

ONLY THE STRONGEST SURVIVE

by

Ian Fox

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Ian Fox

Only the Strongest Survive

Copyright 2011 by Ian Fox

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Chapter 1

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Emely Donnovan, the CEO and major shareholder of Donnovan Corporation, was driving with a smile on her face, along the wide avenues of the Chicago suburbs, glancing at the various buildings. She had moved to the largest city in Illinois because of the rapid growth of her company and because Chicago, as the third most populous city in the States, offered her numerous business opportunities.

Just over twenty minutes later she reached the highway leading to Rockford, where she was meeting a realtor. While she was mentally drawing up her negotiating strategy, a black truck suddenly appeared in front of her. It cut in so quickly she had to jam her foot on the brake pedal in order to avoid smashing into the truck. Emely blasted her horn at the driver.

She needed to move to the outside lane to overtake the truck. As soon as she turned on the left turn signal, another truck appeared on her left, also black, stopping her from changing lanes. She waited patiently for the vehicle to go past. She kept looking ahead and to her left, gripping the steering wheel.

It seemed as if the two transport vehicles were connected in some way. They were both gradually slowing down. Emely lost patience. She hit the steering wheel and blew five longs blasts on the horn.

The two black masses were slowing down, moving toward the hard shoulder. She felt trapped. She was forced to play their game.

Suddenly she noticed that both trucks had their right turn signals on. The two vehicles were slowing down and so was she.

When her car stopped completely, she opened the door and got out. "What the hell?"

Since she was fearless and decisive by nature, the thought of being in danger never crossed her mind.

Two masked men wearing black coveralls jumped out of the backs of the trucks. She realized immediately the fix she was in and ran back toward her car. After only a couple of steps she felt a hand grab her neck and she cried out in pain, "Who are you? What ... do you want from me? Help!"

However much Emely shouted, no one could hear her. The noise on the highway was so loud due to the heavy traffic that her desperate cries for help carried only a few yards. The man holding her by the neck took no notice of her screams. With his other hand he lifted her like a feather and carried her to his truck.

She resisted with all her strength, trying to free herself, kicking her legs in all directions. The other man immediately came to help the first and grabbed her hands. He took two pairs of restraints from his pocket and first fastened her hands and then her ankles.

They pushed her into the back of the truck and slammed the heavy door. Emely lay helplessly on some damp cardboard, trying to get out of the restraints that were stopping her from getting up. She looked around in the darkness and saw numerous stacks of empty boxes.

Oh no, this can't be true, she thought. I'm being kidnapped and now they'll ask for a huge ransom.

*

She had a feeling they were driving forever. At least four hours, she guessed. After a while she began to be thrown about more. She felt that they must have turned onto a dirt road. In spite of the cardboard on which she lay, she was getting bruised because of all the shaking. After what was probably about twenty more minutes, the truck stopped. Her heart began to beat faster.

The door opened and a man jumped up. He was holding something black in his hand.

On seeing a mask covering his face, Emely shuddered. She began thrashing around so much that her head hit the floor a number of times.

"Keep still, lady, or you'll only make it worse," he warned her. He put the blindfold over her eyes, lifted her, and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Let me go! Please!" she shouted. Tears came to her eyes. "I'll pay as much as you want."

"Of course you will. When the time's right."

"How much? I'll dial a number and in an hour you'll have the cash. Just let me go."

She heard him open a door. The helpless Emely was still folded over his right shoulder.

"Let me go!"

"We're not interested in money," he said.

He opened the door to a room and placed her on a metal bed.

"So what do you want? Tell me, please."

The man took no notice of her questions. He slowly removed the restraint from her left hand and fastened her right wrist to the metal frame of the bed. Then he did the same with her ankle, only this time he fastened her left leg.

"Why don't you answer? Please, tell me what you want from me," she said in a more demanding tone.

She felt a prick in her right arm and realized she must have been given a sedative.

"Why? No, please ... stop!" she shouted as loud as she could.

As if unable to hear her, the man took off her shoes and put a soft pillow under her head. Emely felt her eyelids grow heavy and fell asleep instantly.

*

"Good morning, Ms. Donnovan."

She jerked as if she had received a jolt of electricity. She had slept like a log.

"What do you want from me?" she asked fearlessly. Her head was throbbing and she was parched. As she could not see anything, she opened and closed her eyes a few times and then remembered she was blindfolded.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Ronald Langdon and this is my brother, John."

She frowned, trying to remember where she knew their names from.

The man waited a while and then said, "I see our names don't mean anything to you. What about the company, Spark Sports?"

She remembered instantly. She took such a deep breath that a sharp whistle emerged from her lungs.

"It's been nearly nine years since you took over our company," Ronald said.

She remembered it well. It had been a wonderful financial opportunity that was impossible to resist.

"Over thirty years ago our father opened a large store specializing in sports equipment. The store was so successful that soon he opened another one on the West Coast. Within a few years he became the owner of a chain of stores around the country," Ronald said. He paused for a few moments. "Due to the company's fast growth and an urgent need for new capital, its structure had to change. My father turned it into a joint stock company and as the CEO he kept a 40 percent share, putting the other 60 percent on the market. That is how he acquired capital."

Emely was listening carefully. She knew exactly where this was leading and it made her feel sick.

"A sudden accident in which our father died put me and my brother at the head of the company. We led it successfully for five years."

John added sharply, "Until we invested in a megalomaniac franchise, which turned out to bring nothing but loss. Our company got into serious trouble."

Ronald said, "We needed an enormous financial loan. We asked a number of banks, but none of them would lend us anything. There was nothing else to do but put a number of series B shares on the market."

Emely's throat tightened. She wanted to say something in her defense but was unable.

Ronald told her with reproach in his voice, "And then you turned up. At an incredible speed you began to buy all the shares that were on the market, regardless of the price."

She could feel and smell his bad breath and had to hold her own breath.

"Within three weeks you bought most of the shares and became the majority holder!" He was shouting now, spraying saliva over her face.

"That's how the market works," she said, hissing. "Everyone has the right to buy shares—"

"You weren't satisfied with your own company," Ronald said. "You wanted more and more. Later we found out it was your slander that had stopped banks from giving us a loan."

"But you retained your share," she said in her defense. "You did sell it later, but—"

"Yes, we had the right to vote, but you took on the leadership. Of our company."

"Which is still doing good business," she had to add.

"You took something our family had struggled for. What right did you have?"

Emely was losing her temper. "But that's how the stock market works. The strongest wins. Everyone has to fight."

"What you're trying to say is that it's like nature. Only the strongest survive."

Emely did not know how to respond.

Ronald said, "I'm afraid you won't survive, Ms. Donnovan."

She shuddered. Emely wanted to say something, but because of the huge lump in her throat all that came out was a mumble.

"We didn't want to work for you so we sold the shares. We bought a small computer hardware company. Because of the strong competition and speculation over software licenses we had to shut it down after three years."

John said, "And so we were left with nothing. Because of you."

"But you didn't have to sell the shares of Spark Sports," she said, defending herself like a child.

"Shut up. How dare you talk to me like that? The fact is that if you hadn't turned up with your greed, Spark Sports would still belong to us."

"But—"

"No buts. There's no excuse for what you did."

"What do you want from me?" Emely asked, sobbing. Only now did it occur to her that she was in serious trouble.

"What we're still able to take from you," John said coldly. "Your life."

"Use your head. We can come to a deal. I'll pay you as much as you want."

Both men laughed loudly and their laughter reverberated around Emely's head for a long time after they had left. When she was sure that they were gone, she started crying and trembling with fear.

*

The same afternoon, John entered her room.

"I've come to accompany you to the bathroom. You've got exactly ten minutes to do whatever you need to. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded humbly.

John undid the restraints, took her by the hand, and led her down a long corridor to a small windowless room.

When he closed the door, she removed the blindfold and had a long drink of water. Her neck was hurting and she quickly massaged it. Then she used the toilet and splashed her face with cold water in order to help her think more clearly. I must find a solution, she thought. There's always a solution. She sat on the toilet cover and put her head in her hands. Ronald Langdon is a very principled but revengeful guy. His brother John seems different. I may be able to persuade him. She lifted her head slightly and looked around. The purple-rimmed tiles were dirty and the shower cubicle also in bad shape.

She heard knocking on the door, a sign that her ten minutes were over. She covered her eyes again.

When she was fastened to the bed again, she said, "John, I'd like to talk to you."

"Yes," he said drily.

"You seem like a very smart guy, unlike your brother." She stopped for a moment and forced a little smile. "In fact, I think you should have been in charge of your company instead of him. As far as I know, you were his assistant. I have a feeling you're much more capable than he is."

"You don't have to flatter me," he told her.

"I only wanted to say that you seemed like a very reasonable man. Not as stubborn as your brother. I understand that you're filled with a desire for revenge. If I'd known that your company meant so much to you, I would never have—"

"Shut up and stop blabbering. You should have thought of it then, you greedy bitch." His voice sounded more and more tense.

"I just want to mention that I have two million dollars in my personal account in Switzerland. No one knows about it. If you give me the number of your bank account, I can transfer the money with a single phone call. No risk involved."

"Damn it! You talk too much." He got up and banged the door shut.

*

In the evening Emely heard footsteps approaching the room. Her heart started racing and she fearfully waited to know who would open the door. She got the feeling it was John. By his irregular movements she concluded that he was drunk.

"I came to ask if you wanted to use the can," he said. He was so close to her that she was able to smell his breath, which reeked of alcohol. She recoiled from him as much as she could.

Next she felt him remove the blindfold.

"Hmm, not bad," he mumbled. "My big brother has gone somewhere and there's no need for you to have your eyes covered. It was his idea, but I'm not sure what for. You can't go anywhere anyway."

"Yes, I'd very much like to use the bathroom," Emely said in order to change the topic of conversation, which she didn't like.

She examined him from head to toe. He was about ten inches taller than she and had an unshaven, symmetrical, elongated face framed by short, blond hair. Emely was surprised by his gleaming white teeth, clearly visible because of his wide grin. She thought he must be around thirty years old.

He took off the restraints and accompanied her to the bathroom. When she was finally alone she felt relief. I need a cold shower, she thought. In a rush she took off her clothes and turned on the cold tap as far as she could. Thousands of ice-cold droplets covered her feverish body. Instead of it being a shock, it felt incredibly liberating. She was ready to explode.

For more than ten minutes Emely kept turning around under the cold water, breathing deeply. When she started feeling cold she soaped her body, rinsed it quickly, and rubbed herself down with a towel. She looked at her wrist that was red from the restraints. Again her stomach began to churn. Oh no, I must think clearly, she told herself.

She quickly got dressed. She fixed her hair a bit and then knocked on the door to say she had finished.

The door opened and she saw John staring at her breasts. Pretending not to have seen anything, she said in a calm, deep voice, "Have you thought about my proposal, John?"

He said nothing.

"We could make a deal." Emely said this as if it were a completely normal, everyday business discussion.

Unexpectedly he grabbed her neck and held her like that all the way to her room.

"John, please don't!" she shouted in pain.

He pushed her so hard that she fell roughly onto the mattress. Before she was able to defend herself, he grabbed her left hand and fastened it to the metal frame.

"About that proposal I mentioned—"

"Shut up, you bitch. Keep that poisonous tongue of yours still."

"I just wanted to say—"

John slapped her hard with his right hand. It was so unexpected that she bit her tongue.

He tied the blindfold over her eyes and she heard him slam the door as he left.

*

Emely cried for a long time, until there was no strength left in her. She felt she might have gone to sleep for a few minutes, when someone grabbed her arm.

"What's happened?" she asked, confused.

As if he had not heard her, he unfastened her and made her stand up. He fastened her hands behind her back instead, then he took her by the elbow and dragged her downstairs. She had to run in order to be able to keep up with his long strides.

She heard the front door open and felt the fresh morning air. I was right, it must be three or four in the morning. Where are they taking me? she wondered.

He opened the back door of a vehicle and pushed her in violently. He sat next to her.

"Good morning, Ms. Donnovan." The voice was Ronald's. "We're taking you on a short early morning outing. I will be driving. I'm sure you're going to like it."

"Listen, you can't do this. Where are you taking me? Please, tell me the price, everything has a price."

"No, my dear Ms. Donnovan. We no longer care about money. We lost it all and learned to do without."

"But ..."

"No buts. All that's left is hatred and a desire for revenge. And soon this desire will be fulfilled."

She began screaming and completely lost control. Never before had she found herself in a situation which she could not influence.

John placed one hand around her mouth and they drove like that for over half an hour. The vehicle swayed from side to side to avoid roots in the road. Feeling sick from fear or the bumpy ride or both, Emely didn't know how much longer she'd last.

"Where are you taking me?" she cried when John took his hand off her mouth.

But she didn't get a reply.

After a while she asked again. "Please, tell me where we're going."

"Don't worry," Ronald said, "we've arrived."

The SUV slowed down. She felt John's hand indicating she had to get out. She wanted to stay in the vehicle, but relented. With the blindfold still on, her only orientation was the outside noise. She could hear the faint hooting of an owl, and then a mosquito buzzed past her ear. There was a strong smell of pine trees. We must be in deep woods, she guessed.

John shoved her along for a short distance and tied her to a slender tree. He took off the blindfold and she was able to look around. Because of the trees that stood close together and reached high into the starry sky, little light reached the ground in spite of the full moon. Scared, she turned toward Ronald, who was watching her from the side. He was small, only about five foot seven, and considerably overweight.

Her heart was beating hard and she kept gulping down the saliva that gathered in her mouth as she looked at his round face. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked with tears streaming.

Ronald looked down, stood on a dry branch that snapped under his weight, and smiled. "You're gonna like it here, Ms. Donnovan."

John appeared with some wide tape and put it over her mouth. She was able to respond only with muffled screams through her nose. The men set off for the car, laughing.

In horror she noticed a coffin made from raw wooden planks on the roof of the SUV. Emely wanted to scream and run, but felt she was going to faint at any moment. The scene in front of her was real, even though she found it hard to believe that it was really happening. Why did they bring a coffin?

She felt dizzy. It was too much for her. She kept looking around for anyone who could help her. They are crazy, this can't be true.

John and Ronald took the coffin off the roof and put it down next to the tree Emely was tied to. They went back to the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out two shovels.

They're only trying to scare me. They can't be serious, can they? In panic she tried to free her wrists, but got nowhere. She kept looking around to spot anyone, perhaps a woodcutter or someone picking mushrooms. She begged God to help her.

They began digging a hole in front of her.

For a while she stared at the shovels that kept pushing the soft soil so easily and she prayed for all this to turn out to be nothing more than a bad dream. But the longer she stared at them, the more certain she became that it was real. Finally, she could take no more and everything went dark.

*

When she opened her eyes, she saw in front of her an elongated hole, about five feet deep and next to her the two men, soaked with sweat and bent over from the effort.

"So, Ms. Donnovan," Ronald said, "even though it didn't seem so at first, the ground was hard and full of stones. We had to work real hard."

He looked at John and jerked his head. John came nearer, unfastened her from the tree, and refastened her hands in front of her.

Emely suddenly began to resist like a wounded wild animal. She butted John in his stomach as hard as she could and he writhed in pain.

Then she grabbed a shovel and hit Ronald on the head. She ran like the wind. The men screamed in pain.

Running as fast as she could, breathing through her nostrils, she kept looking back. To her horror and surprise, John had gotten up and was running equally fast. Emely sped up and her breathing became loud. Ignoring the branches that struck her face, she ran for her life.

She tripped over a tree root and lost her balance, sprawling onto the thick layer of pine needles covering the forest floor. It was too late. John's hands were already grabbing her leg. She struck at him like a snake, but he moved away in time. He grabbed her hands and soon had her under control. Ronald came and together they carried her back to the original spot. She kept struggling and making muffled noises.

When they put her in the coffin, her resistance doubled. She banged her head against the sides of her deathbed in the hope of the planks loosening.

The two men quickly put the wooden top on the coffin and fastened the sides down in order to prevent her from opening it. They pushed the coffin into the hole and began to cover it with soil.

When Emely felt damp soil fall onto her face through the cracks, she passed out.

Chapter 2

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In the morning the streets were foggy and deserted when Robert Miles drove to News Continental, his workplace for the last eight years. It was half past five. He hadn't been able to sleep and decided to get to work earlier than usual.

Robert had just begun to make a mark as a journalist. He was around thirty, his dark hair was on the long side and combed back. There was a twinkle in his eyes. His forehead was rather low, his nose straight and perfectly shaped, while above his lips and on his chin there was a few days' worth of growth. A round earring decorated one of his ears.

As he walked through the doorway of his office, he was surprised to see a light in the editor in chief's office. He walked over and said, "Good morning."

"Oh, Robert. What brings you here so early?"

"I couldn't sleep and decided to do something useful rather than toss in bed until seven."

"Very commendable. Grab yourself some coffee."

*

Three hours later the editor opened a meeting by saying: "The police have announced some shocking news that will shake up quite a number of our readers. It's about the businesswoman Emely Donnovan, who has disappeared for reasons unknown. The only trace left is her sports car that was found by the side of the highway."

The name seemed familiar to Robert, but he didn't dare show himself up by asking about her.

The editor said, "So far not much has been written about her. Just the odd piece here and there. She came from a very poor family—perhaps even from a foster home—can't remember exactly. What's interesting is that she established a small company that within a very short period of time grew into a huge corporation."

He picked up a pint-sized glass filled with water. After he had taken three long sips, he said, "This is a unique opportunity. Miles, can you do a piece on Emely Donnovan?"

Robert could not believe his ears. Had he really heard his name mentioned? Can it be possible that he's asking me to write such an important piece? For the last few years he had always been assigned only insignificant articles that usually had no real impact on the readers.

"Something short about her disappearance. Are you up to it?"

"Of course, don't you worry, sir." Robert scratched his cheek. He felt like leaving the meeting immediately to research the woman's past. He knew the article would engross him so much that he'd have no time to sleep.

"OK, that's that, so now we can move on. O'Brian, you'll do that piece on spiritual relaxation ..."

While the editor was talking, Robert could already see the front page of the newspaper with the headline: THE KIDNAPPING OF EMELY DONNOVAN.

Everyone reading it will never forget Emely Donnovan. And my name will be there. A pleasant tingle went through him. My God, this could be a solution for my little Zoya. If I write a good article and the readers like it, I'll finally be offered a promotion and higher pay. He scratched his cheek once more and continued daydreaming.

Chapter 3

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The Langdon brothers were silent as Ronald steered them through the dark woods.

John had some regrets about what they had just done. Not that he felt guilty, but Emely had endeared herself to him. He thought about her perfect body, remembered her perfume. John knew she was approaching forty, but she was hiding those years very well. He could not help but be attracted by Emely's slender figure, her lustrous, reddish-brown, wavy hair, and lively eyes. Her facial features were radiant and symmetrical.

And then those words: "I think you're much more capable than your brother. You should have been the one in charge of your company ...."

How right she was. Of course I'm the smarter one. It's a shame about that bitch. Then he started thinking about his brother. Ronald had always been more communicative and before John managed to see the situation, Ronald had already taken the helm of their company. I should have been more forceful, stood up to him, he thought. But it's too late now. He looked angrily at his brother's plump face. This damn loser. He destroyed everything. He looked ahead again, clenching his fists as his mind drifted back fifteen years.

