Devil Woman

I rolled up my sleeves and she licked her lips.

His lower lip was thicker than the upper one.

Please sit down, I broke the electric silence.

She complied and took a seat in the large armchair in the corner to my right.

So, Miss Rosefield, you're playing with my henchmen.

I expected a reaction from her, red cheeks, eyes on the ground, anything but nothing came. She was impassive like the queen's red guards that I had seen as a child in front of Buckingham Palace.

How long already? One day ?

Seven, she corrected me.

Running away was already a feat in itself but managing to hide from my men for a whole week was a real miracle.

When Ivan had informed me that the girl had escaped, I had first wanted to kill her. not recovered, my orders had changed.

I was intrigued by this girl who had been playing hide and seek with Ivan for so long.

I smiled noticing that she had said this to me as a provocation, yearning to touch my honor.

In reality it was my ego that had taken a hit.

How did a high school girl, a girl moreover, manage to escape me to my country when she knew nothing about Russia?

That's right

I got up, pushed by the need to get closer to this walking miracle. I walked around my office and came to stand right in front of her.

Tell me why I simply can't kill you for this affront?

If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already, am I wrong?

I was amused by this little bit of a rebellious woman.

As usual, women instinctively submitted to me, most certainly hoping that I would fall for the good little submissive wife.

This had never happened. Partly because I hated submissives and partly because I wasn't one to fall in love.

Apart from the suffering of others.

I leaned close to her. My lips brushed her cold, sensitive skin.

Maybe I just want to fuck you Elisabeth, I said.

She stiffened under the effect of my language.

Finally a reaction.

If so, you're wasting your time, you're not my type of man, he said standing up.

She turned her back to me and under her wide skirt I guessed a round, firm posterior.

Suddenly, lost in the contemplation of her attributes, I did not see her stop and turn her head slightly.

Especially since I heard that it does not exceed the bar of ten centimeters

On this last provocation she disappeared down the hall.

I was torn between the desire to catch up with her to make her mine in this same hallway and the desire to show her what it costs to defy me like this.

She looks so much like her , I tell myself bitterly.

I motioned for one of my guys to come forward.

I want you to put my three best men on this girl, I want to know everything about her.

I got up but my uncle called out to me.

This kid is not shy, she

Not now my uncle, I have other things to do, I cut him off.

And with that, I left my office.

In the bedroom I put my few meager belongings in my backpack.

Now that I had met him, I was sure he was going to let me go.

I heard footsteps but paid no attention, I had noticed that Olga used to come in without knocking.

Olga, I'm going to kill you, you told me at the last minute that it was the head of the mafia, I said, putting away my outfit from this morning in my bag.

Suddenly a large and powerful hand emptied my bag onto the bed.

I turned and faced the most powerful man I had ever met.

I... I thought it was Olga

I was angry with myself for baiguiller, it never usually happened to me!

I always managed to stay in control and thus make everyone believe that I was cold and confident.

Why are you packing your bag?

Well I imagined that I was free now.

Stop imagining things Elisabeth, he gets angry.

But

He holds my chin cutting me and at the same time destroys all the confidence I had in myself.

AND STOP BEING INSOLENT! I AM VLADIMIR IVANOVICH! I AM THE MOST POWERFUL MAN IN RUSSIA! he shouts.

He releases my chin.

From now on you will never disrespect me again, he said coldly.

He turns around and before leaving with a bestial gait, he tells me to put on a real dress for dinner tonight. By the way he also threatens me to dress me even if I arrive with something other than 'dress.

Once gone, I fall on the bed.

What kind of mess did you just land in my little Elisabeth?

I was still in bed when the real Olga arrived, I had fallen asleep and hadn't seen the time pass.

Come on my little one, you have to hurry up, dinner will soon be served! she exclaimed.

I sighed and got up reluctantly. This bed was really, really soft. I went to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Inside, I flushed out a dress.

She was beautiful, but as always on me she wouldn't have been enough to hide my overweight.

When I went shopping with my parents and my sister, I sometimes tried on dresses. Some caught my eye immediately, others had been unearthed on the rods.

In the fitting rooms I put them on, happy. But once I went out it was forfeiture. As soon as the curtain was drawn, I was already entitled to my mother's uncompromising gaze. Then after the gaze came undeniably the pungent remarks that gripped my guts and took my breath away.

As always I returned to the cabin the euforia of the moment very quickly forgotten. Sheltered in the fitting cocoon I took the time to inspect myself in the glass and, as always, I ended up giving right to my mother.

I hated my body, it disgusted me, made me sick.

However, I tried to lose weight and did nothing, but I couldn't stick to a diet or start exercising.

Since then I used to avoid dresses, skirts and shorts, anything that could reveal my unsightly body and especially my thighs.

No one had ever known that I carried within me this malaise, this perpetual conflict with my body.

