to burying bodies, aren’t we?” Another smile lifted his lips. That meant he was joking, right?

  “Okay.”

  “Fabulous.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, go get dressed.”

  “I am dressed.”

  “Work.” He said in an ‘all business’ manner, “Will start this evening, only because I don’t have all week to train you. I need to be in Chicago Friday.”

  “You get to go to Chicago while I sit in solitary confinement?”

  “Would it make you happy if I gave you access to the library?”

  “Library?” I perked up.

  “You love the classics, am I right?”

  “Stop being creepy.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.”

  “To your face, probably not.”

  “I like you.”

  Schooling my expression, I leveled a cool stare on him and forced calm into my voice, even though I was ready to lose my sanity. “Well the feeling’s not mutual.”

  He smirked. “Believe me, it will be. Now, go get dressed. The closet in the master bedroom should have adequate clothing. Wear all black and please try not to take too long, we don’t want to be late.”

  “You’re the boss. It’s impossible to be late.”

  “Maya,” he snapped. “Get dressed. Now.”

  Was I getting to him? A little thrill shot through me at the possibility. “Say please.”

  “I haven’t uttered that word in ten years.”

  “Try.”

  With a long sigh he looked away and murmured. “Please.”

  “Better.”

  He pointed down the hall. “Go.”

  “Fine.” I shuffled off into the general direction of the master bedroom and quickly found an outfit that would work. Black leggings, a long black sweater, and black boots.

  Several masks lined the wall of my closet, the type that might be worn at a masquerade. Did that mean he hosted parties up here? Or was he thinking I’d somehow put on a mask, too? Well, he was in for one hell of a fight because I wasn’t dressing up like it was Halloween in order to do a job I didn’t even want. I accidentl
y knocked one of the masks off the wall as I walked by. With a curse I bent down and picked one up. There was something so familiar about the white, something so… red. It made absolutely no sense but it was almost like I could see blood staining it. With a shake of my head, I stood, placing it back on the wall and put on my shoes.

  Ten minutes later I stomped out of the bedroom and did a little circle in front of him. “This work?”

  “It will.” His eyes devoured me. “I believe you’ll do just fine. Remember, no talking.”

  “At all?”

  “To the patients.”

  “Patients.” I froze. “Like real patients.”

  “No, dead ones.”

  I laughed.

  He didn’t.

  “Let’s go.” His jaw made a clicking noise as he clenched it and led me toward the door. “We don’t want to be late for our first appointment.”

  Downtown Seattle

  Six hours later

  “Do you repent?” The air crackled with excitement as the knife flickered in the moonlight streaming through the windows. “Answer me!”

  But she couldn’t—answer at least, her muscles were completely useless thanks to the drugs in her system.

  “No?” The knife sliced through the air. “Shall I help you repent?”

  A lone tear trailed down the woman’s cheek, mixing with the blood from the cut in her lip.

  “Fine.” The knife met skin.

  It pierced.

  The blood was red. Pure.

  And all was right in the world once more.

  The body cuts were perfect, the organs removed as if the killer has the gift of a surgeon. Police are currently working hand in hand with all the local hospitals. –The Seattle Tribune

  “YOU’RE NOT WEARING BLACK,” I BLURTED once we were in the parking garage, my eyes scanning over the crisp white button up and the same black slacks he’d worn to our initial meeting.

  “How very intuitive of you, Maya.” Nikolai mused placing his hand on my lower back.

  “Ass.”

  His lips twitched.

  At least he had somewhat of a sense of humor.

  “Get in.” He opened the door to a black Audi A8. I slid in to the leather seat and looked around. The car seemed heavier than normal sedans or sports cars. I’d always loved Audi’s but this one wasn’t like others I’d seen on the road.

  Curiosity got the best of me, when Nikolai got in and turned the key I asked. “What kind of Audi is this?”

  “A safe one,” he said with a simple shrug, his lips pressing together in a firm line. “Throw a grenade at it and we’d walk away without a scratch.”

  “You uh, get grenades thrown at you often?”

  “One can never be too careful.”

  “Hmm.” I leaned back and crossed my arms as classical music floated through the car. “So, the location of our first appointment.”

  “A simple office building—nothing special.”

  “Right.” I started nervously cracking my knuckles.

  “Don’t.” His teeth clenched as he placed a solid warm hand across mine. “Just… don’t, not now.”

  “Um, okay.” His hand hadn’t left mine. “Sorry.”

  “You should be,” he snapped then jerked away from me like the feel of my skin somehow offended him.

  Right. So I was back at the crazy theory.

  We drove the rest of the way in complete silence—except for the violin music in the background. It seemed melodramatic. Driving through downtown Seattle with a billionaire in a car that could withstand World War Three, only to get trained for my new job.

  Where I had no rights as a human being.

  Yeah I was a bad romance novel waiting to happen.

  He stopped the car at Pier 44 and turned off the engine. “Shall we?”

  Nikolai didn’t wait for me to answer, simply got out of the car. Dumbly, I followed. What other option did I have?