*

"I can't do this math," John moaned, supporting his head with his left hand.

"You're not the brightest spark," Ronald said, standing near him, "but luckily you have a smart brother who's gonna help you."

From the kitchen chair, John looked up at him gratefully.

*

One day John joined a volleyball team. During one of the games, the ball took him by surprise and he punched it in completely the wrong direction.

"My younger brother sometimes finds it difficult to grasp simple things," Ronald told everyone present. "See, John, the rules say that you have to hit the ball over the net." He pointed to it with a perfectly serious expression on his face.

John looked down in embarrassment and couldn't wait for the scornful eyes to look away.

*

Once, when Mother had sent them to the store, Ronald happily played ball with his friends while John did the shopping. He was so angry at his brother that he forgot to get the three things that Mother most wanted. When they came back home, she berated him firmly.

"It's my fault," Ronald said. "John finds it difficult to remember things. I made a mistake. I should've been with him."

*

He always seemed so nice, John thought. But humiliating me all the time ...? John looked at his brother again and felt hatred toward him for the first time in his life. How on earth have I been able to stand it for so long? The drive seemed endless. Agitated, he kept running his fingernails along his pants.

*

Finally they arrived at the house. John thought about how their father had bought the place for weekends, and in addition to their own real estate, it was the only thing left from the inheritance that he and Ronald hadn't had to sell for financial reasons. The problem was that it would be difficult to find a suitable buyer. It was like a mansion, with ten fully furnished bedrooms. It was deep in the woods, completely isolated, nearly ten miles away from the nearest neighbor.

While their father was still alive, the land around the house, measuring over ten acres, was covered with a veritable botanical garden. However, the numerous decorative plants had now been replaced by thorny creepers. The beautiful cypresses that used to be trimmed into cubes and spheres grew every which way, as if competing at which could look the wildest. Most of the trees that had been planted had dried up and been replaced by more resilient ones. The tall stone wall was the only thing that distinguished this private land from the wild woods surrounding it.

Ronald got out of the car, stretched, and yawned. "I'm tired. I'll head straight home."

John looked at him and replied in a sharp voice, "I don't feel like driving home, I'll sleep here tonight."

"As you wish, Johnny, but I don't think you'll like it here alone." He waved goodbye and climbed into his car.

John looked after him and the farther away Ronald got, the better he felt. When the noise of the car engine had completely faded, he listened to the morning noises in the woods, accompanied by the howling of the wind. He felt slightly lost, without energy. He took one last look in the direction his brother had gone and took a deep breath. There was a tension in the pit of his stomach. I need some sleep.

He went upstairs and without realizing it walked to the room where Emely had stayed. When John opened the door, he remembered the smell of her perfume. The tension in his stomach doubled. It really is a shame about that bitch. Why did she have to be so greedy? He thought about everything she had taken from them and felt the hatred, concluding, She deserved what she got.

He closed the door and set off for his room which was only a few yards away. He glanced at his face in a round wall mirror. His eyes were swollen and the sleepless night had left clear traces. The face of a murderer, he thought.

He looked away and sat on the old bed that creaked under his weight, running his fingers through his hair. Why did you have to be so damn greedy?

The thoughts refused to leave his head. She had bewitched his mind, which so badly needed a rest.

"Damn it!" he swore and set off for the bathroom. After a long drink of cold water, he spent a minute rinsing his face. He felt a bit better afterward, returned to his room, and lay on the bed. He closed his eyes.

I've got two million dollars in my personal account in Switzerland ....

He turned on his side.

I think you're much more capable than your brother...

He opened his eyes and spent some time looking through the window. It was seven o'clock by now and birdsong intruded into his thoughts. He thought about her perfect body and kept smelling her perfume. Let her go to hell!

Once again he closed his eyes.

In fact I think you should have been in charge of your company instead of him .... I'm serious, John. What use is my life to you if you continue to be broke?... We could make a deal. ... I just want to say that I have two million dollars in my personal bank account in Switzerland. No one knows about it.

John opened his eyes wide, spurred by a great idea. It threw him out of bed like a cannonball. In three seconds flat he had his shoes on and was running down the stairs. Where have I put that damn car key? His eyes scanned the house like a laser. Oh, I remember. In the pocket of my leather jacket.

He ran back to his room, skipping several stairs at a time.

When the car keys were in his hand, he breathed a sigh of relief. He ran out of the house without closing the front door and got in his car. Impatiently he turned the key and pressed on the gas pedal as soon as the engine was on.

His erratic path threw the rear of the car left and right. John was gripping the steering wheel firmly and driving over thirty miles an hour along the rough forest road. I hope she's still alive... I hope she's still alive... he repeated.

Chapter 4

_________________________

Robert parked his old car in the huge parking lot of a tall office building that was covered in dark glass. He looked around and noticed numerous expensive cars. Only rich people work here, he thought. Then he immediately got his cell phone out.

"How are you, Zoya?"

"I'm fine, Daddy. Just reading Harry Potter."

"You can tell me all about it when I come home."

"Of course, Daddy. I can't wait for you to come home."

He said goodbye to her and felt a lump in his throat. The conversation upset him so much that he had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. He dried a tear with his right index finger. Zoya, his eight-year-old daughter, had been in a serious car accident a year earlier, caused by a drunken driver who went through a red light. Robert was unscathed, but Zoya had some permanent damage to her spine. When he was told that she would not be able to walk again, he was devastated. And then life became hell. He hated every day he had to get through and felt furious at the driver.

Two months ago he found out about one of the best surgeons for spinal injuries in the world, who was based in Switzerland. He immediately took Zoya to see him. And when he heard there was a small possibility that her condition could improve, the whole world changed for him again. The surgeon explained in detail how the operation would be done and the risks involved. And when, right at the end, he told Robert that it would cost just under 200,000 Swiss francs, Robert was shocked, but for the first time in a year he had hope again.

First he contacted his health insurance company, where they told him they could not cover such a high amount because, according to the information they had been given, the damage could not be repaired and therefore there was practically no hope. Robert tried to persuade them that there was, but to no avail. Then he went to the man who had caused the accident, but the guy was so poor that he was barely able to pay his rent, let alone an expensive operation. Robert decided he would collect the money himself even though his salary was so low that no bank was willing to give him a loan. He thought of his parents, who were both retired and still paying off the mortgage on their house. They did offer to help, but even they would be unable to get more than a $70,000 loan. The only solution left was a promotion at work. Robert thought that if his salary were higher, the problem would be solved.

*

"Please, sit down, Mr. Miles."

"Thank you." He looked around the huge office, in the middle of which there was a round glass table surrounded by black leather chairs. The floor was made of white marble and the walls were adorned with modern paintings. The large windows let huge amounts of light into the room. Before him was seated a remarkable-looking woman.

"We've decided to make a public announcement about the disappearance of the CEO of our corporation, Emely Donnovan. We chose three publications to which we will disclose all the details under the condition that you do no damage with what you write."

Robert nodded and said, "I understand."

"You must promise that you will emphasize a number of times that the company is led by people who are capable of working without the CEO."

"I see," Robert said, and looked into her cold eyes.

"You must understand that any negative news will influence our share price."

"Yes, that's perfectly clear."

"We've hired detectives, the police are looking hard, but it seems that Emely has vanished."

"It's been said that her vehicle was found," the journalist pointed out.

"Yes, at first it looked like a kidnapping. We kept waiting for the dreaded phone call. But it never came. The police think that it's not a kidnapping in the normal sense of the word, as by now the kidnappers would have asked for ransom."

Robert kept looking with great interest at the woman, and asked, "And what do you think?"

"I think we need to wait a little longer. Perhaps she'll appear tomorrow. Who knows? The main thing is to inform the public about her disappearance because it could help us if she really did disappear against her will. Something must have happened on that highway. If anyone did see anything, they'll report it to the police."

"I'd also like to know who her relatives and friends are," Robert said.

The woman told him that Emely was married to Philip Donnovan, and wrote down his address. Then she mentioned Sally Kirk, supposedly a good friend of Emely's.

"That is all for now." She pushed her chair away as she got up. "If your article is positive and realistic, we'll keep informing you of any changes."

"I can promise you that," Robert said before he left.

Chapter 5

_________________________

John paid no attention to his speed. The car suspension was complaining as he drove over dips and potholes of varying sizes. So many branches had hit the windshield that he had the feeling it would break at any moment. He gripped the steering wheel hard, leaning forward for a better view. He had already been driving for over half an hour and panic was setting in. Where did we bury her?

He could remember the spot and could have described it in detail. All those mighty pine trees standing around like witnesses watching the horrible crime they'd committed. He'd never forget them. But what John couldn't remember was the route. The road was winding and crisscrossed with others. He could only hope that he was driving along the right one. Earlier, Ronald had been at the wheel and it was dark. Who knows if I'll even be able to find that heap of earth?

Thick drops of sweat ran down his forehead, into his eyes that were hurting as he had been straining them for half an hour already, trying not to miss any little detail that could lead him to her. I hope she's still alive. A heavy weight lay in his stomach like a rock.

John had a feeling he was going the right way, but the biggest spruce that he remembered especially well was nowhere to be seen. Tall as two houses put together, at least fifty feet, it stood there like a monument.

He looked at his watch. Almost eight. Oh no, how long can a person survive in such a confined space with little oxygen?

He pressed even harder on the gas pedal. Because of the bumps he was thrown in the air a few times and the engine roared as the wheels spun in midair. John took no notice and kept his foot down.

For one moment he lost control of the vehicle. The front wheels hit a tree root and the vehicle bounced up, rolled onto its left side, and slid along for over ten yards. The side windows shattered.

As if nothing had happened, John climbed out through the right side window that was now above him. He could feel a pain in his forehead where it had smashed against the windshield.

He stood there for a while, holding his head, and then pushed against the car with all his might in the hopes of turning it back onto its wheels. He exerted so much pressure that he felt his head would split open. The vehicle moved slightly but not enough to reach the point where it would tip over and right itself.

Trying again, John shouted as he pushed, feeling his intestines were being ripped from his gut. All in vain, he'd failed. Out of sheer rage he slammed his foot against the ground.

"Damn it! Let it all go to hell," he screamed at the car.

He put his hand to his head and it came away covered red. He felt the deep wound above his right eye, but waved his hand as if to indicate it didn't matter.

He ran on, thinking he must be close.

He looked at one of the bushes. It can't be true.

The shape of the bush was exactly like the one he could remember. At a certain angle it reminded him of a huge bear on its hind legs. This is the right way, he thought. It's only about five hundred yards now.

He ran on as if chased by a bear. The closer he got, the more familiar things became.

Finally he stopped. The thin tree to which they had tied Emely stood before him. Its leaves prevented the morning sun from reaching the ground. All around there were those tall pine trees staring at him like numb living beings.

For a moment it seemed pointless and he wanted to run far away and never come back. This place is cursed.

He stood perfectly still, staring at the spot where she lay. Then he squatted down like a believer in front of a church altar. His knees sank deep into the soft soil and only then did he become aware of what he had come for. He quickly dug his fingers into the soil and began pushing it away in all directions.

"Hold on a bit longer, you bitch, just a bit longer," he said.

*

He was digging like a mole, with his hands. For more than ten minutes he was scratching around in panic, feeling he'd never get to her. How could I have forgotten to take a shovel?

His hands were digging so fast that sweat poured from his forehead and his T-shirt was soaking wet. As if running a marathon, he became short of breath. Oh no, he thought, she must be running out of oxygen and maybe it'll be too late. Maybe there's no helping her.

He dug even faster. "Not long now, Emely," he said, hoping she could hear him.

A sudden burning pain in his hands meant he must have hit a sharp stone or something similar. It didn't matter because his pain was nothing in comparison to the suffering she must be going through. He kept going, spitting out the soil that occasionally flew into his mouth.

He had nearly run out of strength when his nails finally touched the rough wooden surface of the coffin.

With bleeding hands he removed the last remnants of soil from next to the coffin's edge that was stopping him from opening it. Hysterically he grabbed the planks, trying to force them open. It was horrible. He was nearly there, but the coffin lid would not budge.

He got up and took a few breaths to calm himself. With a dirty hand he wiped the sweat off his forehead. John felt along the edges of the coffin, looking for the fastenings. He had to dig more soil out to get to them. Finally he made it. Then he jumped out of the grave.

He lay down so that the upper part of his body was over the edge of the grave and he was able to get hold of the top of the coffin. It kept sticking for a while, until it finally came open. Nervously, he lifted it off slowly and looked at Emely's dirty face. He stared at her for a while, then gulped, and carefully stepped in. Gently he lifted her out of the coffin and laid her on the ground a few yards away.

Her skin was alabaster. There was no sign of life. Hesitantly he touched the vein on her neck with his left hand, hoping to feel a pulse. "Damn it, she's dead."

He swiftly moved his hand away as if she were red-hot. Jumping back, John grimaced with disgust, thinking, I have to bury her again right now.

He put his hand on his mouth because the contents of his stomach were beginning to rise. He couldn't bear to look at the dead body. Without thinking, he bent over her, lifted her, and carried her back to the grave. Before putting her in, he had to drop her on the ground because the pressure in his stomach became too much.

He ran a few feet away and, bending over, vomited spasmodically. Tears streamed out of his eyes from the straining. He wiped his face on his sleeve and returned to the body. The thought of having to lift her again repelled him.

"What?" He wasn't sure whether he had only imagined it or really did see a finger on her right hand move. Frozen with astonishment he stared at her with his mouth open. He came closer, wanting to touch her but at the thought that perhaps she really was dead, he couldn't do it.

I just imagined it. It's impossible that she's still alive, he told himself with a slight smile that soon vanished. He bent over to lift her, but something kept stopping him from touching her. Not knowing what to do, he stared at her and kept swallowing saliva.

He looked at her abdomen. He had a feeling it was moving but couldn't believe it. Maybe she really is breathing. Gathering his courage, he moved closer. As if she were contagious, he touched her carefully ... only to feel a slight twitch in her finger. A shallow exhalation came from her mouth.

"Emely!" he shouted in joy, and put her hand into his. In spite of her dirty face he suddenly found her unbelievably beautiful.

Another twitch in her finger. Now he was certain there was still life in her. He kissed her forehead, face, and her lips. Then he hugged her. "The bitch is alive, she's alive."

Chapter 6

_________________________

John lifted her gently and carried her to the vehicle. Damn it, how will I get her home?

Laying her down a few yards away from his SUV, he scanned the area to look for a strong branch. He was lucky. Not far away he found one that was the right size and strong enough.

After pushing it under the side of the car he leaned against it with all his strength. The vehicle lifted, but not enough to balance over onto its wheels. Once more he grabbed the branch at the end, took three deep breaths and pushed, grunting loudly. He began to think it would all be in vain, and nearly despaired. But in the end, the vehicle righted itself.

He put the unconscious Emely on the backseat, turned the ignition, and drove off with relief.

He drove slowly past the tall green pine trees and other mighty trees that were staring at him as if horrified at what he had done. In spite of everything, the car ran perfectly and about an hour later he reached the estate. When he came up to the overgrown wall, he was much calmer. The two large stone dogs by the entrance were barely visible as their heads, trunks, and paws were covered in thorny creepers. He stopped in front of the house.

As John carried her up the stairs, his feet dragged; he was exhausted. His arms were shaking from all the effort. But he could feel Emely breathing calmly and this gave him the necessary strength.

He laid her down on the bed, fastened her right hand to the metal frame, and covered her. What he really wanted most was to lie down next to her and go to sleep. For a while he watched her and then he dragged himself first to the bathroom, where he had a wash, and then to his own bedroom.

He closed the old brown drapes, as the morning sun was shining straight onto his bed. Clumsily he took off his pants and barely managed to pull off the T-shirt before he fell into bed.

Thank God, John thought. Everything happened just at the last moment. If I had got there only a few minutes later, the poor thing wouldn't have survived. He was hoping that her brain had not been deprived of oxygen for too long and that she would be alright.

Then he closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

He could see her face, dirty from the soil and immobile, her eyes closed. Her lips were dry and cracked. He turned his head to the other side and opened his eyes, not wanting to think of her.

Then his eyes closed of their own accord. The pain spread around the whole of his body, every muscle hurting. A burning sensation coursed in his hands every time he moved a finger. In spite of this he was happy and felt like a hero for completing his plan. She will be so happy I saved her life.

*

John thought he had been asleep for about an hour when he heard a dull thud. He opened his eyes and listened. It sounded like the front door had opened and closed. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs.

He catapulted out of bed, throwing off the blue cover. His heart that had only a few seconds earlier been beating in a slow, regular rhythm, was now racing.

Before opening the door of his room he had to pause for a moment because he felt dizzy from springing up too quickly. The next moment the weakness turned to rage. He realized who was creating all the noise.

He opened the door swiftly.

Chapter 7

_________________________

Ronald stood there. "John, what's happened?"

"I ..."

"Your car is all damaged. Were you in an accident?"

John put his hands on his throbbing head, confused, trying to think what to say. He was not sure that Emely really was lying in the room. The whole thing seemed like a terrible nightmare. He looked at his watch. It was 6:00 p.m. Then he glanced downstairs, making sure that Ronald had not brought his wife with him. He felt so dazed that he nearly fell.

"When I couldn't get to sleep, I set off for home. But I was unlucky and hit a large tree root and my car turned onto its side."

He looked toward the room where Emely lay. The door was closed. He backed away, hoping Ronald would follow. "I spent over an hour getting the vehicle back on the wheels, by which time I was so dirty and tired that I just came back here again."

"I can see, you left mud everywhere." He pointed to the bits of soil that trailed all the way to Emely's room.

"And why have you come back?" John asked Ronald, keeping the reproach out of his voice.

"I left my briefcase. Damn it, I don't know where I put it." He looked around. "Have you seen it?"

"No!" John said sharply.

Ronald walked to one of the rooms and opened the door. He went to the next room, frowning. "Where could I have left it?"

John looked helplessly on as his brother was getting closer and closer to Emely's room. He's sure to go in there too. I've got to do something. This time he won't spoil my plans.

"I wouldn't have come back," Ronald said while examining the interior of the fourth room, "if I didn't urgently need some papers that are in my briefcase." He stopped for a moment and scratched his chin. He looked at John. "Oh, I know," he said with a nasty smile, "I probably left it in the room where I watched Emely while she slept."

"I don't think you did," John said, clenching his fist.

Ronald grabbed the door handle and turned it.

John shouted, "Stop!"

"What!"

"I've just remembered. You left it in the guest lounge when we drank coffee yesterday." John approached his brother, almost shouting, "You do remember, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, I think you're right." He stood motionless for a few moments, his hand still holding the door handle. Then he smiled.

He pointed at the old wooden banister. "The paint's peeling off. It needs repainting." He looked up. "The walls are dirty too. Everything's falling apart. What do you think? Should we try and sell this place?" Ronald stepped closer to John. "You seem a bit pale." He came even closer. "Are you feeling alright? Do you want me to take you home?"

"No, no," John said, taking an angry step back. He felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. He was so angry and afraid, he could barely breathe. Drops of sweat appeared on his forehead. He wanted to say something else, but changed his mind as he knew it would come out as a stutter.

"OK, but I'm telling you, you really don't look too good." Ronald spent a few more moments looking at him before he set off downstairs to the lounge.

