Murderville Page 0,51

Samad had waiting for her. As she stepped into the room her face fell in confusion as she saw the odd looking clothing hanging off the many racks.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“These are called burqas,” Samad said as he removed one of the full body coverings. “I made sure the seamstress made them of the highest quality.”

Liberty frowned slightly as she looked at the traditional Muslim garment. The room was full of them.

Where are the designer clothes . . . my Gucci and Louboutin? she thought as she tried to hide her shock. This was definitely not what she had expected. Samad had thrown her for a loop.

Samad pulled a head covering off the rack. “This is a hijab,” he said. “Whenever you leave the house you are expected to wear the full dressing. When you are here with me you are only required to wear the hijab.”

“But I’m not Muslim,” she said.

Samad gave her a sharp look that caused her to stop speaking. For a brief moment his face turned cold and a dark glare came over him as he stared at her.

“You are what I say you are,” he said with authority. “You belong to me, Liberty. You are mine now and no other man needs to see what is mine. I’ve invited you into my home and in my home you are expected to worship two things . . . Allah and me.” He held one of the burqas out for her. “Put it on.”

Her heart pounded furiously as anger overtook her. How dare he force his beliefs on her? She wanted to give him her ass to kiss but he held her entire livelihood in his hands.

“Can I ask you what the jewels are for? If I have to wear these they will be covered anyway,” Liberty protested.

“That’s the problem with women like you. You always want to be seen. So much flash . . . you require so much attention. The jewels are for you, not for the world to see. This is non-negotiable. Now let me see you in it,” he insisted, this time more sternly.

Liberty took the garment and hesitantly slid out of her kimono robe before dressing in the burqa. The fabric swallowed her shape, hiding her curves and concealing her beauty. The only thing that could be seen were her eyes, which were pooled with fresh tears. She now realized what the catch was. Her life was not entirely her own to live. Her time with Samad would not be as glamorous as she had thought. She didn’t see the point of having money or beauty if she could not flaunt it for others to see. The venomous look she had seen in Samad’s eyes let her know that he was a snake and if provoked he was capable of spitting his venom her way.

THIRTEEN

LIBERTY TOSSED AND TURNED ON THE SILK sheets, her mind refusing to unwind. She had a hard time sleeping in her new environment. There was something about Samad’s estate that made her restless. The vastness of the halls seemed to carry a constant echo, making it impossible for her to be at ease. She looked over at the empty space that Samad rarely occupied. Their night-time routine was the same. He expected sex from her, engaging her body into the wee hours of the night. When he was done he would stroke her hair until she pretended to fall asleep. When he thought she wasn’t looking he snuck out of the room and went into his office until the early morning hours. It was the one room in the entire house that she had never explored, and she silently wondered what secrets Samad held inside. It was clearly off limits to her, but as much time as Samad spent locked away inside that room, her curiosity was piqued. She crept out of bed and went to his office door, putting her ear to the wood. Her prying ears picked up on Samad’s conversation, and she frowned as she thought, Who is he talking to this early?

She listened closely, spying because while she lived under the same roof as him, she barely knew him. Although he never intentionally mistreated her, something didn’t feel right when she was in his presence. It was the way he looked at her that intimidated her. He was hiding something, and she needed to know more.

“This one is working out much better than the last,” she heard him say. “She is adjusting much quicker.