  He was still dressed in his tight white button up and black pants. Why was it that I had to change and he didn’t? The salty wet air stung my nostrils as we walked down the pier and finally stopped in front of a red door.

  I looked around while he pulled out a key and shoved it in the lock. What could a man like him possibly be doing on the pier? In the dead of night? And why did he need my help?

  “Do not speak.” He hissed before grabbing my elbow and jerking me through the entrance. He kept his arm wrapped around me. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous I’d cut and run, or because it was so freaking cold in that place it could have been a freezer.

  I shivered.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he whispered across my ear.

  “But don’t I want to,” I muttered under my breath.

  His teeth flashed in what I assumed was a smile—I didn’t want to think he was gnashing his teeth at me so early on in our working relationship. Maybe I was trying to stay positive.

  I shivered again and crossed my arms, trying to keep my body heat from evaporating into whatever hellish nightmare I’d just walked into.

  Nikolai walked toward one of the walls and flipped a switch.

  The lights flickered on one by one, reminding me of those horror movies where the buzzing of the lights being on is almost as freaky as the lights being off.

  Everywhere I looked was white.

  White marble floors.

  White couches.

  And a white receptionist desk with a red J hanging down the front. If I wasn’t so freaked out, I’d probably think everything looked modern and cool, not exactly inviting but not terrifying either.

  Magazines littered the coffee table in the middle of the room, and a large bay window overlooked the Sound.

  “Clinical,” I muttered under my breath.

  The sound of a phone ringing had me nearly colliding with the nearest couch and toppling over backward.

  “Phone,” Nikolai said in an amused voice. “It’s just a phone Maya.”

  I managed to croak out a weak, “yeah.” But was anything as it seemed with him? No, not at all, so excuse me for freaking out over the phone ringing.

  “Yes.” He answered on the second ring, his gaze trained on the floor. He checked his watch then motioned for me to approach the receptionist desk. “No, no that should work out just fine, I have a new… employee.” His eyes found mine.

  I wasn’t so sure I liked the way he said employee, like I was disposable.

  Or edible.

  He licked his lips, eying me up and down before glancing back at the floor again. “Give me twenty minutes, then the usual.”

  He hung up the phone and swore.

  “Problem in crazy land?” I asked sweetly.

  “I don’t believe the contract you signed this afternoon said anything about sarcasm. Or speaking.”

  “Maybe you should have put that in then before I signed on the dotted line… sir.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Unfortunate….”

  “What is?”

  “That you don’t mean that term of respect the way it should be meant… I could get used to it.”

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Turn.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Around.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and twisted my body toward a white door with two windows. “I have exactly eighteen and a half minutes to teach you the basics before we have our first patient.”

  “I’m seeing real patients?”

  Nikolai didn’t answer. I’d begun to notice that about him. If he didn’t want to answer he simply… refused to speak, as if he didn’t owe me anything.

  He opened the door leading to the hallway and ushered me through, the lights flickered on all by themselves, lighting up rooms on either side of me. Each of them looked sterile enough that I could probably lick the floors and still be safer than eating while typing on my laptop.

  “And behind door number one,” Nikolai whispered in my ear, causing a chill to run down both my arms.

  He pushed t
he door open it made a suction noise and then closed behind us. He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck then pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

  I gulped and tried to stop the sudden panic that sliced through me, “Are we, examining someone?”

  He paused, his hands hovering over the sink and table facing the corner. “It would be prudent for you to remember the terms of the contract, Maya.”

  Right. No questions, or talking.

  “Do I need gloves?”

  “Is that still a question? Also, if you keep talking, I may remove your tongue, you’ve been given fair warning.”

  Did he just say he was going to cut my tongue out? Holy shit, he really was crazy! Did the medical journals know this? Society? People of earth? How did he hide this side of him? I was full on panicking at that moment.

  Instead of bossing me around like I figured he’d do, he clapped his hands twice, powder flying off his gloves, more violin music began to come through an unseen sound system.

  To be completely honest it was creepy.

  Not soothing. Kind of like the music they play in the elevator in hopes to make you forget that you could plummet to your death at any point.

  I leaned against the wall and watched him pull out metal instruments. Two scalpels, which made me think surgery. It killed me not asking, and when he pulled out a respirator and grabbed an IV bag, my hands began to shake against my body.

  What exactly where we doing? Performing surgery? And in what world was I even close to being adequately capable of doing anything like that? I was studying diseases, but not in the literal sense where I cut up bodies and peered inside—that was a different major, a different type of person.

  Books. I liked books.

  Hands on experience? No, thank you.

  “You will only aid me for a few minutes at a time. When I ask you to leave, you will walk out the door. Shut it behind you and don’t look back. You don’t ask questions. When the phone rings again, answer it and let him know my projected finish time in order to bring in the new patient. You’ll know my projected finish time because I’ll text it to the phone I gave you earlier this afternoon.”

  Blood roared in my ears. So much information yet none of it connected or made sense.