*

When he found his briefcase next to the couch, he smiled. "Thank God. I'll make us some coffee. You certainly need it." He went to the kitchen.

John irritably watched his brother rummage through the kitchen cupboards. "I don't want any coffee," he shouted angrily.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I didn't want any coffee." He adjusted his belt, which was annoying him, and then followed his brother into the kitchen. "I've got a stomachache and don't want anything."

"I see. ... You do look a bit edgy." Ronald looked down for a few moments, then up again into John's eyes as he came closer. He put his arm around John's shoulders and squeezed lightly. "You know, John, what we did last night was a just act. Every deception must be punished. I'm in shock too, but I hide it well."

All the hair on John's hands stood upright while his brother stroked his neck.

"I know you're in shock and that's perfectly normal. But believe me, it'll all be over in a few days. Don't think about it too much." He patted John's right shoulder.

Suddenly a creak could be heard from upstairs.

Ronald tilted his head and listened. "I think I heard something." He took a few steps toward the stairs and listened for a few moments.

Meanwhile, John started rummaging in drawers, deliberately making noise.

"Quiet, John, damn it." Ronald turned his head in different directions.

John wiped the sweat running down his face.

"Oh well," Ronald said with a wave of his hand. "This damn place really has had it. A few more years and the rats will have eaten it. I'm gonna have to take some time to come here and deal with that vermin."

John breathed a sigh of relief. He pushed the drawer closed, but not completely. He knew those sounds were not made by rats. Emely was regaining consciousness. I've got to get rid of my brother before something really does go wrong.

He looked around nervously, trying to think of something to say that would make him leave. If Emely made another noise, Ronald would recognize it.

"As I said, I'm in a hurry. Call me when you get home," Ronald said, and left immediately.

John followed him out in a daze, unable to believe that he was really going. Feeling stiff, he watched Ronald's vehicle announcing its departure by blowing clouds of smoke out of its tailpipe.

When the car was completely gone and only a remote noise made by the diesel engine could still be heard, John ran upstairs. Emely is awake.

He opened the door swiftly and saw that she was sweating and shivering with fever. Her head kept moving left and right, her eyes were closed, and her forehead was damp with perspiration. She was making incoherent noises through slightly parted lips.

John spent some time staring at her, surprised and helpless. He had never in his life had to take care of anyone. He watched her for a few more seconds, then went to get a bowl of warm water and a cloth. Slowly and carefully he wiped her face and since she still did not wake up, he continued by mopping her hands and legs.

Gradually she calmed down and fell into a deep sleep. He covered her and went to the room next door to pick up another duvet. He sat on her bed and watched her for over half an hour, afraid that what was now regular breathing would once more turn into wheezing and crying. Let the poor thing sleep and rest.

Then he left the room and went to the kitchen for some food. He opened a large can of baked beans and tipped it into a pan. Only when the intoxicating smell of food arose did he become truly hungry. He quickly opened another can to double the portion. He had not felt this hungry for a long time and his stomach was protesting noisily. Normally he would never eat anything from a can, being a real gourmet and focused on healthy eating. But he had no choice now. When he had run down the stairs earlier, he'd thought about fresh vegetables and a nice piece of meat. As he entered the kitchen and looked in the cupboards he realized that he would not be able to wait any longer. His body demanded food, healthy or not; the only thing that mattered was that it would satisfy his hunger.

When the beans were ready, he ate them out of the pan, paying no attention to the sauce running down his chin. Baked beans had never before tasted so good. Even in a Mexican restaurant. What a relief! When he had finished he wiped his face on a paper towel and sat on a kitchen stool. He looked at the shabby cupboards until his eyes stopped on a drawer. This thought made him jump up. Ronald could come back again. Where can I hide Emely?

He went to the attic first. With difficulty he pulled open the old, heavy door on which a rusty metal ring hung in place of a doorknob. Zillions of tiny particles of wood from the door had scattered onto the floor, telling him termites had been at work.

He went in slowly. Thick cobwebs at least a decade old clung to his head. He kept blowing and waving them away in disgust. To his surprise the old yellowed light bulb still worked and he was able to have a good look around the room, which was full of old junk.

He spotted an old-fashioned record player with a collection of records, which reminded him of his father, who used to listen to these same records every night. Next to the record player, an ancient black bicycle rested on completely decayed tires. John had used this bike to ride along the forest paths when he was six years old. He glanced at the familiar gardening tools and cans of green and brown paint which could barely be seen under all the cobwebs. Old cupboards on legs and a few other pieces of kitchen furniture took up one corner. His attention was also attracted by huge metal pots, their edges completely rusty, in which his mother used to make delicious jams.

No, this place isn't suitable for Emely. He closed the door and brushed the dust and cobwebs off his T-shirt and pants. Then he went down to the basement. As soon as he inhaled the cold air that smelled of damp rot, his body shuddered. Even as a child he had never liked the cold basement. He could spend no more than ten minutes in there when his father occasionally sent him down to get a bottle of wine.

If monsters and ghosts do exist, they must live in this basement, he had often thought. That dark place was the source of all his nightmares. He could never understand why such a large place should have only one light bulb. There were other lights in there, but only one of them ever worked. His father had never replaced the others. John had always hated it.

But now he went down the narrow steps, waving his hands in front of him to remove the cobwebs. The visibility was low, as the only working light was covered with sticky dust. The dirty steps led to the wine cellar that was stocked with empty bottles and huge wooden barrels. He noticed a few brown bottles that were still full of wine and he wondered about their value. He sniffed the air that was suffused with the sour smell of wine mixed with dust, which irritated the mucous membrane of his sensitive nose.

He set off down a narrow corridor measuring at least five yards, and noticed on his right the doors leading to smaller rooms. They were also filled with all sorts of junk. There was the wooden dog kennel made by his granddad. His heart ached as he remembered a cocker spaniel that used to follow him around when he was a child. They were best friends. How come he had never got a dog later in his life? I don't have the time anyway, he thought. A toy merry-go-round also attracted his attention.

He came to the end of the corridor and opened a heavy, creaking wooden door. Before him lay a room that he had completely forgotten about. When he was a child he was always afraid of this room and it never entered his head to visit his dad when he had withdrawn from his family in there.

John examined the old bookcases along the walls that were still full of books. He opened a few drawers and saw all sorts of tools. The room was a combination reading room and workshop. This will be suitable for Emely.

Satisfied, he returned to the kitchen and made some coffee. He took a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a shopping list.

Chapter 8

_________________________

John was speeding down a narrow tarred road, singing to himself. He was aware that he was driving too fast; the road was wet and slippery due to the rain that had started falling. It had been a long time since he was in such a good mood. He leaned forward and looked at the sky. Although it was darkening, the sun was still shining with a soft and warm light. On his right, the sky was becoming leaden-gray and the horizon black. It looked as if the still scarce raindrops would soon turn into a downpour. But this didn't bother him. He was humming a tune that had been going through his head since the morning, when he heard it on the radio. In order to reach the town sooner, he pressed even harder on the gas pedal. There were so many things he had to buy. Thinking about his plan, he felt proud of himself for having had such a good idea.

In a store selling electronic equipment, a man with a mustache asked John, "How can I help you?"

"I'd like to buy a computer."

"Yes, of course. What type?"

"It'll be used mainly for displaying graphics, so I need a good processor and a fair amount of memory. And at least a twenty-two-inch monitor."

In half an hour, he had all the necessary equipment in his car. He made a phone call next.

"Hi, it's John." He knew his boss would not be happy to hear what he was going to tell him.

"Is something wrong, John?"

"I'd like to start my vacation tomorrow."

"That's impossible, you know how much work we have right now."

There was a deadly silence.

"I really need this. There are some things I need to sort out."

"No way, no vacation," said the male voice on the other side of the line coldly.

"In that case I'm forced to resign."

"What? How dare you! What about your notice?"

"I don't give a damn about my notice."

"What? How? No ..."

John calmly cut the line and went to a home store and, later, the nearest supermarket. He left with a shopping cart full of groceries, enough for at least a week. He sang as he drove back.

The rain had nearly stopped and it seemed to be brightening up. The horizon was blue again and the first orange rays of the setting sun were already peeping out from behind the dark clouds.

As soon as he reached the house, he ran upstairs to Emely's room. He went in expecting her to be asleep. But to his surprise, she was awake and she stared calmly at him.

"Emely?"

She said nothing. Not a muscle on her face moved. It was as if she wore a rubber mask.

"How are you feeling?"

Still nothing. He looked at her thin, pale hands lying at her side and for a moment he doubted she was still alive. Not a finger moved. The only sign of life were her shining eyes, boring into him.

He had to look away because he couldn't stand it. He was beginning to feel embarrassed. There was something in those eyes. He could sense immense hatred, as if she could kill him with a look. He sat on her bed and shook her slightly.

"My God, Emely, are you alright?"

She spit in his face like a snake. "How can you mention God after what you've done?"

It came as such a surprise that John screamed and jumped off her bed. He looked at her with astonishment and reached into his pocket. "Damn it, I knew you were up to something."

Then he laughed, pulled a wrinkled handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped off her saliva. He folded the handkerchief twice and put it back in his pocket. He grabbed her by the neck. "Listen, you bitch. If it weren't for me, you'd have been dead long ago. Which doesn't mean you won't be."

"What do you want?" she asked dryly.

"Let's do everything in the right order."

He let go of her neck and stroked her face. Then he got up and pulled some chewing gum out of his pants pocket, put it in his mouth, and began chewing. He didn't know where to begin. "You mentioned two million dollars in a Swiss account."

"Yes, so?"

"I hope it wasn't just a figment of your imagination. Because if it was ...."

"I've told you. No one knows about it but me."

He nodded in satisfaction. "And how would you transfer the money to my account? I'm not so stupid as to think that the police aren't monitoring everything."

"I can arrange the transfer in five minutes over the phone, with a password that only I know. It's not a normal bank account, so don't worry about the police. I've kept this money for a real emergency, like a war or something."

"Good."

He went and opened the shutters on the windows so that daylight joined the light cast by the bulb. Then he adjusted the heavy drapes. Dirty dark patches appeared on the walls that had not been visible earlier.

"You'll do that tomorrow. Now I'll go make you some dinner."

Chapter 9

_________________________

Two hours later Emely heard him appear in her room again.

"Just to make things clear. My beloved brother has no idea that you're still alive. I'll prepare a room for you in the basement, where you'll be safe. Sooner or later, he'll be back and the more noise you make, the greater the chance of him coming to visit you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"You're in an isolated house, no neighbors anywhere near. It's in the middle of woods, so even if you did manage to escape, you'd have little chance of finding your way out."

He unfastened her right hand and stroked her hair. She moved her head.

He said, "All I expect from you is reasonable behavior."

Emely nodded. Calm and completely without any feelings she stared at the yellowed wall. She felt no fear, only hatred. She could not care less about that money; she just wanted to live. She wanted revenge.

Then she remembered when they had buried her. After she had regained consciousness in the coffin and became aware of where she was, she had begun banging on the wood that was constraining her. In the hope of opening the coffin she pushed against it with her legs. She tried with all the energy she had, but nothing gave. Just a bit more, she told herself, I'll get it.

She continued to bang and push. The air was getting thinner and thinner. She was breathing fast and was barely able to give her lungs the oxygen they needed. She knew she had no more than a few minutes left. A bit more and I'll manage.

She turned to the sides. Instead of trying to push, she began to pull the planks toward her. There must be a way of getting out.

Her chest was beginning to feel tight, but still she did not give up. I can do it ...

And then suddenly all her suffering was over. Instead of the darkness around her, a wonderful light appeared. She could no longer feel her body; it did not belong to her anymore. She felt like a bud of cotton wool carried by the wind. She looked around and saw a pleasant white light everywhere. There was a particularly warm glow in front of her and she was slowly being carried toward it. It was like approaching a large light bulb, which was not hot or menacing, but attractive and calming.

John adjusted the collar on his shirt.

"And when will you let me go?"

"I suggest we go to the dining room. I've made us a wonderful dinner and it's getting cold."

"So?"

"Let's take things one at a time. I'll tell you about my plans for you."

He gave her the clothes she had been wearing when she was kidnapped, all freshly washed. Only now did Emely become aware that she was almost naked.

"Get dressed. I'll wait outside the door."

After they sat down at a huge wooden table, she was surprised at all the food. From the covered ceramic dishes wafted the smell of roasted meat and cooked vegetables. Two places were set with expensive plates and silver cutlery. John uncovered one of the dishes and a cloud of steam rose from it, drops of condensation gathering on the edges of the lid.

"Vegetable soup. It'll do you good."

Even though the food smelled wonderful and she was hungry, she didn't feel like eating. All she wanted was to find out what his intentions were.

"Come on, get some soup."

They ate in silence. Using a large spoon she ate the soup with bits of vegetables and chicken floating on top. It was tasty, but Emely's thoughts were elsewhere. She looked at John with anger as he passed her a plate with a large veal cutlet and potatoes. She wanted to grab the plate and throw it against the wall. But she controlled her impulse and cut into the meat with her silver knife. To her surprise, the meat was tender and delicious, interestingly spiced.

John added salad, with a yoghurt dressing. For dessert, he served a Napoleon pastry with caramel sauce.

"This was very good," she said without feeling, hoping that he'd finally begin talking.

"Thank you. Cooking is one of the things I'm good at," he said, lifting his head in pride and unbuttoning his shirt collar. "I'll make us some coffee." He went to the kitchen.

Emely looked around the huge room which was obviously intended only for dining. There were stuffed boar and stag heads on the walls. There was even a bear's head. Clearly there's no shortage of wildlife in these woods, she thought. The tall windows were draped in blue velvet curtains. She wondered what it was like outside.

From the kitchen, John said, "My dad was a hunter. We often used to come here."

She could not care less who his father was. She just wanted to get away, go home, as soon as possible. She wanted revenge.

"Once he was attacked by a bear," John said, taking his seat. "Luckily he was very athletic. He ran down the hill and got away—"

She said, "Listen, I'm really not interested in what happened to your father. What I'd like to know is what's happening to me."

"Instead of coming home all scared because he had just managed to escape the paws of a grizzly, he was filled with revenge and decided he would get at least one bear. And seven months later he did. You can see its head on your right."

Irritably she once more looked at the motionless head, and clenched her fists.

"Considering we'll be spending quite some time together, there will be plenty of opportunities to tell you more about my family."

"What do you mean, we'll be spending quite some time together?"

He leaned against the tall back of his chair and his face grew serious. "Just so that you're clear. If you think that you can redeem yourself with a lousy two million, you're very mistaken."

She stared at him in horror.

"Our company that you took over was worth much more. Considering you're such a renowned expert in securities, it won't be a big problem for you to turn the two million into ten. Have I made myself clear enough?"

"What? What do you think I'll do?"

"Quite simple. I'll get a room ready for you in the basement that will serve as your bedroom and study. The computer I've bought will be connected to the Internet, but because of the special filters you'll only be able to see specific sites that show stock trading. You won't be able to communicate with the world."

Emely looked at him with dismay. She was becoming nauseous. This man is insane. "Impossible. If I wanted to make ten million dollars out of two, I'd need at least two years, and that's with a lot of luck."

"So?"

"What do you mean, so? I can't live in a basement for two years." Her face flushed and the corners of her lips were trembling. "Besides, I'd have to trade with the highest degree of risk. That means I'd have to speculate exclusively with shares that bring the highest return, meaning the most risky ones." She grabbed the edges of the table with her hands and leaned forward as if she wanted to convince him with her body about the gravity of what she was about to say. "I'd have to buy only the shares of smaller and medium-sized companies, the so-called gazelles."

"What?"

"Gazelles are fast-growing companies with a high return. They are smaller companies turning into medium-sized ones that later change into a joint-stock company. Due to their success, the value of their shares grows exceptionally quickly. If I wanted to increase the capital by more than 400 percent, which is what you're asking for, it would mean speculating only with these shares, but this involves the highest risk."

"And where's the problem?"

Emely could not believe that she was dealing with such an idiot. "The problem is in the fact that these companies are very unstable. They invest their capital in very risky deals. Today they're making a profit and tomorrow they may be bankrupt. Almost all financial institutions invest their funds into the shares of large companies which bring in less profit but are much more stable."

John covered his mouth as he yawned widely. Then he stretched his arms. "All this is way too complicated for me. All I want is the ten million you took from me. When you've repaid your debt, you'll be free, I promise. But until then ...."

"No! I can't spend two years in your damn basement."

He got up quickly, took two steps toward her, and slapped her face. "You ungrateful bitch. Let me remind you that only a few hours back you were about to leave this world forever and begin to rot. I'm not asking for anything more than what you took from me. Do you want me to call my brother?"

"No, John," she said through tears. "I'll do everything you ask."

"That's much better." He stroked her hair and wiped her tears with his index finger. "I knew you could be a good girl."

Chapter 10

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Because there was a chance Ronald might come, Emely had to spend the next day in the attic while John was preparing her new room in the basement. All that time, she kept looking for an opening through which she could slip and gain her freedom. The fact that the house was at least thirty feet high didn't bother her; she would find a way of climbing down. What was most important was to find a suitably large gap.

The attic measured over two thousand square feet. It was filled with various junk items, which made it hard for her to get to where she wanted to be. Thick, sticky cobwebs kept attaching themselves to her face. She grimaced in disgust and sighed as she wiped her face with her hands, never quite getting rid of all the cobwebs. The worst thing was that the old yellow light bulb only threw light in one part of the attic. Three-quarters of the space was practically in darkness. She had to use her hands rather than eyes to examine the place in the hope of finding a way out. When she'd accepted that she couldn't find a suitable gap, she attempted to remove the old wooden planks separating her from the roof. She pulled with all her strength, grunting with effort as splinters dug into her hands. "This damn attic," she groaned, "there's got to be at least one way out."

Once more she launched herself at the planks, this time even more ferociously. To her surprise, she managed to remove one. Out of breath but full of enthusiasm over her success, she examined what was behind the wood, hoping not to stick her hand into some creature's jaws. What if there are poisonous spiders in these woods? she thought. She had read somewhere that the most poisonous spiders in Australia often live indoors, in attics and basements. She pulled her hand out immediately.

But this isn't Australia. She tried to remember if anything poisonous did live in these parts. Looking at the light bulb, she thought how to direct more light at the opening she had just created. After a while she reinserted her hand into the dark space. Only a few inches away she felt some damp, artificial material that she thought must be the insulation under the roof tiles. If I could penetrate that with something solid .... She began looking in the cardboard boxes overflowing with various materials. When she pulled out some old clothes, dust spread everywhere and made her cough. Every box was covered with a thick layer of it and the heavy boxes often slipped from her hands. In some of the boxes she found old glass jars obviously intended for pickling. One of the boxes fell from her hands and the glass made a clanking noise. She put her hand on her mouth in fear that the noise might attract John's attention, but forgot how dirty she was and now began spitting and wiping her lips on her sleeve. "Oh, let it all go to hell."

She searched nearly all the boxes but couldn't find a suitable metal object with which she would be able to break the thick material that was preventing moisture from penetrating the house. She tried jabbing at it with plastic and wooden objects, but they were not sharp enough. In the end she collapsed onto an old mattress. The tears that she had until then managed to keep back—although they had been gathering in her eyes ever since John had shut her in there, and which she did not want to wipe with her dirty hands—now ran freely down her grimy cheeks and she began crying hysterically.

