Chapter 3

• An arm of steel held me to a white shirt, the top buttons opened carelessly to reveal a perfectly muscled chest of curling, bristling grey hair.
• I was still shaking as the man spoke, in a growl, addressing someone beside him,
• “Who the f*ck is this little tramp? Who allowed a juvenile wh*re into my Fight club?’
• His cold eyes held contempt although he was holding me up, the hand on me like a vice. He had a shock of thick greying hair, silver at the temples and he carried an air of authority, about him. An aura of menace.
• I straightened, hackles rising.
• After the rough mauling I had just received and the cruel jeering, this was too much.
• I tried to push myself away but he held me, his stance easy but his grip painful.
• “Can you let me go, you pervert?’ I demanded imperiously, trying to stand straight and tall but I only reached up to his shoulder. My heels were lost too and I knew I looked a mess. My hair tumbled about me, the carefully pressed curls, a riot of mahogany, reaching up to my waist. His eyes raked over me, cool and amused in a disdainful way, moving over my breasts which were visible through the lacy top of the short dress. I blushed in fury.
• Again, he addressed the man beside him, making it seem like I was too low to be spoken to directly, and I saw that he had an entire entourage with him, black-suited bouncers with grim visages.
• Without loosening his grip on my arm, although I was struggling in earnest now, he said in a low rumble, his voice hoarse and not unpleasant,
• ’ Little girl, it’s bedtime for you. ‘
• A ripple of chuckles went around and I felt my face flame. And then he pushed me away, swatting my rounded behind sharply, his cold pale grey eyes narrowing dismissively as he growled,
• ’Run along back to your Daddy, little girl and su*k him off before bedtime.’
• My face burned as the men standing around guffawed, their leery eyes devouring me. The spaghetti strap on my right shoulder had broken off sometime during Mustafa’s manhandling and I was clutching my dress to my bosom desperately.
• His mocking comment was the last straw and I hurled myself at the man who was turning away dismissively.. Without stopping to think, I raised my hand and slapped him as hard as I could.
• *
• My aunt had always sighed and said I should rein in my passions or I would end up a tramp like my mother. But I was too wrung out to control my fury now.
• The man’s large hand snaked out even before I had finished and gripped my wrist in a painful hold, making me cry out as he twisted my arm behind my back , making me cry out. The livid red mark on his hard cheek with the light stubble, made him look dangerous although a look of astonishment and then ferocity flashed over his otherwise unemotional, granite-like features as he growled,
• ’Ah, little girl. You should not have done that.’
• And before I knew what was happening, he turned to his men and spoke in a clipped tone.
• ’Tell Gowen I shall see him later.’
• And with that, he jerked me to his body, half hauling, half dragging me out, surrounded by a tight circle of men who effectively hid me from view. The crowds automatically parted as we moved and with a sinking feeling, I comprehended belatedly, that he was someone important.
• Folks were scared of him, I thought, my heart sinking to my toes. It was in the way they glanced away and then, lowered their eyes deferentially before stepping back.
• I tried to speak, swallowing hard as I was pulled along by the resolute man beside me.
• ’I…I am sorry…’ I panted and he flicked me a look, a hot burning look that made me bite my lip hard.
• ‘You don’t know sorry, little girl,’ he murmured silkily and I felt a deep fear in my belly at his words.
• What had I got myself into?
• *
• We entered a small cage like an elevator hidden by heavy red drapes that whisked us upstairs. All the while the man kept me imprisoned, his large hand trapping my arm painfully behind my back and I breathed shakily. I glanced fearfully at the man and his companions, with their blank faces, who were behaving as though it was normal for their boss to whisk a girl into an elevator and drag her to some unknown destination.
• Suddenly, we were upstairs and I blinked. The entire corridor we had emerged into, was carpeted richly, in dull browns and maroon, the wood-paneled walls giving it a classy finish. It was entirely different from the raw, almost violent atmosphere of the large fighting club we had just left. I barely caught a glimpse of my surroundings before the man who was holding me dragged me to a large door at the end of the corridor. And then, he had shut the door in the face of his companions as he flung me into the room.
• Landing on the richly carpeted ground, I glared at him, furious. Undignified though I felt, I was too angry to stop to think. In all my eighteen years, I had never had such a horrible day, and believe me, I have seen plenty.
• I scrambled to my feet as he turned away indifferently and strode over to a bar that ran the length of one wall. The room was large and dominated by a huge walnut desk that had objects of art on it and a score of files, neatly placed on the side.
• There was a commotion outside the door and, the door was flung open and a woman rushed in, blonde hair in a tight bob around her beautifully shaped head, her blue eyes wide with apprehension and something else. She looked vaguely familiar though how it would be possible was a mystery in itself.
• “Darling, Luc baby, who is she!!!" she shrieked and flung herself at me.