no longer care. I continue murmuring in her ear, "You leave me no choice but to cross our boundaries if you do not tell me no, right now."
"Please," she whispers. "I need it. I need you in the room."
I position my face in front of hers. I missed it earlier. There is fear in her eyes. It's hidden under layers of confidence and lust.
Her eyes glisten. Her lip trembles. "Please, Malin. I need the strength of us."
How could I have missed it?
Be the man she needs tonight.
I graze my lips against hers. "Then you shall have it." I spin and guide her into the room.
When we step in, my eyes need to adjust. The room is a quarter full. Candles provide the only light. Seductive music plays. The stage is set up, and ma belle freezes and stares. She shudders.
I scan the room and lead her to the corner sitting area. Two candles burn on end tables. I pick them up and blow them out.
I didn't see him, but the President steps out of the shadows and in front of us.
"Kneel," he growls.
Emilia obeys, and her head tilts toward my feet.
"Look at me," he barks.
Defiance and fear fill her blues.
He leans down and lowers his voice. "I will break you. Over and over, I will make you mine."
I move Emilia's chin so she's looking at me. "You forget who bought her. And I already broke her."
33
Emilia
"Father." I hear but don't take my eyes off Malin's or budge from my kneeling position. His voice is similar to the President's.
Stale breath hits my ear, and I shiver. "Say Happy Birthday to my son. He will have you, too."
"Look at Roger when you tell him Happy Birthday so he can see what he will never have," Malin orders, his eyes full of rage. He lifts his fist to my face and wraps the leash tighter around it.
I turn to the side. The President's son is a younger version of him. His eyes have the coldness of his father's but also more cockiness. Like a drooling child, he licks his lips and reaches for my face.
"Do not touch my property," Malin belts out so loud, I jump.
Roger snatches his hand back.
"Have you not memorized the bylaws?" Malin accuses.
"Of course I have."
"The next time you attempt to touch what I own, you shall receive the consequences," Malin threatens. "Now tell him Happy Birthday, Emilia."
I stick my chin out and look him in the eyes. "Happy Birthday, Roger."
His gaze drifts from my face to my breasts.
Malin fists my hair so I face the ceiling. His finger outlines my collar. "A billion dollars I paid. My name is on her neck. Not yours. Do not forget it."
Roger turns to the President. "I want them on stage with me tonight, along with my gift. They both will submit to me and I will take ownership of his property."
My insides quiver.
Malin's eyes turn to slits. "You are naive. I am a Global Leader. I do not submit to you. And you will never touch my property."
He steps up to Malin. "She will beg for it, so bad, it will compete with the cries and moans of my gift. You will have to give it to her. You won't be able to resist. When she comes, she will look at me, not you, desperate for my touch, not yours, wanting what I can give her, not you. You will both submit to me, without me ever touching either of you, and I will own her."
Malin's face hardens. He leans closer to Roger. "Your arrogance will be your demise."
Roger purses his lips and steps back. He turns to his father. "Whatever it takes, make it happen." He spins and leaves.
"This game is getting old, Malin," the President seethes.
"Maybe you should offer something valuable then," Gustave's voice cuts in.
"Gustave!" Malin barks.
What is he doing?
Gustave's voice lowers. "Your son's wishes are easily arranged."
"Gustave!"
Chills break out along my spine then speed through me so I'm shaking.
"I'm listening," the President says.
"She is my property, not yours to deal out," Malin growls.
"Let's go talk, shall we?" Gustave asks.
"There is no discussion on this topic," Malin states.
The President licks his lips at Emilia. "Lead the way."
"I'll be back," Gustave says.
The red in Malin's face deepens. "Gustave!"
The men leave, and Malin stares at them, then slowly looks at me.
I can't stop shaking.
Why is Gustave trying to sell me?
How could he?
Malin sits and pulls me in his lap.
"M-Malin," I whisper.
His lips hit my ear. "Stay calm. No one will