Chapter 11

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"What's happened to you?" John asked.

She straightened up in a flash.

"You look as if you've climbed down a chimney. You're filthy. It's clear you've been trying to find a way out."

Emely was looking at the floor, hoping he would not hit her again.

He took hold of her hair. "I told you how to behave in this household. Do you want me to tell you again?" he said as he came so close to her face that she could feel his breath.

"I don't think it's necessary," she said calmly.

"Good."

He gave her a cell phone. "It's time for you to arrange that money transfer."

Obediently she took the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

John whispered into her ear, "If you get the police, you'll find yourself in the woods again."

"I understand."

He shoved his bank account number in her face.

After talking to the bank she cut the line, looked down at the wooden floor, and said in a weary voice, "The money will be in your account in three days."

"Great," he said in satisfaction, and immediately went back down to the basement.

As Emely had watched him leave she felt such hatred as she had never experienced before. Without a thought she could have stuck a long knife in his back so that he would spend a long time writhing in pain in front of her. She would be all too glad to press the trigger of a gun if she had one and riddle his head with bullets. If she had some acid, she would pour it on him and watch his body turn into an unrecognizable heap. Not only did she want to kill him, she wanted him to suffer in the way that at least vaguely resembled her suffering when she was shut in the coffin. All her muscles tensed as she thought about all the ways of hurting him, if only she could overpower him and make him be the one who had to obey her.

I must get away. These words kept going through her mind. When she was not crying, she was devising a plan of escape. She dared not even contemplate what lay ahead and directed all her thoughts to her salvation. She knew that if she started thinking about those close to her, she'd never stop crying. I'll start feeling sorry for myself and it'll only make things worse. I won't stay here for more than five days.

She didn't care if there were thick woods all around. All the better. If she could somehow manage to get out of the house, no one could find her. Dark, dense woods can be a good hiding spot. They can't be so big that I would not find my way out eventually. I'll walk for days if necessary and get to a road somehow.

She decided to use the first moment when John was not paying attention and hit him with a large object. Knock him out and then I'll escape.

There were all sorts of objects in the attic which she could use to stun or even kill him with a single blow. She looked around to see if there was a blade of some kind. It was full of toys and furniture, but nothing sharp. She took a small piece of wood and waved it in the air a few times, gritting her teeth as she imagined hitting John's head.

I can't last two years in here. Even if I manage to increase the capital the way he wants me to, I doubt that he would really let me go. Maybe he'll ask me to double the amount. Once he gets the taste for money, he'll only pull the reins even tighter.

She was more and more convinced that she had to do something sooner and again waved the piece of wood.

Chapter 12

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In the evening he came up again. "So, sweetie, it'll do for now."

With her right hand Emely reached for the wooden stick she had hidden under the mattress. She had thought at least a thousand times about what she'd do when he came and decided to hit him just above his neck. She began trembling with fear as she was about to squeeze the wood with her right hand, when he grabbed her left hand and pulled her like an old sack.

"Hurry up, I haven't got much time."

Helpless, she looked back at the lost opportunity. She awkwardly followed him down to the basement.

The heavy door creaked, drawing attention to the rusty hinges that were barely still performing their duty. The strong smell of rot almost made her heave. A dark, frightening space appeared in front of her. The thought of having to go down the steep narrow steps that descended into the darkness seemed all but attractive. He could push her and she'd tumble down and remain lying at the bottom, dead. No one would find her then.

"No, I don't want to go down there," she shouted, grabbing hold of the doorframe.

"What, you think you're in a hotel?" He pulled her arm so violently that she immediately knew his fingers would leave bruises on her skin for a few days. And yet she continued to scream and fight. He kept dragging her behind him.

The heavy wooden door to the room was additionally strengthened with some metal and a lock. He opened it and pushed her inside. "As punishment, you don't get any dinner tonight."

She looked at the damp walls ... not a single window. The only source of light was a bare light bulb hanging from a bent wire.

"No, I can't stay here!" she screamed as loud as she could.

She turned around, avoided him deftly, and began running along the dark corridor. She managed only a few steps when he caught her and dragged her back, writhing and screaming like a wild animal. It was clear she was breaking down.

"Listen, you spoiled bitch. I know you're used to big, luxurious rooms. I know very well that you'd like a Jacuzzi and silk sheets on your bed. But you'll get none of that here, regrettably."

She beat on his chest.

"Calm down, will you! You'll get used to it in a few days. It's your new home, like it or not." He threw her on a wood-framed bed, which creaked noisily.

Emely turned around, wanting to get up.

"Be still!"

She stood up, just wanting out of that basement.

"I've had enough of you now."

He slapped her so hard on the face that everything went dark for a moment. John pushed her back onto the bed. She sobbed, then began screaming again, angry and frightened. She hated being underground and he was forcing her to live there.

Chapter 13

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Moaning loudly, she wasn't even aware that he had left long ago. She lifted her head, which she had pushed deep into the pillow, and began looking around the room. It measured about fifteen feet by twelve. In addition to the bed, there was a closet and a writing desk. She sat on the edge of the bed and put her foot in a big bowl. "Oh no," she groaned. "Does he really think I'll use a chamber pot?"

There was a basin in the room. She turned on the tap and water did actually come out. She rinsed her dirty face and hands. Next to her bed she noticed a small electric heater. "I can't last more than a week in this hole." She put her head in her hands and began crying again.

"I mustn't panic," Emely told herself. "I have to think clearly. In a few days, I'll be out of here."

She lifted her aching body in order to find something she could hit him with when he came next time. He's sure to have missed a hard object in here. She looked under the bed and grabbed a leg to check its thickness. No, I wouldn't be able to do much with this. Then she opened the closet that was, to her surprise, empty. There was nothing hard and usable on the desk either. Perhaps I could grab the heater and hurl it at him, she thought, but had to admit it was not the best idea. She checked the door that separated the room from the basement corridor. First she pushed lightly a few times, then more strongly, but the door did not yield. She felt panic rising inside her again. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she shoved the door a few more times so that the metal hinges creaked. She was increasingly becoming aware of the fact that there was no way out. However hard she tried, she couldn't stand the tension that had been growing inside her from the beginning. She threw herself on the bed, crying hysterically, screaming and banging her arms and legs as an expression of her fear and sadness and helplessness and rage. Not often in her life had she been so utterly powerless; she always had everything under control and that was what she was used to.

She cried until her screams turned into quiet sobs, intermingled with little moaning noises. She began to shiver with cold and covered herself with the heavy cover. Pressing her knees to her chest and putting her arms around them, she remained in this position, lamenting her situation, and finally fell asleep with the light still on.

Chapter 14

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In the morning, Emely felt much better. Looking at her Chopard watch, she thought, The police must be looking for me by now. She got up and did a few squats and then turned her body left and right twenty times. Her thoughts were racing all the while and she had to try hard not to become depressed again. She decided to do a few pushups too. Afterward, she went to turn on the tap and out came ice-cold water.

Slowly she put her hands under the stream, gritting her teeth. She washed her face, smeared from all the tears of the day before. Crying won't get me anywhere. I have to act soberly and carefully.

The chipped mirror above the basin reflected wrinkles that she had never noticed before. I must be nicer to John. Only when he trusts me and gets more careless will I be able to seize the opportunity.

Once more she rinsed her face, rubbing it hard. She took the new toothbrush that stood next to the toothpaste. Yes, that's what I'll do, wait for the right moment.

*

John appeared at nine. He said: "I can see you got up early. I'll take you to the bathroom, where you can have a shower while I fix you some breakfast."

She was about to get up to indicate she was ready when he took her hand and said, "I'm warning you, if Ronald comes and hears you, I won't be able to help you!"

She looked at him obediently, nodding. As she was about to leave the room, he squeezed her right shoulder. "The noise of his car can be heard from far off. For additional security I put an alarm on the gate which will announce his arrival in time." He pointed at the small loudspeaker in the corner, which she had not noticed. "When that happens, you must remain down here, perfectly silent. Have I made myself clear?" He was looking her in the eyes. "Although I doubt he'll turn up soon. Ronald has never liked this house."

She nodded.

When they came to the ground floor, she was glad to see something different. There was no smell of dampness and the house seemed nice and light. She looked out of the window and noticed the wonderful but overgrown garden. Obviously the house has been neglected, she thought.

The warm water on her skin gave her additional energy. She sighed with pleasure, taking her time and spending over twenty minutes in the shower, soaping herself twice thoroughly, as if wanting to wash off all the unpleasantness. She also washed her hair and was surprised to see a brand-new hairdryer. He must have bought it for me.

During the substantial breakfast, they barely spoke. Finally, while they were drinking coffee, he offered her a sheet of paper and a pen.

"Write down everything you need," he said. "Also give me your size and I'll buy you some clothes."

"OK."

Every time he asked her something, she responded politely and then looked away. She was afraid of him and didn't want to either irritate or attract him with her eyes. She was aware that he found her attractive and it was only a matter of time before he came on to her. At the thought of this she began trembling, telling herself, I must be cautious.

She examined her surroundings. The objects she might be able to use as a weapon attracted most of her interest. A long metal poker next to the fireplace in the adjacent room held her attention the longest. Looking at the thin handle, she imagined John collapsing helplessly, shielding his head with his hands against her blows, yelling in pain, begging for her to stop, but she refused to and kept going until her strength began to fade.

"Emely!"

"Yes?"

"What were you thinking about?"

"About which shares it would be best to invest in."

"Aha. That's something I won't interfere with." He took a last sip of coffee and got up. Emely responded instantly and jumped up in order to prevent him pulling her again with his rough hands. In fact, she didn't want him to touch her at all.

Chapter 15

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During that day and the next, she didn't see him much, apart from at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After each meal she trembled at the thought of him appearing again, but knew that it was only a matter of time before he did. When she lay on the bed or sat at the desk, she replayed the memory of what had happened to her. She thought about it so much that it gave her a headache. When she wasn't thinking she was crying, and when she wasn't crying, she was asleep.

On the third day of Emely's imprisonment in the small, stuffy basement room, John did not appear until midday. Emely had already done an hour of fitness training and stretching. She boxed and kicked as if getting ready for a military operation. Then she began to wonder where John could be since she was getting hungry and needed the toilet so badly that she had already glanced at the chamber pot angrily a couple of times.

When he came in she noticed his face was glowing. Clearly, he was in a good mood. She also saw that he had bought a new pair of pants and a T-shirt. He was carrying three full plastic bags.

"The money is in my account," he said, and threw the bags on the bed. "I didn't really believe it would happen until today."

"I saved it for a special occasion," she said absently. "I knew it would come in handy sooner or later."

"Oh, yes, baby!"

He pulled a CD from one of the bags and later also connected a special interface that allowed Internet access. "On this sheet, I have some instructions from a computer wiz kid telling me how to install special filters so that you will be unable to see any other sites but the ones I allow you to see, and how to stop you getting access to e-mail. I was also going to protect the whole computer with a special password, preventing you from changing anything."

While he was playing on the computer, Emely sat on the bed, feeling angry. The pressure in her bladder was increasing and so she transferred her weight from one side of her backside to the other. This fool doesn't even think about other people having needs, too. She stared at his back, digging her nails into the thick cover. First she crossed her left leg over her right and then the other way around.

"Listen, John," she said when she could last no longer, "I really need to use the bathroom."

"There's the pot there, you can piss in that," he said.

She could not believe her ears and sat helplessly on that bed with her mouth open, staring at him. What? This pervert is asking me to do it in front of him. She became really hot. "Surely you don't think ...."

The corners of his mouth began trembling until he finally burst out laughing as he looked at her stewing in anger.

If she could, she would have killed him with her look. Her eyes glistened and her lips were pressed into a straight line. Her cheekbones became pronounced, and she felt a consuming rage.

"I was joking, honey. One more minute and then I'll take you to the bathroom."

Out of sheer anger she dug her nails deep into the cover so that her knuckles turned white. She could feel the fever pulsating in her head as her hatred extended beyond all limits. She was only just able to control herself as tears pushed their way into her eyes again. No, damn it. I'll not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Gathering all her strength, she held back the tears that kept trying to find their way out and one did manage, but the rest stayed in. She quickly wiped away the stray tear with a finger and pretended everything was OK, and cooled her anger inside with deep breaths.

Then she thought, Maybe there's a hard object in one of the bags. Slowly, she stuck her hand into the first bag, which was made of very noisy material.

"Sorry, Emely. I bought the things from your list," he said without turning around as he continued installing the software. "And some clothes, so that you don't have to wear the same things all the time."

With my money, she thought.

She rummaged through all the bags, looking for a suitable object, trying to remember what she had put on the list, but due to her excitement she couldn't think straight. Why didn't I ask for a nail file? I could use that to stab him in the heart. She kept looking without caring if he saw her. If I find anything suitable, I'll strike quickly so that this bastard doesn't have the time to defend himself. She examined the last bag in despair, but to her disappointment there was nothing useful in it either. It was full of clothes, toiletries, and other small objects. Like a disappointed child she stared at the empty bags and their contents scattered over the bed.

Suddenly she looked at the reading lamp by the bed. If I hit him hard with that, he wouldn't be able to get up.

She pulled out the plug while rustling one of the bags so that he wouldn't hear what she was doing. She took the stem of the lamp and lifted it up. It's now or never.

As soon as she took a swipe, John ducked so that the lamp hit the back of the chair. Immediately afterward he turned and struck her so hard that she dropped the lamp in fear.

John threw himself on top of her. "Since you don't want to try on the new clothes I've bought you by yourself, I'll have to change you like a little girl. You're mine now and you'll do as I tell you." He began undressing her roughly.

She screamed so loud that he stopped for a moment before putting his hand on her mouth. She dug her teeth into it and he immediately let go of her.

"You can shout all you like, no one can hear you!"

She closed her eyes and grimaced in the expectation of another blow, but it didn't come. Instead he grabbed both her wrists with one hand and tore off her panties with the other. She was completely helpless. She tried to wriggle free, but he was too strong. She could hear the buckle of his belt being undone and said, "Please, John. Don't do this, I'm begging you!"

Gritting her teeth, she lay perfectly still as he mounted her. She kept resisting but was completely helpless against his strength. She could feel him move in a strange way on top of her while she kept trying to slip away.

But to her surprise, he got up after a minute, swearing. She opened her eyes in fear and saw his manhood in a flaccid state.

He fastened his pants without saying a word and left the room.

Chapter 16

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That evening John got very drunk and drove into town at great speed. He chose an Asian woman with large breasts. The moment they entered the hotel room, he roughly pushed her onto the bed, took off his pants, and began humping her like a rabbit.

"Slowly!" the woman screamed. "I'm not ready yet." She pushed him away, but he slapped her hard twice.

"Please, don't," she said loudly.

"Shut up!" He was thrusting so hard that he had a feeling the metal bed frame would give in.

"I hate women," he said, groaning, before his body shuddered with a spasm.

While he was getting dressed five minutes later, he threw a bundle of banknotes in her face. "And keep your dirty mouth shut."

"Yes, of course," she said, nodding and quickly picking up the scattered money.

*

The next day, John had installed a baby monitor in her room through which he was able to hear her while he was watching television upstairs. If Emely decided to buy or sell some shares, he would call his own personal broker, who would do this on his behalf. But instead, he had to listen to her moaning and crying.

By midday he had had enough. "Listen, you stupid woman. If you don't intend to do some work, you'll never get out of here. I'm telling you again you should feel lucky to be alive at all. If you don't stop sniveling this very minute and start buying shares, you won't get any food, only bread and water. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded faintly.

"Good, then start already." He slammed the door loudly.

*

John kept his promise and brought his prisoner only a few stale slices of bread and a bottle of water. He stayed in the room only as long as it was necessary and then returned to his armchair on the first floor. "If you want to use the bathroom, call me," he said in passing.

*

The next two days were not much different. John listened to Emely's crying and had to turn off the baby monitor several times when it got on his nerves. She'll come to her senses, he thought. I'll leave her for a while. She can't keep crying forever.

Chapter 17

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On the fourth day something changed. First thing in the morning Emely decided that this could not go on. I won't get anywhere this way. She thought hard about her position and again decided to play the role he wanted her to play, only so that gradually he'd become careless and then she'd strike. Of course, you stupid woman, you've lost three days with all the crying. And where has it gotten you? Nowhere.

She jumped out of bed, washed her face, and brushed her teeth. Then she began warming up. I'll tell him I need a few CDs and a CD player. I'll go mad in here without music.

With the help of a chair, she performed a few exercises so that five minutes later she could feel her heart beating faster. Then she did twenty pushups. After turning onto her back, she began leg-lifts. The next fifteen minutes she dedicated to her stomach muscles and then stood up and did a few squats. After turning the computer screen off, she lifted it above her head a few times to exercise her shoulders. Lastly, she sat down and crossed her legs into a yoga position in order to do some breathing exercises. She began to feel immense energy and felt pleased with herself.

At nine o'clock she turned on the computer screen and began following the trading in specific shares. She was surprised to see that the value of some had gone up considerably while others had gone down. She then checked the exchange rate of the U.S. dollar against the Euro and looked at the European stock markets. Before she knew it, it was twelve o'clock, she had been so engrossed. She kept looking and soon found the right opportunity.

"John," she said into the monitor, "can you hear me?"

He took his time, making her wait ten minutes before opening her door.

"Buy a hundred and fifty round lots of Sony shares, now!" she said confidently.

He stared at her for a while.

"Yes, no problem, I'll do it immediately," he said, and skipped upstairs like a child.

But in spite of this, there was still tension between them. They hated one another and exchanged only the words that were necessary. They did not eat together. John brought her food down to her room three times a day and then left quickly. When she needed it, he accompanied her to the bathroom.

At first this suited her. She liked the fact that he wasn't bothering her anymore and left her alone. In the afternoons, when she was not following the stock markets, she was deep in thought, devising various ways of escaping. Soon she became resigned to the fact that this would not be so easy. Perhaps I really will have to stay in this basement for two years or more, she thought in despair, perhaps even to the end of my life.

Chapter 18

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After Robert had visited Donnovan Corporation, he had a feeling that they were mainly worried about the value of the company's shares and not so much about their CEO. In spite of this, he wrote an interesting article that focused on Emely's management skills, as had been agreed. But he wanted to find out more about her and the following day called her husband, who was away on business; yet when Robert spoke to him on the phone, he seemed very sad and worried and promised he would be happy to speak to him as soon as he returned from his trip. Next, Robert made an appointment with Emely's friend, Sally Kirk.

*

"My name is Robert Miles and I work for News Continental." He showed her his card.

"Yes, yes, come in." She pointed to the huge leather armchairs. "Whiskey, gin, cognac, or perhaps something more exotic?"

"Whiskey, please." He watched the attractive, approximately forty-year-old woman with thick hair, cat's eyes, and thin lips. An expensive necklace adorned her neck and on each hand she had at least three diamond rings. She was wearing a ruby satin dress.

Sally swayed to the glass cabinet containing over forty different alcoholic drinks.

"You see, Emely didn't have a great many friends. In fact, she really only had me," she said.

Robert pulled a small recorder out of his pocket and pressed the record button. He was surprised at the size of the apartment this woman was living in. All the furniture was new and made from the most expensive materials. Without being aware of it, the corners of his lips moved downward as he felt angry with himself for living in what was, effectively, poverty, while other people clearly had more money than they knew what to do with.

