But then it comes back to me. We put a guy away for good last year, or at least that’s what I thought. A year ago, I did in fact witness a large drug transaction during a repo job, and I reported it to the cops. With my testimony, the prosecutor was able to put a couple guys away for what I thought would be decades. But evidently, their ringleader is already out, and brazenly up to the same bad acts. That must be this Marzakian person. Holy fuck. Clearly, there’s something wrong with the American justice system if he’s already been released.
But right now, I can’t do anything. I’m trapped in a cage, and god knows how long I’ve been in an unconscious state. Days, maybe even weeks. Does Marley realize? Is she wondering where I am? My heart contracts in pain for the curvy girl as my fists grip the golden bars once more. I’m going to get out of here, and then wreak revenge on my captors before living my truth with the curvy girl.
11
Marley
I’m shocked at the amount of security we pass on the way up to Simon’s penthouse. It starts at the elevator banks. Of course, he has a private elevator to access the top floor penthouse, but not before you pass through a small gate with a scanner embedded in it. Simon holds still in front of a camera, and I sense that there’s some facial recognition technology going on. Then, the gate beeps and swishes open, allowing us to proceed into the elevator.
“I had no idea the hotel could do this,” I say slowly.
The hardened criminal merely chuckles.
“Yeah, they’ll let you do anything to their property so long as you pay enough.”
“Do you live here?” I ask as we’re whooshed up to the top floor.
The blonde man merely shrugs.
“I live here, there, everywhere. A man of the world like me doesn’t stay in any one place too long.”
I wonder if one of those past residence was jail, but of course, my lips stay shut. Instead, I merely smile at him brightly and wriggle my hips.
“Well, you’ll have to show me. I’ve always wanted to go to Aspen.”
He lets out a long, low laugh, those green eyes as hard as jade.
“I don’t let my girls go skiing when we’re at Aspen,” he drawls. “Girls like you stay in the cabin while I’m on the slopes. That way, I know you’re ready and waiting for me after a long day.”
How sexist! But I merely coo, squeezing his arm.
“Oh of course! I don’t know how to ski anyways. I’m a different kind of snow bunny.”
Simon chuckles low in his chest, and it’s a menacing sound. Then, we get out of the elevator and walk down a gilded hall. The wallpaper is gold, the chandeliers are gold, and even the carpet has glimmers of sparkle in it. It’s blinding and I cringe inwardly at how gaudy and tasteless this place is. But finally, we come upon a huge door with two men standing on either side of the frame. Simon drapes his arm around me possessively as we approach.
“Gentlemen, no problems while I was away tonight?” he greets them.
“Yes sir. All quiet,” one replies in a peculiarly high-pitched voice. Then the other guard opens the door, and we step inside. I’m stunned by what I see. I dubbed Simon as a tasteless man, and I was a hundred percent right because the gold theme continues, but to the nth degree. Gold carved molding outlines the cathedral ceilings, wrapping around white wallpapered support beams to meet the tiled floor. A chandelier that seems larger than life dangles from the highest point in the center of the room, a gold framed ring holding a cascade of crystals. It’s way too much, but of course, I have to pretend that I like it.
“Wow,” I breathe, shimmying my hips again. “Is this real?”
Simon chuckles.
“Solid gold, baby. That’s the only way I roll.”
I’m just about to answer when suddenly, my eyes land on a cage in the far corner of the room. The bars are coated in gold, naturally. But it’s not the cage itself that makes me gasp, it’s the man sitting on the floor with his back to me, leaning against the bars. I would recognize that muscular back anywhere because it’s my lover. Justin. Oh my god! He’s been in a cage this entire time?
But I swallow, and call out to Simon in a sweet tone.
“Goodness, I’ve never been in such a fancy apartment before. Did you design it yourself?” Justin’s back stiffens when he hears my voice, but he doesn’t turn around just yet. Then, I turn to face Simon, mincing a few steps in his direction.
The blonde man chortles again, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I took a few hints from Trump’s penthouse,” he admits, pointing at a mural on the ceiling. “It’s an exact replica of what the Don has. Isn’t that cool baby?”