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But is that even possible?

I go to the furthest end of the closet, feeling like Lucy in back of the wardrobe about to enter Narnia. All I need to do is reach my fingers to the very edge, and the solid back of the wall will melt into snow-laden branches in a forest. My entire time here feels surreal, and the mystery imbued in the feel of this closet only enhances that.

When I reach the wall, my fingers collide with solid wood, and I feel almost let down. I slump against the wall, my forehead flat against the cool wood. When I inhale, my shoulders rise and fall. I’m imprisoned. Though I walk freely, there’s nowhere for me to go. And while I’m slumped against the wall, a sudden realization hits me with the power of a sledgehammer.

In taking me from my home and robbing me of all that’s familiar to me, he’s taken away my ability to hide. I have no escape. No retreat. He’s forced me into the open, into the blinding light. I’m caught halfway between feeling like I’m trapped in a prison and half like I’m on display in a Colosseum. Entertainment for the masses to watch me slaughtered.

A muffled sound of a door opening and closing makes me freeze in place. Footsteps enter the room, but they’re not Kazimir. They’re too light, not heavy like his.

I listen and try peer through the small crack in the door where it stands ajar. I see a shadow pass the door, but I can’t see a face yet. There are muffled sounds of things being lifted up and moved, all accompanied by the patter of feet. It’s someone small and lithe. Why do I hide? I could just go out there and see who it is. But something tells me I shouldn’t have entered the closet to begin with, and my snooping would not go over well.

The elevator dings, and the movement of the person in the room freezes. My heart longs to hear Kazimir. Though he may punish me for a what I did, he’s the only one I trust.

I freeze. Trust? How much have I been influenced by him?

It isn’t Kazimir’s voice I hear the next minute, but Dimitri. Cold fear races through my veins. I shouldn’t be in this room. What will he do if he finds me in here? Suddenly the threat of Kazimir’s spanking seems fairly benign compared to what Dimitri might do.

I back further into the closet so my back is flush against the wall. Voices approach. They’re getting closer. Between the stifling heat in this closet and my panic, I can hardly breathe. I hold onto my breath, standing as still as I can. I can’t understand a word Dimitri says to the woman, but his tone is anything but pleased. He barks out a series of commands, and I freeze when I hear her shriek. Through the small sliver at the door, I can see him grab her by the upper arm and wave his hand angrily at the closet. He barks out a few commands in Russian, then practically throws her against the door and shoves his body up against hers. I hear the crack of her skull on the wall and cringe.

Panic sweeps through me when she cries out in pain. My hands shake. Is he going to hurt her? Rape her? What can I do to stop him? He’ll kill me.

I watch in horror as he clamps a hand between her legs and growls in her ear. She whimpers but doesn’t move, pinned against the wall by his frame. My own hand freezes on the door knob. What will happen to her if I interfere? I screw up my face and swallow a cry. I’m torn between right and wrong and the consequences of what happens if I get involved.

I open my eyes and glare at the monster Kazimir thinks of as a father. What would Dimitri’s wife think if she saw his hand between this woman’s legs? Or is she as cold and vicious as he is? Is he going to hurt her? A second later, he lets her go, but rears his hand back and strikes the woman across the face. He gestures angrily at the closet door and thunders at her. She cries freely now, begging and pleading, and though she speaks a foreign language, her pleas break my heart.

Dimitri turns on his heel and storms away, when he freezes mid-stride. Kneeling, he touches something on the edge of the carpet with the tip of his finger.

Oh, God. My blood freezes in my veins. Did I leave any hints that I’m here? What will he do if he sees me? Not only should I not be in here, I just witnessed him abusing a member of his staff.


Tags: Jane Henry Wicked Doms Erotic