"I met her immediately after she was released from that miserable Catholic school. Heavens, it seems like a hundred years have passed since. We were both very poor. Actually, Emely inherited some money from her mother, but she barely touched it. What I'm trying to say is that we were both dependent on a very meager monthly income. I come from a rich family, but because I didn't want to do what my father wanted me to, the bastard left me without a penny for over eight years. Just imagine living for eight years as poor as a church mouse." She covered her lips with her hand so that the diamond rings sparkled and then she moved it away again.

"But in fact I'm now very grateful to my father for that terrible period. I learned how to survive."

"What happened to her parents?" Robert asked.

"From what she told me, they both died in an accident in a dye factory." Then she paused for a few moments.

"What I'd really like to hear is something from her business and love life. How did she start, for example?"

Sally lit a cigarette. "Her first proper job was with a stockbroking company. The work interested her very much and she was there from early morning to late at night. She began as a secretary ...."

*

"Emely, I'd really like you to go home now."

"Of course, boss."

It was seven in the evening.

She stretched her neck and yawned discreetly. "I'd like to finish these contracts."

"As you wish. But it's late. Promise me you won't stay more than half an hour."

"Yes, I promise." But she knew she would not keep her promise. What was there to do at home? "Just a few more minutes," she said.

When she put the last papers on the corner of her desk, it was past nine o'clock. She yawned once more and left within three minutes.

"Finally you're home," Sally said as Emely closed the door. "I've been bored. Shall we go and get something to eat?"

"You know I haven't got any money. Besides, you haven't given me back what you borrowed last month."

"Don't be difficult, you know I always give it back to you. What if we only went for a snack?"

Emely thought for a few seconds. "OK."

"I enrolled at college during my break today," Emely said while applying her makeup in the bathroom.

"What? You're going to college? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I asked at work if they were willing to pay the fees and they said yes."

"But how will you manage, you're always at work," Sally shouted, her doubts clear in her voice.

"I'll study in the morning before I go to work. I know I can manage."

"If you say so."

"I'll tell you a secret," Emely said. "I'd like to buy and sell shares. I don't want to be a secretary forever."

"But you're alright as you are, aren't you? Sitting there, shuffling papers. Occasionally you answer the phone in a friendly way. I, on the other hand, am on my feet all day long. Look how swollen they are." She pointed at her ankles.

"I know you don't have it easy in that restaurant. But you won't be a waitress forever. Sooner or later you'll inherit quite a bit from your old man."

"Oh, please, don't mention him. We've agreed you wouldn't mention that."

"OK, OK. All I wanted to say is that I want more."

Sally lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. "If you're persistent, you're bound to succeed," she said, blowing the smoke out.

"You see, nearly all stockbrokers have a degree in economics. They're all so smart."

"So you want to be a stockbroker?"

"Yes, and I will be."

"Wonderful, at least one of us will know what to do with money. Now please get dressed, my tummy is growling."

"Yup."

Emely smiled. She loved Sally, her simplicity and directness. She would never swap her for another friend.

*

"Emely, why don't you get yourself a guy?" Sally asked her in the car.

"What do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean. You're nearly twenty and you're still waiting for a prince on a white horse."

"I'm not waiting for anyone. You know I haven't the time."

"Oh, come on. What use is being a virgin at your age? I don't know who you're saving yourself for."

Emely looked out the window, not liking the direction the conversation was heading. "I'm not saving it for anyone," she said. "You know I'd go out with a guy if the right one came along."

"Then I can introduce you to Michael."

"Listen, Sally, I can find a guy myself if I want to, but I simply don't have the time for such trivial matters."

"So how come you haven't managed to find one yet? Can you tell me that?"

"There hasn't been anyone right for me."

"Oh, come on. I'll introduce you to Michael tomorrow."

Emely was getting angry at her friend, yet thought, But what if she's right? What if I remain a cold old spinster? That was not what she wanted. Maybe I should give Michael a try. She said, "What's he like?"

"Michael is a wonderful guy. You'll like him."

Emely didn't reply, but the next day regretted that she hadn't resisted more. As soon as she came home from work, she saw a tall guy, whose ears stuck out slightly, sitting next to Sally.

"This is Michael," Sally said with a smile. "Where have you been? It's half past eight. When I called you in the afternoon you promised to be home by seven at the latest."

"I had some papers to organize," Emely lied.

What she had really been doing was listening to a conversation her boss had with one of the business partners. She deliberately didn't close the door completely after taking in their coffee so that she could hear them.

She sat down. "Nice to meet you, Michael, I'm Emely," she said as they shook hands.

Sally watched them.

"I know everything about you. Sally told me."

Emely looked at her angrily.

"I'd love to stay, but I have a date with John," Sally said.

"What, you're leaving?" Emely said, looking frightened.

And the next minute, her friend was gone. To make matters worse, Michael was only a couple of feet away from her. Her cheeks went red and her head pounded.

"Where is she going so fast?" she said, not able to think of anything else to say. She was still looking at the door.

Michael said, "Sally told me you had a job."

"Yes," she said quickly.

"And that you work hard."

"Yes."

"She said she was your only company."

She gave him a strange look.

"What I meant was that you don't have a boyfriend."

"No." She was as rigid as a rock and didn't know how to behave. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what. And what she wanted most was to be left alone.

"What about movies? Would you like to go sometime?"

"I don't know."

He moved closer to her. "Well, I suppose that's something. Finally, you didn't say either yes or no."

Emely moved too, but away from him. She looked at him for a moment. He was not a bad guy, but there was something about him she didn't like. She couldn't explain what.

"Don't you want to know anything about me? Aren't you going to ask me any questions?"

She looked down and her cheeks went even redder. She was angry at herself for allowing him to derail her so much and make her act like she was fourteen.

"I work in a printing house. I'm the boss," he said.

"Aha."

He stroked her hair with his right hand and leaned toward her. Even before she was able to get up, he had stuck his long tongue into her mouth so quickly that she had no time to defend herself.

She felt terrible and pushed with her hands against his chest while his tongue wriggled around her mouth.

"How disgusting," she said. Within a second, she was free. "Go, Michael, leave this very minute."

He smiled as he said, "Finally, you start talking."

"Out! And don't ever show up here again."

"Oh well, you'll cool down soon. Even though you couldn't be any colder than you already are."

These words got to her. She cried for a long time afterward, feeling furious with Sally.

*

"I didn't know he would attack so soon," Sally said when she came home. "He was very gentle with me."

"So you've already been with him? How dare you—"

"It was nothing. He's not a bad guy, if only you'd give him a chance."

"I don't want to see him ever again."

"OK, OK."

*

Two weeks later Greg appeared. Emely came home late on Friday night, tired as usual. All she wanted was a quiet evening, followed by a long sleep. As she was climbing the endless stairs to the apartment, she heard loud laughter.

"Let me introduce Greg," Sally said as soon as Emely walked in. "He's a good friend of mine."

Emely thought, Another ex? Or her latest boyfriend?

"Come and sit with us!" Greg ordered her as if this was his home.

"Greg has been telling me about his adventures in Australia. He travels all the time, you see."

"Mmm, very interesting." Emely softened a bit. Maybe it's not a trap after all.

She sat down and joined the conversation. After a few minutes she became relaxed. Greg was good company and funny. All three laughed a lot as he told the girls about his travels. Sally soon got up and returned with three beers and tall glasses.

"No, thanks," Emely said.

"Oh, come on," Sally said. "You've been working all day long. You need to let go a little. It'll only do you good."

"No, I really don't want one."

Even before she finished speaking, thick foam appeared in her glass.

"You won't get drunk from one glass of beer," her friend insisted.

"Oh, alright then."

They got along really well. Emely had not laughed so much in a long time. At one point she realized she was watching Greg. He was medium height and slim, and she had to admit she liked him even though he had a big nose and his hair stuck up strangely. Maybe it was his chattiness that attracted her. He never ran out of things to say and always had a secret reserve of jokes.

The first glass of beer was followed by a second and a third. Emely was getting more and more relaxed. When she went to the bathroom, she staggered a little. "Ooops," she said, laughing at herself.

When she came back, Sally was gone.

"Where is she?" Emely asked.

"She said she had a date with Bill," Greg said.

"Bill? Does she have yet another boyfriend?" Then she started laughing, not caring. She felt wonderful and that was all that mattered. She could have more fun with Greg. He'd tell her jokes and stories and she'd laugh some more.

She looked at him and felt strange sensations in her body. He was so attractive. Then she became aware of her sinful thoughts and chased them away.

"So you got lost in China, you said?"

"Yes, I asked people if they could help, but no one spoke English."

Emely sat next to him, contrary to her intention of sitting opposite. A strange force made her get close to him, but she regretted it immediately. "And what did you do then?"

"I gave quite a bit of money to a boy who could suddenly understand everything and he took me where I wanted to be, on his bicycle."

"How funny." She didn't know when exactly she fell into his arms and didn't care. She felt free and relaxed. "I wonder where Sally is," she said, giggling.

"What do we need her for?" Greg said.

The next thing she knew his tongue was in her mouth. She wanted to resist, but remembered Michael saying she was cold and so she remained perfectly still, letting him do what he wanted. Her head was spinning and everything seemed only half real. In fact, there were moments when she even liked what was happening. When he lifted her and carried her to her bed, she knew what would follow, but again she didn't mind. Screw virginity, screw everything, she thought.

Greg was a gentle lover. For over an hour he caressed and kissed her body before he finally took her. She could barely wait for this to happen. It was dark and she could see very little. She felt his strong, firm body pressing on hers. His kisses no longer bothered her either and she gave in to this play of passion, thinking it was about time she became familiar with it.

*

In the morning, she had a headache. Luckily, Greg was no longer there.

"Why did you foist Greg on me?" she asked Sally as they were having their morning coffee.

"I didn't foist anyone on you. Why don't you tell me how it went, instead?"

Emely tried to remember the details of the night before, but however hard she tried, nothing much came up. She could describe every minute leading up to the moment she started drinking, but afterward it seemed as if everything had happened within a few minutes. She did remember the pleasant heat that filled her head as soon as she took the first sip and then ... complete amnesia.

She scratched the top of her forehead and could feel his teeth nibbling the inside of her thigh. How dare he go down there? How could he do something like that? And I let him. Terrible. How could I? It must never happen again. She felt disgusted with herself.

"Sally, don't bring me any more guys. I'll find one myself if I want one."

"Oh, come on, don't be so angry. All I wanted was to liven up your boring routine."

"My routine is not boring. If nothing else, I want to do something with my life. Unlike you, who spends your days lying on the terrace and changing partners like underwear."

"Enough, Emely!" Sally's face showed shock and anger. She drank her coffee, left the table, and within seconds she was gone from the apartment.

Let her go, I don't care if I never see her again. Angry tears poured when she remembered the hands that had kneaded her body. His hot lips stuck to hers and pulled at her tongue as if wanting to remove it. She could barely breathe. Her breasts had become firmer, her skin responding to the smallest touch, her body betraying her in every possible way. Damn Sally, how could she do this to me? My only friend.

Most of all, she was angry with herself for returning his passionate kisses. Emely recalled stroking his hair with her left hand and his back with her right. It made her tremble with disgust. How could I do things like that? I'll never forgive myself.

When she had looked at his erect penis, she could not help laughing. She even touched it for a moment and started giggling. Now the memory made her cry. She was disgusted with herself and what she had done; it seemed dirty and vile. She made a firm decision not to do it ever again.

*

It took five days for them to make up. Five days of avoidance and angry outbursts. Emely never thought the presence of her friend could bother her so much. What she really wanted was to tell her to move out. How could she have betrayed me so?

They walked past each other like strangers, neither greeting nor looking at each other. They were in the same room, breathed the same air, but didn't see each other. Or at least they pretended not to.

Sally was the first to say something: "Listen, Emely, I really didn't know that it would get to you like this. I was also shocked when it first happened to me, but I took it much better than you."

Emely glanced at her. "Oh, I've forgotten it all," she lied. She had rubbed her body in the shower every day in the hope of washing all that dirt from it. She would have given anything to be able to turn back the clock. But that was not an option. The worst thing was dreaming about it at night, reliving it. She woke up sweaty all over, her body shaking, and wondered what was happening to her and why she couldn't stop it.

"I would have done it sooner or later anyway," Emely said, even though she didn't mean it.

"Listen, let's go to the movies, my treat. What do you think?"

"Mmm .... Oh, why not." She was still mad at Sally, but it seemed pointless to prolong this situation. They were friends, after all, and they had never argued before. Why would she want to keep up this disagreement? All those previous days filled with hatred were enough.

When they were later sitting, drinking coffee, and Emely was listening to Sally's tales of what had happened during those five days, she had to admit she had missed her. Particularly her loud, animated voice and endless giggling.

*

Robert Miles turned off the tape recorder and pushed away from the table. He had spent some more time chatting with Sally, who told him that, later, Emely's business skills developed quickly. She started her own company, met Philip, and they got married. After that, her career path led higher and higher. Robert had thanked Sally and went back to the office.

But when he started writing the article, he found it difficult to collect his thoughts; they kept escaping to Zoya. He wanted so much to help her, but didn't know how find the money for the surgery. In spite of this, he somehow managed to make himself spend two hours working on the article.

*

Even though he was very tired, he put on a smile as soon as he entered the child care center his daughter attended while he was at work. "Where's my princess?"

Zoya opened her arms wide. "Daddy! I've missed you so much."

He gave her a big hug that lasted quite a while. He could feel her small hands caressing his neck. "I've missed you too." He looked in her small eyes that were the color of malachite, and at her lips which she pursed so nicely that it made his heart ache. She had long, curly, chestnut-brown hair and milky white skin.

Zoya started telling him about what she had read that day and Robert listened with interest. Again and again her courage surprised him. Although she had been crying more since the accident, something had changed in her at some point. She became more grown-up and optimistic. And often she was the one who reminded him that he was worrying too much and that everything would be alright.

*

When they came home, she said: "I'd like to watch a romantic movie."

"You're only eight, let's watch a cartoon instead!"

"No, Daddy. You always fall asleep in my arms if we watch a cartoon."

He gave in because she was right, and found a DVD he had rented and put it into the player.

They watched the movie, hugging, while Robert's thoughts were with Emely. He wondered what else he would find out about her and how the readers would react to her life story.

Zoya berated him: "You're miles away, worrying again. Please, concentrate on the movie."

"Yes, my princess."

He hugged her closer and focused on the movie.

Chapter 19

_________________________

The value of John's capital was slowly growing. Three weeks had passed since Emely had started trading and if John were to sell everything now, he would get two million, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, quite a profit, so he was more than pleased. Although he didn't talk to Emely more than necessary and had to keep watching her to see whether she had any more violent thoughts, silently he was admiring her intelligence. What can she see in those charts? he often wondered.

Every day when trading closed, he left the room without a word, as if Emely was not there. And he never forgot to lock the door.

*

When he realized how easy it was to make money, he bought a few luxuries. To begin with, ten new items of clothing. He no longer went to shabby bars, but looked for more exclusive restaurants for the more discerning customer. In addition, he no longer picked prostitutes from the road but ordered them from a handy catalogue in his hotel. While he was thrusting into one of them, another caressed and kissed him, cooling him down with champagne. Perfectly satiated and drunk he returned home at two in the morning.

*

One day John suddenly thought in fear that this dream would one day stop. He had promised Emely to let her go and this thought horrified him. He waved it off and smiled, thinking, I'll never let her go. He poured himself a glass of champagne and took a bite of toast with caviar. I saved her life and now she's my property.

Chapter 20

_________________________

While John was spending his money and enjoying life, Emely was terribly bored in the late afternoons and evenings and missed human company, anyone. Sometimes she even wished at least John would talk to her. Even though she hated him, he was the only person she had contact with. She no longer feared him and sensed that he would leave her alone. Clearly that last failed sexual attempt had left deep scars in him.

*

When one day the trading had finished, she said, "John, whose idea was it to kidnap me, yours or Ronald's?"

"Ronald's," he said quietly.

"And you helped him without hesitation?" she asked.

He stared into space. "Ronald is my older brother. I always thought he was much smarter and more capable than me. When I was a child he protected me against others and helped me in various ways."

Emely listened with interest.

"He was nice to me, but at the same time humiliated me. 'You may not be intelligent, but you're lucky to have a smart older brother,' he would often say. After graduation he went on to study economics while I got a job. I somehow resigned myself to the fact that college was not for me and that I wouldn't be able to pass exams."

Emely was surprised at this.

"After our father died, there was no doubt that Ronald was more than suitable to take over. I never envied him, I was pleased just to be able to help."

"You should have been more persistent," Emely told him.

"I can see that now, but then I thought differently. All my life I was never the clever one, he was. Irrespective of what he decided to do, I always followed and was loyal to him. Never ever did I doubt how smart he was."

"And what do you think about him now?"

"It's hard to say, but recently he has been annoying me. Whatever he does bothers me."

The screen showed that trading hours were over. John leaned back on his chair and stretched. "It's time for a nap."

Chapter 21

_________________________

The next day Emely began asking questions again. "How come you never married, John?"

"I ...."

"You never found the right woman?"

"No," he said dryly.

"Have you ever been in love?"

He scratched his head and smiled. "When I was at school I did fall in love a few times, but never later. I'm not interested in a serious relationship."

"I see," Emely said with a nod. This was precisely what she had thought about him. A person so completely devoid of feeling is incapable of love. That's why he's so aggressive. She said, "What about your mother? Did you love her?"

"No. My mother took no notice of either Ronald or me. Once when Dad was on a business trip, I found her in bed with another guy. I often felt that Ronald and I were a burden to her."

"What about your father?"

"He was a good man, but always away. He invested all his energy in the business. He got up before me and often came home when I was fast asleep."

Looking searchingly at his face, Emely began to think. An interesting psychological case. When she was a child, she had wanted to become a psychoanalyst. She liked listening to people and trying to analyze their personality.

"And who helped you when you had problems?"

"Ronald," he said without hesitation.

"Is he married?"

"Yes. He has a daughter and a son."

"And what about you? Didn't you want what he had?"

"No. I'm not very good with women and kids' crying gets on my nerves. No, I've never wanted a family."

"But children don't cry all the time," she said with slight irritation.

"Oh, I know, but I still don't think I would make a good father."

Emely wanted to offer him a few words of encouragement, but was unable to express herself. "Who knows, maybe you just haven't come across the right woman yet. I'm sure one day someone will set your heart on fire."

"I very much doubt that." He looked down and then immediately at her. "And you, you're married, aren't you?"

For a few moments Emely was speechless. She had become engrossed in the role of psychoanalyst and felt she should be the one asking questions.

"Well ..." She took a deep breath. "I've been married to Philip for fifteen years. Our friendship soon turned into real love and I can honestly say that I truly love him. I had a few men before him, but I can't say that I loved any of them. Before Philip, no one attracted me enough."

"I see," John said with a nod. He took a last sip of the coffee he had brought with him.

There followed an awkward silence and they both turned to the computer screen, hoping to see something interesting.

Emely reached for the pocket calculator and did a quick calculation. "I suggest you buy seven hundred Micro Investment shares immediately, but at a price of no more than four hundred and fifty dollars per share."

Obediently John picked up his cell phone to call his broker and carry out the transaction.