That was the intended goal.

Camouflaging clothing had simply become my trademark.

I put the dress back on the rod. It was too beautiful to be worn by someone like me. I would feel like I was dirtying it.

I flushed out another, neither too long nor too short, neither too beautiful nor too ugly.

It was simple but sewn in silky fabrics. The color of the dress, a pink burgundy, highlighted the golden chains on the shoulders which gave the outfit a military air.

I went into the bathroom to put on the said dress while panting ravaged at the idea of leaving my pants which were almost like a second skin.

I returned to the dining room right on time.

Around the large Victorian style table, like the rest of the furniture, several people were already seated.

Girls, boys, teenagers, men, mature women.

All generations were represented around this table over which Vladimir seemed to reign. He was seated at the end of the table, in the king's place.

When I entered the great hall he stood up and his family followed suit.

I felt pairs of eyes analyzing me. This inspection brought back so many bad memories that I didn't stare at anyone for fear of holding a murderous gaze.

He walked over to me and looked me up and down.

A smile of satisfaction floated on her luscious lips.

I present to you my family, he said.

Arrived at the height of the last free chair I was obliged to look up.

Dozens of heads stared at me. When Vladimir sat down everyone imitated him and I silently thanked him for ending my ordeal.

Elizabeth this is my mother Tatiana, introduces me to Vladimir, next to her there is my father Aldo.

Her mother, a woman in her forties, had brown eyes and features drawn with age and fatigue. Her hair was slicked back to her head in a strict bun. disgust in the look.

I decided to put her in the category of people I was not going to get along with. I hated those who looked down on me. I had a holy horror of them.

I have a feeling we're going to get along well yippee.

I shifted my gaze one place and for a change I fell on the benevolent gaze of his father. He was a man just as old as his wife but despite his age he had managed to keep the athletic build of his youth. was smiling and I couldn't help but return a shy smile.

He seemed so nice that I almost forgot that he too was most certainly involved in illegal business.

Yet I decided to classify him in the nice category. For some reason I felt good about this man.

Delighted, I whispered.

His father answered me while his wife did not even move her lips. She had kept them pursed until they were beginning to turn whitish.

He had gone around the table. Cousins, cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters were seated like a normal family.

I found a touch of irony that a mafia family seemed more normal than my own family.

They all looked happy around this table, they were laughing among themselves and, apart from the few murderous looks I had received, nothing suggested that anyone present at this table could have an ounce of wickedness.

I hadn't opened my mouth for the whole meal. Usually I was a real chatterbox but finding myself here, among strangers, didn't make me feel confident.

I still didn't understand why a girl like me, with no history, no problem with the law, could find herself kidnapped by the Russian mafia.

By being here I had everything to lose, my normal life, my country and many others, but what had he gained by keeping me here like a princess in her ivory tower?

Without thinking much I opened my mouth and asked the question that had been burning my lips since I had left high school to find myself in this armored car:

Why am I here?

The assembly is silent, the conversations left in suspense and the cutlery filled with food motionless in the air.

Tatiana glared at me as if I had just broken a law. After all, I had just interrupted the Ivanovich family in the middle of dinner, me the simple little teenager from California.

You're here because I want to, said the owner coldly.

"Because that's reason enough to hold someone against their will?" I asked bewildered.

Yes, he replied in your sec.

Quietly he went back to eating as if it was usual for him to kidnap people, to put them through hell.

As if it were the devil.

But who do you think you are? I asked with a mixture of incomprehension and anger in my voice.

Suddenly the assembly froze, as if time had stopped. The cutlery stopped clinking on contact with the porcelain plates, the chewing noises disappeared, giving way to empty heads of emotion.

Even Vladimir looked, for a moment, surprised at my remark.

As if no one had ever taught him that not everything was necessarily due to him.

As if this man was really used to being compared to God or even Satan, ruling his kingdom as those rule heaven or hell.

He looked up at me.

I am the boss of the mafia and you, child, you better shut up.

In a jump of anger I get up, the chair creaking under the violence of my gesture.

We wonder which of us is a child! You who take you for a king thinking you are superior to everyone or me? I asked annoyed.

He got up almost without emotion but I detected nervousness in his movements.

Looks like I creased the crease resistant.

He advanced towards me, slowly making my torture last. And, when he arrived in front of me, he took me by the throat.

"YOU SHOULD FEAR ME AND RESPECT ME!" he yelled.

The silence resumed while in my head I chose my words like weapons before going into battle.

I'm not afraid of you, I began calmly. I'm not afraid of you, nor of what you could do to me, nor even of death.

After a long silence, witnessing a visual duel between him and me, I added, raising my arms to the sky:

I fear only the Almighty

Stunned by my remark he released his grip on my throat until he completely withdrew his hand.

He went away, leaving me standing there, overturning a table in his path, breaking dishes.