*

During the day they focused on the securities market and didn't say much. John wasn't exactly talkative anyway, and Emely kept thinking about Philip.

She looked at John, squeezing her fists and thinking about ways of escape. After hours of thought she was no nearer a solution. Hell, if people have managed to escape from Alcatraz I should be able to get out of this damn hole, she thought.

*

In the late afternoon she tried to concentrate on a book John had bought her, but her thoughts kept wandering. When she began dozing, John appeared. He was in a good mood and invited her for dinner. It had been quite some time since they had eaten together in the dining room. Lately he had been bringing all her meals to the basement.

"I can see you've made us some wonderful food, John. Are we celebrating something?" she asked in a friendly manner as she examined the richly laid table.

"No, we're not celebrating. It just seemed right to cook something nice. But it is true that the Micro Investment shares have gone up by 6 percent."

"John, you know they may fall again by twice as much tomorrow. The stock market is unstable at the moment." She was being extremely friendly toward him, part of her strategy. When he relaxed and began to trust her, she would attack.

She had a cocktail to begin with and then they had the appetizer, tiny slices of bread covered with cheese and cauliflower that were truly special. Emely's stomach ached from hunger so she ate quickly and was looking forward to the entree.

John brought out a stuffed turkey with new potatoes, carrots, and bell peppers.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Emely, and she burst into laughter. "Who's going to eat this huge turkey?" With her hand on her mouth she admired the roasted bird's golden skin.

"We'll manage somehow," he said.

They chatted about this and that during dinner and the atmosphere was pleasant. For dessert, they each had two slices of caramel cake with marzipan icing. Emely's elegant poise slowly faded as her stomach got excessively full.

She asked, "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

"I don't really know. I told you that Mother didn't give Ronald and me much attention and father was never at home. So I spent a lot of time with Peggy. She was our home help. She cleaned, ironed, and cooked really well. She was one of a kind."

Emely's head was resting on her hands as she became engrossed in his story. For the first time since she had been incarcerated in this house she completely forgot that she was his prisoner. "And do you ever see her now?"

John looked away. "Peggy died when I was eighteen. From cancer, poor thing, nothing could be done."

Emely felt sorry for him for a moment, but immediately remembered why she was there and her sympathy evaporated. "You know, John, I didn't get much love when I was little, growing up in a convent orphanage."

"Really? I always thought you must have been a spoiled girl, growing up in a rich family."

"Oh no, just the opposite. I was very poor."

"And your parents?"

"They both died in an accident in a dye factory. Immediately after, I was taken to an orphanage."

"Hard to believe. I would never have guessed it."

"Why?" she asked, slightly upset. "Do I seem like such a spoiled person? I worked really hard to get what I now have." She sat up straight again.

John got up and poured them more wine.

"I have to thank the nuns for that. They're very hardworking and don't have any free time. Or, more precisely, they spend their free time in prayer."

"So are you a very religious person?"

"Not as religious as I should be. I haven't been to church for ages and I've shortened my prayers to the bare minimum. Often I had so much work that I used to come home so tired. After a shower, I just went to bed, began my prayers but fell asleep instantly. And so my prayers got reduced to a few sentences."

"I personally don't believe in God," he said coldly.

"What do you think happens after death, then?"

"I don't know. I think we should enjoy life as it is because when you die, there's nothing left."

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" Emely asked.

"I don't know, sometimes. I sometimes dream that I've been murdered and wake up soaking in sweat."

Emely wanted to say that she no longer knew what a good night's sleep was, but didn't want to spoil the pleasant atmosphere.

John said, "Peggy, on the other hand, kept praying. Sometimes it really got on my nerves."

"How old was Peggy?"

"She must have been around fifty. She was as thin as a rake and when she got mad she swore like a fishwife. I once said to her that she would find it hard to get to Heaven if she didn't stop swearing."

They both laughed.

"It was a nightmare where I was," Emely said with a sigh. "Nuns never swear, never argue, and any hint of perversity is totally out of the question. A boy once dropped a condom into my bag without my noticing. In the evening, one of the nuns examined my room. When she touched the rubber with her fingers and screwed up her face, I knew I was in trouble."

"So what happened?" John asked.

"I was forced to pray for several hours. The other nuns heard about it and they spent another month giving me accusing looks."

"Hard to believe."

"Yes, it is. When I left the Catholic orphanage, I felt the happiest, freest person on earth. I traveled on the subway, enjoying the thought that I could do anything I wanted. It isn't that I didn't love the sisters who took care of me, on the contrary. They gave me a lot of love in their own special way and I'm very grateful for it. But life in a Catholic boarding school is very limited and disciplined. Unless you choose it voluntarily, it can be a bit of a nightmare." Emely smiled.

They spent another hour and a half in convivial conversation and then John accompanied her to her room. Emely was slightly dizzy from the wine, so she went straight to bed and closed her heavy eyelids. After what felt like only five minutes' sleep, she was woken by the sharp sound of the alarm, signifying that John was going out.

Chapter 22

_________________________

The delicious dinner in Emely's pleasant company had filled John with renewed energy. Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He thought about Miriam, the redhead he had gone with a week earlier. It was not often that he slept with the same woman, but she was special, kissing him all over with her moist, hot tongue and caressing him with her skillful fingers. The harder he penetrated her, the louder she screamed with pleasure.

Still driving, he called her on his cell phone, excitedly anticipating her voice. But the phone kept ringing without an answer and he was about to cut the line.

"Hello."

"Hi, it's John."

"John ... which John?"

He was disappointed.

"Oh, John, we were together last week, weren't we?"

"Yes, I thought maybe we could get together again in about half an hour."

"Oh, sorry, I'm very busy. Got a client coming in fifteen minutes."

"I'll pay three times the normal price."

There was a short silence at the other end.

"OK, but in an hour."

"Great," he said.

The tall streetlights flew by him like sparks pointing the way into the city. He was impatient; the belt on his pants was digging into his stomach because of all the food and he had to undo it.

Half an hour later he sat in one of the bars in town and ordered a double whiskey with ice. He was thinking about the pleasant dinner with Emely and decided to invite her again. In fact he had never had such a relaxed and direct conversation with a woman. He felt truly great and kept pouring the whiskey into his mouth to try and quench the burning thirst. There were two girls there, chatting to each other, and he kept looking toward them. What he really wanted to do was throw a bunch of banknotes on the table and propose some sex games, but chose to order another whiskey instead. He was feeling so horny that if Miriam had said two hours, he wouldn't have been able to wait.

*

When he appeared at the door of her apartment, she threw herself into his arms and stuck her moist tongue into his mouth. He lifted her long legs and wrapped them around his waist while she put her arms around his neck. He carried her to the bedroom with ease and laid her on the red water bed. Like a wild dog he bit into her loose silky top, next to her navel, and pulled it up to her neck so that her full breasts could sway freely. He attacked them with his tongue while taking off her panties with a single pull of his left hand.

"You seem very impatient today," she whispered, and bit his ear.

He was too busy undoing his pants to be able to answer.

"Slow down, there's no rush."

When he finally penetrated her, he felt great relief and groaned with pleasure. Miriam also exclaimed, turning him on even more. Their movements increased in pace and intensity. The sounds of the water sloshing in the bed reverberated around the room. It seemed as if they were on a ship in a storm. She was screaming and he was the captain saving the ship. Unless he used all his strength, they would sink. He moved faster and was about to save them. Only a little bit longer.

But for John, things were not going as smoothly as usual. Covered in sweat, he was struggling with that big storm and was continually about to climax. Just a little longer. Hang on in there for just a little longer. His thoughts began to wander. Never before had he experienced anything like this. If he closed his eyes, the horrible pictures of Emely in that coffin appeared in his head. For a moment he thought that her dead body, covered in soil, lay beneath him. He opened his eyes and drove away those dark thoughts. He dug his fingers into Miriam's thick red hair and kissed her on the mouth. When he closed his eyes again, he saw Emely with soil in her mouth and it was her he was kissing.

Resigned to defeat, he finally gave up and wiped the sweat off his forehead, lying helplessly on his back.

"You seemed very horny at first, but it's clear you came here with your head full of problems."

John buttoned up his pants, still breathing deeply. "I must have had too much to drink." He looked around the room, thinking he must have forgotten something, and then said, "Well, it's best if I go home."

He kissed her goodbye and threw a bunch of fifty-dollar bills on the bed. On the way home he berated himself. How humiliating. It must never happen again.

When he got back home, he quickly downed another three whiskeys before going to bed. As he was falling asleep, he thought once more about the nice evening with Emely and then he was gone.

Chapter 23

_________________________

The following day was successful, businesswise. Share prices were fluctuating like never before. John was exceptionally excited while Emely carefully studied the various graphs. She explained why she thought that the price of certain securities would either rise or fall and John listened with great interest. She also told him that the fluctuations in the price could not be predicted.

"The person able to do that would be the richest person in the world. However, there are certain rules of probability that have proved useful through the years. There are over fifty of these rules, but they're only used on the stock markets in developed, democratic countries. If you wanted to trade in the shares of an Indian company, the rules would not apply."

Emely showed him the charts and told him her forecasts for some prices. John wrote it all down in a notebook in the hope of being able to use the knowledge sometime.

"But of course you must also follow all the current developments," she instructed him.

Every day they first looked in various newspapers and some specialized financial weeklies. If an article referred to Emely's disappearance or her company, John filtered it out in time.

"Every positive report on a specific company raises the value of its shares. Finding infected meat means a fall in the price of the shares of all meat factories. And then a rise when the situation settles down again. There are various financial instruments with which one can benefit from both the falls and rises of specific securities. So we can turn a profit by making use of options even when the share price is falling. There are what's known as put options and call options ...." she told him.

John had to take deep breaths, realizing he was overwhelmed by all the information. He suggested they take a short break and have a coffee, and he rushed to the kitchen, made coffee, and brought some cookies.

They were eating cookies and sipping coffee when the alarm went off, announcing someone's arrival. John got so scared that his plate of cookies fell on the floor and the coffee spilled all over his pants.

"Ronald!" he said through his teeth and ran out, only to return and look at Emely with a finger to his lips.

When she nodded, he quickly shut the door and double-locked it. He ran to the living room and lay on the couch in front of the television.

*

"How are you?" Ronald asked him excitedly as he walked in.

John stretched out lazily on the wide sofa as if to indicate he had just woken up.

"Can't complain. And you, what's brought you here?"

Ronald smiled and sat on the sofa opposite.

"Well, I got a bit worried. You never call these days, I can't get you at home, and they told me at work that you quit."

John thought about what to say. He kept listening, hoping that Emely wouldn't do something stupid.

"Don't worry, big brother, I've never been better. I was getting sick of the job and luckily I have enough savings so that I don't need to look for another one just yet." He forced himself to yawn and stretch again. "In fact, I've been thinking of maybe renting my apartment out and staying here for a few months."

"What, live like a hermit in this scary house without any contact with anyone? And without any income."

"I could easily live off the rent from my apartment. I have hardly any expenses and live modestly."

Ronald looked at the bottle of champagne and the still unopened black caviar. "If that's what you think. But it does seem a bit strange to me, so don't blame me for feeling concerned." His face took on a mild, understanding expression. "Are you sure that what we did in the woods didn't affect you? Maybe you started hating other people and now are hiding yourself away. See, John, I love you very much and I worry about you. What if we found you a therapist?"

"No, no. Don't worry, I told you I'm good. Besides, it's not true I hate people. I go to town nearly every night and have a beer or two."

"But that's not the same. You should be with your family, you know what I mean. One has to talk to someone every so often."

"I'm telling you I'm fine, never been better."

"If you say so." Ronald leaned back, watching him. "I must say you do look better, somehow. Maybe all this fresh air really is doing you good. And you haven't let yourself go. You obviously get shaved and dress nicely. Oh, that'll be it, you're in love. I can see it in your eyes. Come on, admit it."

"Oh, Ronald, you know me, never ever been in love."

"I know, but you're different this time. I can see a change in you. Obviously you've fallen in love with some girl from town."

"No, I haven't. Please, don't just draw conclusions. I'm fine. Life in the countryside does me good." John's statements were accompanied by nervous gesticulations.

"OK, if you say so." Ronald got up and began walking toward the door. "You must promise you'll call me sometime."

"I promise."

Ronald looked at the cell phone invoice that lay on top of a large porcelain figurine of a woman next to the door. "What, a bill for two hundred and fifty dollars for your cell phone? Didn't you say you were living modestly?"

"Oh, yeah, that phone keeps tempting me. In fact, I'll cancel it."

"Aha," Ronald said. "Bye, then."

"Bye, Ron."

John watched him go, while trying to control his anger. Why the hell does he have to meddle in my life? Why doesn't he just stay with that stupid wife of his and leave me alone? I'll tell him next time.

*

Twenty minutes later John was with Emely again and noticed that she was more uneasy than usual. "Don't worry, I saw him leave. Very likely he won't be coming back so soon." These words were spoken with uncertainty. He was deep in thought and absentmindedly worrying about the alarm not sensing Ronald's arrival. You can't rely on electronic gadgets, he thought. And that damn phone bill. Why did I have to leave it lying around?

He smiled at Emely and said, "There's really no reason to worry. Whenever he comes again, we'll both be ready."

She nodded, but it was clear she wasn't certain about it either.

Chapter 24

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In the evening, Emely was again invited to the dining room. Like the day before, the table was laid with various dishes and in the center there stood a candleholder with three long silver candles. Everything looked so perfect that it took Emely's breath away. Napkins shaped into swans adorned the fine porcelain plates and the elegant silver cutlery shone brightly.

"What's all this, John? The table looks ... well ... fantastic."

As if expecting praise, he smiled and walked over to the liquor cabinet. "May I suggest we have a cocktail as an aperitif?"

"Of course, John. I didn't know you could mix cocktails."

He nodded proudly. "I know how to make eighty different ones."

"Oh," she said, smiling, "you're full of surprises." She was deliberately flattering him and she could see he was relaxing gradually. He had been careless a few times now. This could be my way to freedom. She had noticed his excessive spending. If this goes on, all I'll be doing is paying for his expenses.

"I'll let you surprise me. You choose," she said in a friendly voice.

His cheeks turned red and it was clear he was as happy as a child. He took a silver metal shaker, poured into it various liquors, and mixed them by throwing the shaker from one hand to another, like a juggler. Then he crushed some ice and used it to cool two elegant glasses on long stalks. He added ice to the cocktail shaker.

When Emely tried the cocktail, she was surprised. The drink was strong, but its tropical flavor lingered for a while after the smooth liquid had disappeared down her throat. Afterward, a hint of mint appeared in her mouth. She put her hand on her heart and nodded slightly. "Fantastic flavor." She tried it once more. "Mmmm, so what is it called?"

John shrugged. "It doesn't really have a name yet. I made it up about a week ago, but completely forgot to call it something."

"Then let's call it Emely-John," she said deliberately.

John's face became even redder with embarrassment and he looked down.

Emely laughed and raised her glass. "Let's give a toast to the Emely-John cocktail."

They clinked glasses and for a moment that seemed dangerously long they looked into each other's eyes. John was the first to turn away, and he walked into the kitchen. Finally he came back to the dining room and served the beef consommé.

"It smells very good," Emely had to admit, and waited for him to sit down.

"You traded very profitably today."

"We traded," she said. "But I have to warn you that sooner or later we'll experience a loss. And not a small one. You can be lucky for a whole week and then suffer a huge loss in a day."

"Oh?" He looked at her.

"However, through the years I've developed a sixth sense and it has often saved me from such losses. When there's a big panic on the stock exchange, those who withdraw first are the ones who are saved."

The soup was followed by roast pork and vegetables. Emely had to clap her hands at the highly piled-up plates. "Who's going to eat all this?"

Tasting the delicious dish, she closed her eyes a few times. She had eaten in nearly all the best restaurants in this part of the country in the last few years but had to admit that the food cooked by John surpassed all of them.

"Mmm ... I've never had such a good roast," she said a few times. "You should open a restaurant. Have you ever thought about it?"

He stared ahead, his cheeks as red as a tomato. "No, I haven't."

"You should. All the famous people would come to you."

"Oh, come on, you're exaggerating now."

"I'm not exaggerating, you really should think about it. It's clear you cook with love and have a talent."

She noticed he was blushing and she liked the fact that he was falling under her spell. "I think many people don't use their talents fully," she added.

"Emely, do you love your husband?" he asked her directly, changing the subject.

"What do you mean? Of course I do." The conversation had been going so smoothly and now he had to surprise her with such a personal question.

"What I meant to say .... I read an article and it said that your husband is away on business a lot and that you don't see each other very much."

"We've been living together for a long time," she said, lying. She tried to remember the last time they had gone out for dinner. "And anyway, how does it matter?" She wasn't sure why his question annoyed her so much.

"Many relationships cool down after a few years and I thought this might have happened in your case, too." He looked at her with such a serious expression that her heart missed a beat.

"Well, that's definitely not true in my case," she said with tension in her cheeks.

John's gaze made her feel uncomfortable. "You're alone too," she said. "Why aren't you married?"

He smiled. Whenever he did this, she was amazed by his beautiful teeth.

"I'm not criticizing you, Emely. I think sooner or later you'll find a guy who'll make you happy."

"I have found him. Philip." She saw in his eyes that he didn't believe her and this added fuel to her anger.

And so they went on bantering until ten o'clock when Emely, feeling tired, put her hands on the table to indicate that it was time for her to go to bed.

John looked at his watch and nodded. "It is late. I'll walk you to your room."

Yes, you'll walk me, she thought angrily. And lock me in, too.

Only twenty minutes after she went to bed, the alarm went off.

Chapter 25

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John was feeling even better than the night before. It's clear that living in the country is good for me. Like every night, he was in a hurry to go to town and didn't want to waste any time. His foot pressed hard on the gas pedal. Both the engine and the undercarriage were making worrying noises. I'll buy a new car. In a month or so.

When he got to town he first went to the casino. He entered with his head raised proudly and secretly looked to see if others had noticed him. When he was buying the chips, he deliberately spoke loudly so that as many people as possible would hear him. Finally he was important and he wanted to show off. Let them stare, these rich bastards, let them stare at my fat wallet.

As soon as he sat at the first gambling table he noticed that people started whispering to each other and looking in his direction. He kept calling the waiter, ordering the most expensive drinks, often berating the boy shuffling the cards for being too slow and saying this would not earn him any money. The poor boy's hands shook so much that the cards had already scattered onto the table twice.

"Honestly, I can't believe it," John said in a harsh voice. "Hurry up and shuffle those damn cards. It's my lucky night tonight, I can feel it in my bones."

He didn't care a hoot about the winnings. What was important was that everyone noticed him and looked at him with envy. He never bet with only one chip and always used at least a fistful.

He didn't stay long at the first table and set off for the roulette. He was lucky. Every time he won, people screamed in delight. It was like watching a football game. Suddenly, two tall blondes were standing next to him, rooting for him and shrieking. John immediately ordered the most expensive champagne for them. He felt like a film star and finally realized what it meant to be rich. It was a wonderful evening. He knew he could have any of those horny women that were begging with their eyes, but he didn't desire any of them. They all just want my money, let them go to hell. If I have to pay, I'll pick a woman off the street.

After a while, the people around him began to irritate and disgust him.

At one o'clock, slightly drunk and fed up, he looked around for a woman who could finish off his evening. It was too late to make an appointment with one of the beauties from the catalogue, so he drove to his old spot where around ten scantily-dressed women were pacing the sidewalk.

He drove past slowly the first time, looking at them carefully. They all puckered their lips and stuck out their chests. When he drove past for the second time, he stopped his muddy vehicle in front of a girl who didn't look like she was much over eighteen. She kept shuffling from foot to foot, smiling, and looking at her colleagues.

When they had arrived at a hotel room twenty minutes later, the young woman admitted that she had hardly any experience. "I'm very glad you're not really old," she said, and laughed in a silly fashion.

He watched her shuffling awkwardly. "Take off your clothes," he told her.

"I beg your pardon?"

He leaned back lazily in the armchair, his legs apart. "Take off your clothes so that I can see your body."

"But there's no music."

"Imagine there is."

She began unbuttoning her skirt and swaying, with her legs pressed together, as if she needed to go to the toilet. John watched the funny scene and felt aroused. Finally, when she was naked he spanked her bottom so that the poor girl jumped onto the bed, shrieking.

John got out of the chair and nailed her to the mattress. He threw himself on top of her and took his pants off.

"Oh, you're so heavy," she said.

He rolled off her like an old log and lay on his back. "I don't really feel like it. You get on top of me."

She clambered on, then began kissing his neck and face while rhythmically swaying her behind.

The couple swapped positions, John on top. He was like a rabbit, but what he really wanted was to clear his head. His brain was tortured by images of a dead body, horrible smells, soil, and darkness. Emely, all the time. What's the matter with me? Why can't she leave me alone?

He glanced at the clock on the wall. He had been trying to climax for over three hours.

He finally began breathing deeply and shaking like an old steam engine. He huffed and puffed and was glad to have reached the end. It had been an arduous journey and he had to try as hard as never before. He would have stopped long ago but didn't want to let those wretched hallucinations spoil his evening.

The girl, on the other hand, lay there without moving. She got up like an old woman.

"Get dressed already. I haven't got all night," he said.

*

On the drive home John was deep in thought. What's happening to me? Why can't she leave me alone? For the first time he doubted his belief that God did not exist. He put his hand on his head and thought, What if this is punishment for our horrible deed? Maybe I should ask Ron if he's experiencing anything like this.

John slept badly that night. He dreamt that someone had thrown him into the sea and had tied a heavy weight to his legs that was pulling him down into the water ... but by trying really hard he was able to keep his head above the surface. So he thrashed around, holding his head high to stop water getting into his lungs. His strength was diminishing and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Finally he gave in and felt an incredibly strong pain in his lungs. He wanted to swim up and save himself but ... he wanted to scream .... And then he woke up. Breathing heavily and covered in sweat, he stared at the ceiling for a while.

When he closed his eyes again, he found himself in a dark grave next to the dead Emely. He wanted to lift her and pull her out, when soil began falling on top of them—large quantities of soil. Who's trying to bury me?

He wanted to climb out but the soil was too heavy. His mouth was dry with dirt and he was running out of air. He began shouting.

Chapter 26

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The next day, John had to sort some things out at home. When he went into his apartment he found it empty and strange, as if he had never lived there. For the first time he became aware of the lack of any daylight in there, the furniture seemed old, and the walls were yellow even though they were painted white. He opened a small fridge and got rid of some sausages that were starting to smell bad. The long ride had made him hungry. Luckily he found a few canned goods and satisfied his hunger with those.

He paid some old bills, made a few phone calls, and lay on his bed in the hope of getting an hour's sleep. His eyes were smarting from lack of sleep and he knew that he'd soon get a headache. Maybe I really should see a shrink, he thought. No, I have nothing to say to him.

He felt an incredible need to talk to someone, though, anyone, to be hugged and comforted. Never in his life had he felt so lonely. He thought of Emely and all the wonderful moments he had spent with her recently and caught himself imagining her hugging him and caressing him all night long. I could confide in her. He shook his head. No, no, what could I tell her? That I have nightmares about dead bodies? She'd tell me to let her go and everything would be OK. He took a quick breath.

How selfish I am, thinking only about my dreams. Who knows what she dreams. After all, she's the one who was buried alive. Maybe her dreams are a hundred times worse than mine. He put his chin in his hands while his body shook with horror. A wave of freezing coldness spread over him.

John imagined thick tears running down Emely's cheeks and he was drying them with his lips. He moved his head and began breathing calmly. Then I'd embrace her gently and stay like that all night. The next moment he slapped his right cheek. What stupid thoughts have been going through my head! This crazy woman will make my head explode. I'm turning into a sentimental sap. A real man shouldn't behave like this.

He lay on the bed and slowly closed his eyes. A pleasant feeling drifted from his head to his feet and he purred like a cat. He could feel himself slipping away and entering a place where there was perfect peace.

*

John and Ronald were strolling around a deserted construction site. A hole with a circumference of a few yards appeared in front of them and John looked down to see how deep it was. He was bending forward when he felt a hand on his back push him in.

While he was rolling down, his fingers tried to find a grip on the sharp stones but kept sliding over them instead. Then he lay at the bottom, looking up. When he had looked at it from above, the hole seemed not much more than six feet deep, but now that he was in it, he saw it was at least twice that. It was impossible for him to climb out. He called to his brother to stop this silly game and help him out. At that moment, his calls were interrupted by a loud noise of a huge digger pushing an enormous heap of soil. Ronald was driving the machine, laughing as loud as he could. John could not believe his ears.

"Ronald, no! Stop it! Nooooo ...."

He was still shouting for a few seconds after he opened his eyes and saw the white walls in his bedroom. The clock on the wall showed that he had slept for only twenty minutes. He wiped his sweaty face on the sheet and decided to quickly do everything he had to do and then return to the house in the woods. To Emely, he thought.

He called his doctor and mentioned he was having trouble sleeping, and the doctor told him to come pick up a prescription for three packets of sleeping pills, which John did before seven in the evening. When he had accomplished everything he intended to do, he stopped at his local bar, where he had often spent his free time in the past. All the neighbors and friends he used to drink with nearly every night were there. As soon as they saw him, they welcomed him and reproached him for keeping away so long. They asked him all sorts of questions and teased him that he must have found a girl or something. The first drink was followed by another and another and before he realized how much time had passed it was eight o'clock. Oh no, Emely, the poor thing has been in her room all day. I've got to go back so that she can at least have a hot shower before bed. He paid for the drinks and quickly took leave from his drunken friends.

Chapter 27

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When Emely heard the alarm at eleven o'clock, she sighed. Finally he's back. It had been an incredibly boring day. In the morning she didn't bother to follow the trading on the stock exchange because without John she couldn't buy or sell anything anyway. Immediately after finishing her morning exercise routine she concentrated on the thoughts that were occupying her mind most of the time: How can I escape from this hell?

She spent at least two hours thinking, only to reach the same conclusion as always. The only solution is to get his trust. Once he becomes less watchful, I'll have to launch a serious attack, without mercy.

After a while her anger turned to sadness as her thoughts wandered to Philip. What's he doing? Does he think about me at all? She could see his face clearly and wished she could touch him.

Sally and her other friends were also in Emely's thoughts. She was no longer crying, the tears having turned into an inner pain that was even worse than crying. Her heart felt as if something was squeezing it and at times she had a feeling that her insides were being torn apart. She had no energy or will to live. For the first time in her life she was able to experience the trials and tribulations that prisoners must endure. The thought of having to spend the rest of her life in there made her shudder.

She thought of her company and felt a burning pain in her stomach. I wonder who's making all the crucial decisions now. Every day, she used to have to sign invoices for amounts that were rarely less than a hundred dollars. Now she could only hope that everything would be alright. I hired capable people, she told herself.

After spending time worrying she tried reading a book, but could not get involved.

Where is he? She kept concentrating on the words in the book, trying to get engrossed in the story. Her stomach still felt tense so she tried some breathing exercises in order to calm herself. She felt as if she had stuffed herself with something heavy and her digestive system had shut down. It was her nerves, she knew, but was unable to help herself. The words she was reading kept flying past without her really absorbing them and often she had to go back to the beginning of a paragraph.

Damn that John! How could he leave me alone in this hole? She looked at the clock on the computer. He'd said, "Soon, should be back by three o'clock at the latest."

He had left her a few sandwiches and some fruit juice in case she got hungry, which had led her to assume he wouldn't be back for lunch. He's selfish, like all men.

Although she hated him, she couldn't imagine being completely alone in that house and badly needed company, irrespective of what had happened.

Maybe it's not all his fault, she thought. He had a strange upbringing. It's Ronald's fault. No, they're both guilty. They should be put in jail for the rest of their lives.

Angrily she kept glancing at the chamber pot ... she needed the toilet. If he doesn't come soon, I'll have no choice. Her face grimaced at the thought and she decided to suffer a bit longer and delved into her book again.

Chapter 28

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"I see you had a good time while I was stuck in this hole."

He shuffled awkwardly. "Sorry, Emely, I had ..." He was going to apologize, but then realized that he was being too soft, so he immediately changed his voice. "You go to the bathroom while I fix you some food and then you'll eat it in your room. Understood?"

"Yes," she said with defiance in her voice.

*

The next day they barely spoke. Emely only told him the essentials: "Buy a hundred lots of KMM shares at three hundred and sixty dollars, sell twenty-five lots of Royal Simp shares at one thousand two hundred and sixty dollars, immediately sell all the Mico Chips bonds," etc.

He noticed that she was sulking, but he didn't care and let her brood.

*

The hours dragged on as John could barely wait for trading to close for the day. When it did, he jumped up as if on springs and disappeared without a word. He interpreted her attitude as superior and as if she were the only one in the whole world.

*

In the afternoon, John took a nap. When he woke up, he was full of energy and went into the woods. He walked on the dead leaves, enjoying the feeling of his feet sinking into the soft earth. His eyes rested on the green pine trees. Swallows joyfully played above the trees, twittering pleasantly. It was a truly glorious day.

He inhaled the forest air, trying to keep it in his lungs for as long as possible. Overflowing with life, he wanted to be able to share all these pleasures with someone. He thought of Emely. In the late afternoon I could invite her for a short walk. It would do her good and Ronald definitely wouldn't come at that time. He took another deep breath so that his nostrils made a loud whistling noise.

No, I won't invite her. He remembered the argument the day before. Let her rot in her room, I don't need her.

He decided to prolong the walk into a longer wander and went deeper into the woods. The farther he went, the less light there was. The trees were so close together that only a few rays of sunshine could reach the ground. And the farther he went, the more aware he became of just how lonely he was.

Mushrooms grew here and there and he looked at their various colors and shapes. This is a paradise for mushroom pickers.

Hardly anyone strayed into this part of the woods, as those not familiar with them would get lost. There were no roads along which you could drive in an ordinary car. All the tree roots and other obstacles could only be overcome by an off-road vehicle.

We could pick mushrooms together. About half an hour's walk from here there's a beautiful waterfall above a small pond. We could swim there together. He jumped up in joy a few times like a child. And then we could lie together in the sun to dry off.

Over two hours went by, when he finally decided to go back. The long walk and all the fresh air made a hole in his stomach. I've got to cook some dinner for us.

Chapter 29

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Emely was so annoyed after John had left that she couldn't go to sleep for her usual afternoon nap.

She was looking at various financial magazines, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Let him go to hell. She felt like a hot volcano that was unable to erupt. She decided not to talk to John anymore, but to ignore him in order to indicate that he couldn't treat her like that. Even though I'm a prisoner, I deserve a certain amount of respect. Letting me wait all day in this room really is despicable. No normal person would be able to take it.

When it was five o'clock, she looked at her watch again. Where is he? I'll go crazy in this hole.

She began pacing up and down out of sheer rage and then she did a few squats. Lying down on her stomach, she did fifteen pushups without supporting herself on her knees. Next she did a headstand. While in this awkward position, she looked at the time and collapsed with anger. When she heard noises in the house, she felt like banging on the door.

*

The door opened an hour later. Emely was sitting on her chair, perfectly calm, and slowly looked up at him, pretending to be in the middle of some important work. But inside she was about to explode.

"You must be hungry," he said with a smile. "Let's go to the dining room."

She looked at him from behind, observing his way of walking. Like a cowboy. What a redneck. Then she caught herself watching his behind. As usual he was wearing a pair of jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

She jumped up and followed him down the corridor that led to the stairs, looking everywhere but at him, still brewing her anger.

Due to carelessness she stepped awkwardly on the sixth step and lost her balance. She squealed and waved her arms, yelling.

John turned within a split second and caught her just in time. "Got you."

Her face was bright-red. They were so close she could smell the soap on his body. She trembled from head to toe, then immediately straightened up, looking at the floor like a little girl. She didn't want him to see the embarrassment on her face.

"Will you manage or shall I carry you to the dining room?" he said jokingly.

"Yes, I'll manage," she told him, still looking down. She was angry at herself for having been careless.

When they reached the top of the stairs she went to the bathroom, feeling upset with herself. Her heartbeat had not slowed down yet and the red flush on her cheeks was still there. If no one could hear her, she would have screamed.

In the bathroom, she sniffed all the shampoos and soaps, and finally found the shower gel that John must have used. She squeezed the bottle and inhaled the scent, then decided to use it too.

After a hot shower she felt much better and the unpleasant tension inside her went away. It would be pointless if she continued sulking; it would spoil the pleasant atmosphere. As if nothing had happened, she sat at the table and closed her eyes in order to guess only with the help of her nose what was on the table.

"I had a walk in the woods today," John said.

"Oh, yes?"

"It was very nice." He looked down. "If you want, you could come with me sometime."

She couldn't believe her ears. Only that morning he had been insolent and bristly, and now he was inviting her for a walk. She thought about the trees surrounding the house. She had been in that basement for a few weeks now and a thought of seeing the sun, the sky, and everything else seemed almost like a fairy tale. Until now all she had been able to do was look out the window, but even that was covered in thick net curtains.

"It must be beautiful at this time of year," she said.

"It's charming. Flowers competing in beauty, even the bushes are flowering and the treetops are at their thickest. Not far away there's a small waterfall, which ...."

"I'm sure I'll like it."

"Let's have a drink."

The evening was pleasant. They had their fill of food and later talked on the terrace until nearly midnight. Emely was overjoyed to be able to stay out in the fresh air. By allowing her to be with him on the terrace, John had made her feel happier than if he had given her a diamond ring. While they were talking, they could hear the calls of nocturnal animals in the woods, observe moths flying into the light, and spot shooting stars in the clear skies. The evening seemed almost magical to Emely. Never before had she enjoyed observing nature and the night skies quite so much.

If John had not suggested retiring, she would have never gone in. This was the first evening she went to bed in a good mood. Until now she had either cried or felt depressed. She was sure that the outside alarm would wake her in a few minutes, so she read for a while to postpone falling asleep.

Chapter 30

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John was overflowing with energy. Even though it was already after midnight, he felt like going into town and enhancing the evening even further with one of the women. He got his cell phone and put it to his ear, when he thought, I'm so tired in the morning, after a night out.

Slowly and deep in thought he set off for his room. He did feel slightly sleepy. When he covered himself, his thoughts were still with Emely. He remembered how he had caught her on the stairs and held her close. She seemed so fragile and sensitive. Closing his eyes, he tried to relive those moments. It had all happened within a few seconds, but he could remember every detail. Her blue eyes, wide open from fear, her sensuous lips parted, her long hair flying all over due to the swift movement and then immediately rearranging itself into its original shape. There were many other details he could describe. The incident had lasted only a few moments, but he knew that they would always remain in slow motion in his memory.

Chapter 31

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Robert woke up at six and continued writing the article about Emely Donnovan. After seeing her friend Sally, he now wanted to talk to Emely's husband, who was constantly away. But the night before, Robert had finally managed to get him on the phone and they had arranged a meeting.

At seven, Robert was shaken by Zoya's screams from her bedroom, so he ran to her immediately.

"Shush," he said, trying to calm her as he sat on her bed.

She opened her lovely eyes while still crying desperately. "Daddy, Daddy, I got so scared," she said, sobbing.

"What did you dream, honey?"

With her little hands, she pulled him closer. "I dreamt a burglar came and climbed into my room through the window. He was holding a big knife." Her whole body was trembling. "I wanted to help you, but I couldn't get out of bed. I tried so hard, Daddy."

"It was just a dream, calm down now. I'm here and there's no burglar."

It took him a while to calm her down and then he helped her into her wheelchair and took her to the bathroom.

Later he wiped his own tears from his eyes.

*

As soon as Robert stopped in front of the tall fence that must have cost a fortune, he was angry with himself and his life. He drove beyond a line of trees and came to a huge house that had to have at least twenty bedrooms. A look at the high columns by the door, the tall windows, and numerous balconies made him even more depressed.

The door was opened by a servant, who left him waiting in the hall. Finally a lanky man came down a wide staircase. He had a prominent nose, an elongated face, and dark hair. When Robert felt his strong handshake, he also noticed that his eyebrows were very bushy.

They sat down in a spacious room in the left wing of the house and Robert once more admired the luxurious furniture and paintings. It was clear that they were valuable.

"Like I told you on the phone, I'm writing an article about your wife."

Philip sat perfectly still for a while, without saying anything. He put one hand on his heart. "I just don't understand. Ever since her disappearance, I keep calling the police. Nothing. Nothing at all. As if the ground opened and took her in." He paused. "The corporation has hired a detective, but he hasn't gotten anywhere yet. I don't know what else to do."

Robert nodded understandingly. "Maybe I can help by writing about her. The more she appears in the media, the greater the chance that someone who saw her on the day she disappeared, says something."

Philip spent some time nodding and saying how much he was missing his wife and then he pushed his hands against his knees. "You're right, the media must write about her as much as possible. What would you like to know about her?"

"It's best if we begin at the very beginning. How did her business career begin?"

He smiled faintly and said, "As far as she told me, she had some money left to her by her deceased parents, but there was very little. She could have bought a good car, but she chose not to spend the money. She got her first job in a small stockbroking company. The work interested her greatly and she spent long hours in the office. She began by working as a secretary ...."

*

"Emely, please draw up a contract with our new partner, Golden Enterprise." Her boss was rubbing his hands, looking out the window. "They'll invest over eight hundred thousand dollars."

Every time, Emely was astonished by the huge sums of money that individual companies were willing to invest into shares and bonds. She often tried to imagine how it would be to have that much money. She thought, At this particular moment, I'd buy Motors shares. The value is about to stop falling. Afterward they'll grow for at least twenty days.

She took a sip of juice and adjusted a strand of long hair that was falling across her eyes. She kept dreaming: I'd also buy DDS bonds. They're ridiculously cheap this week. Oh, if I had all that money...

"And call Mr. Milder to arrange a meeting for tomorrow at ten," her boss told her, interrupting her thoughts.

"OK, but I want to remind you that you're meeting the CEO of Walters & Walters at half past ten."

"I know, I didn't forget. I'll get rid of Milder in a few minutes." Putting his hand on the handle of the leather-padded door, he added. "And please, find me the invoices I mentioned yesterday."

"Right."

I'd also buy CW-2 bonds, investing at least a 10 percent share in them. She was familiar with it all. She always knew which securities were worth the most at any time. She had been a secretary for four years, but spent every spare minute with the stockbrokers. Oh, if only I could be in their place, she wished.

She looked over their shoulder, at the screen. "What does this window mean?" she'd ask.

"Those are average growth indexes," one broker told her.

"And those diagrams?"

"They show the growth in the value of Julery Adams bonds."

"How interesting!" She stored everything away in her head and never needed to ask the same question twice.

"Emely, back to your desk," her boss told her sharply. "I've told you countless times that your place is next to my office and nowhere else."

"Yes, I'm coming."

She knew that she would again join the brokers at the first available opportunity. What she liked most were the days when her boss was not there. Then she pulled her chair closer to the nearest broker and spent hours sitting next to him while he explained to her the purpose of every individual transaction.

"See, these are worth buying today. I think they'll go up tomorrow."

Emely absorbed it and tried to learn as much as possible. She knew you could never know exactly what is most worth buying, but that was the main attraction of it all.

Stephan, next to whom she liked most to sit, told her, "You have to rely on your instinct. You've got to have a sixth sense, like animals do."

She hoped she had it.

"You just have to learn how to use it." He winked at her in a friendly way. "Sometimes I don't know what to buy and what to sell and I often make mistakes. But that doesn't matter. What matters is the result at the end of the month and especially at the end of the year. You must never allow momentary setbacks to get you down."

She nodded like a schoolgirl. "Why don't you buy more Motors Co. shares if you say that their value will grow by at least 20 percent in the next two months? I'd put more money into them."

"You can never know for sure what will really happen, it's all just conjecture. The best-laid plans may fail miserably the next day, turning things upside down. There's a general rule that you never invest more than 20 percent of all the available money into one type of security."

"Of course, I forgot that. But if it's a solid company and the prognosis is good ..."

"You learn with the years that the foundation of even the most solid of companies can turn to dust in a single moment. Remember the Ralington affair? Their shares were considered a very good investment. After they published their profits and dividends of around one hundred and fifty dollars per share, all the stockbroking companies wanted to grab as much stock as possible." He looked at the diagrams on his screen for a moment. Then he closed a few windows and dedicated his attention to Emely again. "The CEO of that company boasted about his previous investments. He was even nominated for the Manager of the Month Award. And then only four weeks later, the supervisory board announced bankruptcy. Everyone was horrified. They wanted to sell Ralington shares and bonds, but sale was blocked and they could do nothing."

"Yes, you're right, that's what happened," Emely said.

"See, it's not difficult, but you have to follow the rules."

"Aha."

"You've got to spread your money as widely as possible."

Emely looked him in the eye, trying to remember it all. The information took root in her mind because it fascinated her. She would give anything to be given a chance. It was not that she didn't like working as a secretary, but her work couldn't compare to that of stockbrokers, whom she saw as the driving force of the company. They made a profit while she spent most of her time answering the phone and sealing envelopes. Their work was much more important than hers. That was why she enrolled at college. She didn't want to spend her life sitting next to the director's office.

Every morning she arose two hours before work, had a shower, and then studied thick books on economics. Although she was absorbed in the long paragraphs, she sometimes fell asleep. But she soon woke up again and continued with her studies. She was strict with herself, propelled forward by the desire to succeed in life.

"You do all your exams on time," Sally, her roommate and best friend, said to her one evening. "How do you manage it when you spend all day at work?"

"It's not true. Only last week I failed the statistics exam." She was angry with herself for not having studied more. But at that time it was mayhem at work and she could never get home before nine.

"Oh come on, you're a very hard worker. If you go on like this, you'll soon be a fully fledged economist."

Emely hoped Sally was right. Every time she ran out of energy she imagined working as a stockbroker and it gave her strength to go on.

"And what will you do once your studies are over?" Sally asked.

"I told you I'd like to be a stockbroker."

"A stockbroker? How strange. Isn't that a man's job? What could possibly be interesting in doing that?"

"It's true brokers don't buy shoes and handbags in designer stores, which is something you'd love to do most, Sally," Emely teased, "but I find what they do so interesting."

"If that's what you want. I just hope you've mentioned it at work, you know, about your wishing to become a stockbroker one day."

Emely swallowed hard. She had not mentioned it to anyone, afraid that they'd laugh at her. All the brokers were men and experienced traders. And what was she? What did she have to recommend her? She would never reveal her wish to them.

"Yes, yes," she said.

"Whatever, I'm sure you'll land on your feet."

But Emely was not so sure. Although they valued her work and kept praising her, she had a feeling they were pleased with her as a secretary and didn't want her to become more.

When after the first year she took her grades to her boss, he praised her. "Wonderful, Emely, you really are a good girl. I knew you'd manage. When you finish all your exams, you'll be able to become my business executive assistant."

"Business executive assistant?" The words had echoed around Emely's head. "How terrible. Why didn't he say I could become a stockbroker? Executive assistant!" She kept repeating these words, horrified.

"But that's a wonderful job," Sally said when they were discussing it at home. "What more do you want? You'll send the odd letter and have lots of coffee."

"But that's not what I want to do," Emely said.

"And why didn't you say so to your boss?"

"I didn't dare. He's so nice to me." Emely hung her head down.

"But then he'll never find out what you want, exactly."

She knew Sally was right, but Emely was still unable to pluck up the courage to talk about this to her boss.

Her friend said, "If you can't mention it to your boss, tell someone else, for heaven's sake."

"I will, I will," Emely said, but did nothing, afraid that she would be laughed at.

*

Finally the day came when she had to defend her degree. Three professors sat in front of her, listening with interest.

"Long-term investments are mostly dependent on a company's income, which is connected to the development of the economy as a whole, the political system, tax policies. Midterm investments are dependent on development within a specific economic field, exchange rates, and monetary policies ...." Emely was hoping that she would remember everything. She had spent the whole night preparing and the pain at the back of her head was getting unbearable. "There are also movements on the stock market which are the result of the disproportionately high number of offers, i.e., demands ...." She had invested more than three months' time preparing for this.

When she finished her defense, all the professors got up and congratulated her.

One professor suggested to Emely that she go on to postgraduate studies. But Emely was not interested. She wanted to finally do what she wrote about in her thesis. That was all. She wanted nothing else.

*

"Congratulations, honey, I knew you'd do it one day," Sally said to her, giving her a big hug.

Emely was glowing with satisfaction. Finally her studies were over. It wasn't that she couldn't go on, just that she had felt in the last year that things were getting repeated and there was no more she could learn in the area that interested her. She would much rather spend the spare time she had looking at various books on shares and bonds, improving her already considerable knowledge.

"Good job we've still got a bit of that champagne in the fridge that we didn't finish last week."

"Oh, no, Sally, that champagne is flat. I've worked really hard all these years and I think I can give myself something more. Let's go for dinner somewhere."

"Oh, that would be wonderful. Where do you suggest?"

"Not McDonald's, that's for sure. This time I'd like to be served like a lady, the full works. We'll order an aperitif, an appetizer, and all the rest."

"Super, Emely, I'm sure we'll have a wonderful evening."

*

Emely's boss called the college and inquired about how she had done. He had always been a prudent man and it would seem silly to organize a party unless he was certain. After all, these things cost money. But he was surprised to hear what her mentor had to say to him: "Has she successfully defended her thesis? Who do you say you are? Oh, yes, the director of the company she works for. Listen, not only has she defended her thesis successfully, she surprised everyone here with her work. Do you know what she wrote about?"

Emely's boss became embarrassed since he couldn't answer the question. Once, he had asked her about the title, but his thoughts were on some liquidity problems the company had that day and so he was not paying attention. "To tell you the truth, no, I don't know."

"It's fantastic. The title is 'The Short-Term and Long-Term Forecasting of the Value of Securities,' and we were all surprised to read about the new approaches she came up with. Listen, what does she actually do at work? I suppose stock analysis or trading."

"No, not really. She's my secretary." He didn't know why he felt embarrassed saying that.

"A secretary?" shouted the voice at the other end of the line. "Are you crazy? Listen, in case no one has told you yet, Emely is a very capable woman who knows how to use her brain and I'm certain secretarial work is too undemanding for her."

"I was going to offer her the position of executive assistant," he said weakly, embarrassed again.

"Well, it's your decision. You manage that company and know best what you need most. But I think that Emely would do the job of an analyst or a stockbroker much better than that of an executive assistant. Have you any other questions?"

"No, thanks for talking to me."

"Then I'll say goodbye, I'm late for a lecture."

"Bye," the director said, and spent a while holding his chin, thinking what to do.

*

When Emely arrived at the office at nine the next morning, she was shocked. The premises were decorated with at least fifty colorful balloons. Everyone was there already and as soon as she came in, they all got up and walked toward her.

Adam, one of the brokers, said, "Congratulations, Emely, on your success."

"I knew you'd do well," Miriam said. The accountant squeezed both of Emely's hands.

"Congratulations ... congratulations!" Everyone was shaking her hand.

"This really wasn't necessary," Emely said.

She had never expected such a reception. She was thrilled and her cheeks were glowing.

Then they all took tall glasses and opened the champagne bottles. Emely was speechless; it was all too much for her. Never before had she been given such a party. She liked her colleagues and got along well with nearly all of them. She loved going to work and because she often stayed there well after quitting time, they seemed like family to her. She had never argued with anyone and always tried to be nice. And now all these people got up from their desks and interrupted their important work just for her. She wanted to hug everyone and cry.

"So, Emely," her boss said, "the time has come to offer you a better job. I'm sure being my personal assistant was getting a bit boring for you."

Emely shook her head and smiled. This is where I become an executive assistant, she thought with bitterness.

"As of tomorrow, you no longer sit next to my office, but back there." He pointed to a desk. Emely only now noticed a new desk positioned between two others. She thought it strange that she would be sitting between two stockbrokers.

"As of tomorrow," he added, "you'll be buying and selling shares and bonds to your heart's content."

Emely could not believe her ears. She stood there in front of everyone, speechless. This was a complete surprise. "What ... how come ...?"

No longer being able to control herself, she began to cry the first tears of happiness. The joy she had felt after the defense of her thesis was nothing compared to this. She wanted to scream with joy. She stood there still unable to believe that it was true, while they all shook her hand. She was no longer trying to hold back the tears, there were just too many of them.

"So, my dear Emely, we'll have some more fun and then you'll go home and have a rest."

"But I'm not tired," she said. She wanted to sit at her new desk that very minute and start her new job.

"No way!"

"But ..."

"Would you rather become an executive assistant?" her boss said jokingly.

"No."

Everyone laughed.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

*

Philip Donnovan spent a while looking through the window. "Oh, my dear Emely, I miss you so much." Then, without being prompted, he began talking about what he did.

Robert found out that he had his own company as well, which was involved in importing and exporting luxury food items. That is why he was away most of the time.

After a while, he said; "Mr. Miles, I don't have any more time now, but if you want, we can talk again. I've got another meeting in a few minutes."

Robert thanked him for his time and set off for the office. He could barely wait to start writing.

Chapter 32

_________________________

During the next two weeks, Emely and John were together nearly all the time. In the morning, they followed the trading on the stock exchange and speculated. At noon, John went to the kitchen and fixed them something to eat. They had their lunch in Emely's room, and the trading went on until five o'clock. Afterward, they had a nap and then dinner, which continued to surprise Emely.

While eating, they talked about different matters in a relaxed manner. Emely always tried to put John in a good mood and ensured there were no awkward silences. She knew how to listen for hours. Often, John was quiet and with time she learned how to get him to talk and then he sometimes found it hard to stop. When he was in a bad mood, she directed the conversation toward subjects that cheered him up. If he was nervous, she looked at him with her gentle eyes and puckered her sensual lips so that he soon calmed down. She wanted him to enjoy every minute with her, and he did.

Gradually he began revealing things he would have never mentioned in the past. Once, he confessed that he used to wet the bed when he was a child. He even told her that once he really had been in love. Emely listened and always offered words of comfort. When necessary, she was critical and when he was vulnerable, she caressed him with her responses, noticing how he got mellower with every passing day.

Everything was going according to plan. She still saw in him an enemy who was keeping her incarcerated and she just waited for her moment to arrive. She felt it getting closer. A few times she had had an opportunity to hit him with a bottle or another hard object, but she was never sure that he wasn't watching her without her being aware of it. She was waiting for a moment when he'd turn his back to her. Then she would show no mercy.

Chapter 33

_________________________

After dinner they frequently went for a short walk around the nearby clearing and enjoyed the sounds of the crickets and other wildlife. Often they did not go to bed until after midnight. If John had errands in town, he drove there straight after lunch so that he could spend the evening with her. He no longer went out late at night. A few times he became aware of feeling stressed and nervous during the few hours he wasn't with her. It passed as soon as they saw each other again. He never thought of her as a sexual object and was still getting flashes of horrifying images at night so that he woke drenched in sweat, thinking she was dead.

What he saw in her was someone with whom he felt good. He didn't delve into these feelings, just surrendered to the relationship they had and was happy that it was as it was. Until now he had never met anyone who wanted to spend as much time with him and listen to him for hours. Emely was the first who never complained and always agreed with him. She possessed everything he wanted from someone with whom he would like to live.

One evening Emely seemed absentminded. He knew she was thinking of friends and that she was upset. Her eyes were becoming moist and he could see immense sadness in them. When he went to bed that night, he was sad too. He was aware of reality and thought how one day he would have to let her go. This thought seemed suffocating and produced a hitherto unknown pain in his heart. It scared him so much that he chased the thought away at once, it was just too painful. Only a few hours without her seemed torture to him; a few days or even weeks were inconceivable. He would go crazy.

*

She needs company, John suddenly thought. In the afternoon he went to a pet shop in town. He spent a long time looking at the yappy, small, cuddly bundles that were begging with their pleading eyes to be given a home. He hesitated for quite some time before he finally chose one of the puppies.

*

Pressing the little puppy close to her chest, Emely squealed and nearly cried. "He's so sweet," she kept saying as she cuddled the frightened dog. "Where did you get him?"

John was excited to see Emely so touched. He had spent days wondering how to bring a little joy into her life and now he knew that he had hit the jackpot. "I bought her for you. You've often mentioned that you like animals."

"For me? I can't believe it. But this is impossible. Who'll take him for walks? Dogs have their needs, just like people."

Emely's nose was snuggled into the puppy's furry coat and she never stopped stroking the frightened dog.

"In the morning and at lunchtime I'll take her and in the evening we'll go together."

"And what if Ronald appears?"

"I've thought about that too. If she doesn't bark, there won't be a problem. If she does, I'll quickly come and get her and keep her upstairs. It's a Yorkshire terrier and they're so small that they can live in a constrained space, like your room. Besides, they have such short legs that they get tired after only a twenty-minute walk. They don't need as much attention as some dogs. Oh, and it's a she, not a he."

"Oh, John, I'm so glad," Emely said, nearly crying. Still cuddling the dog, she put a hand on one of John's shoulders and kissed him spontaneously on the forehead. A moment of confusion and silence followed.

John was breathless. His body felt heavy, as if made of iron, and his face got incredibly hot. His cheeks turned bright-red, while his heart became a time bomb, the ticking of which seemed very loud to him.

*

While cooking dinner he was still confused and tense. He forgot to add salt to the meat and oil to the salad dressing. His thoughts had been unable to move away from that warm kiss. What's happened to me, I can't stop thinking about her. He longed to touch her gently, but was afraid of being rejected. He didn't want to take her by force and wanted her to desire him as well. But that seemed impossible.

*

At dinner, the main theme of their conversation was the newcomer, whom they named Kitty. Emely kept getting up from the table, ensuring Kitty didn't wander too far away. In her excitement she didn't even notice that the meat was not salted, but John did and spread a pinch of salt over her plate when she wasn't looking.

"You'll be less bored when you're alone in your room," he said while she spent more time on the floor than at the table.

"John, I'm so happy," she said. "I've always wanted a dog and don't really know why I never got one. Now I see how much pleasure I've missed out on."

He smiled briefly and looked down in embarrassment. Her beautiful blue eyes sent his blood gushing in his veins every time he looked at her. "After dinner, the three of us can go for a short stroll."

"A wonderful idea."

Before they stepped out, he put a restraint in his pocket. If Ronald showed up, John would have to fasten Emely to a tree so that she couldn't get away. He was not so stupid as to leave her alone in the woods, knowing she would never wait there for him. He had searched for another, less painful solution to this problem, but so far had found none.

*

They walked for approximately half an hour and Kitty was getting tired. Her red tongue hung out. John lifted her and carried her for a while. The poor thing was so exhausted that she didn't resist at all. It was now Emely who was hopping around, one moment on John's left and then right. She kept reaching for Kitty, stroking her soft coat. In doing this she once or twice came dangerously close to John. Every time she touched him with a part of her body he felt a hot flush all over, as if someone had poured warm water over him. He was inhaling deeply, smelling her perfume, and reacting like a teenager.

*

When they parted later that evening to go to bed, his good mood turned into a bad one, a kind of agony. He became nervous and restless, everything bothering him. The room seemed too small, the mattress too hard. He thought about going into town, but changed his mind; he was sick of drinking and staying up late. Often he had come home so drunk that the next day he couldn't remember his journey home. Besides, the thought of having sex with other women was no longer appealing. He was angry with himself—now that he could afford the most beautiful women in the world, he no longer desired them. An attractive man in his early thirties with a wallet full of money should have no problems with women. All he'd have to do is to appear in one of the casinos and start showing off and women would come to him without being asked. He had always wanted a life like that, but now that he could have it all, he was no longer interested. Instead, he wanted something he knew he couldn't have—Emely. Every time he closed his eyes, she appeared in front of him. He dreamt of her body, of caressing it, and making love all night long. For the first time in his life he didn't want just a naked body to empty himself into, but someone to hold. He dreamt that she kissed him of her own accord. He wanted her to want him.

*

John slept very badly that night and it was not nightmares this time that stopped him from sleeping. He felt so alone and the desire to approach her in whatever way grew with every passing day. This desire was turning into a torture that he found increasingly difficult to control.

Before, he had been happy with his life; he wasn't doing brilliantly well, but neither did he have reason to complain. He had never before suffered, never felt like he did now, not wanting to go on living like this. At the same time he didn't want to go back to his old life. He was trapped. He saw no way out and this increasingly bothered him. Is this love? he thought bitterly. Let her go to hell.

*

"Good morning," Emely said to him, her voice full of energy. "Kitty can barely wait to go out and relieve herself."

John dug his fingers into his hair and smiled faintly. He put his hand in front of his mouth and yawned discreetly. "Then it's best if I go now."

"Couldn't I come with you? I'd like to so much."

John turned toward her, intending to say no, but when he looked into her eyes that pleaded so earnestly .... "Well," he said, wrinkling his forehead and thinking it out: they would definitely avoid Ronald if they left through the back door. And coming back, they would be able to see his car from far away.

"Please, John, I'd like it so very much."

"OK," he said with a smile. He was simply unable to resist her, but regretted it immediately and became angry with himself for having become so soft lately.

Emely joyfully picked up Kitty and kissed her on her black nose so that the puppy started sneezing. "Let's go then."

Chapter 34

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Emely carefully watched Kitty running around. Her eyes stopped on John for a moment and she had to admire his broad shoulders. He was an attractive man, she had to grant him that. In spite of this, the thought of him approaching her in any way always made her shudder. Although he had greatly changed recently and she was no longer as afraid of him, she preferred him to keep some distance from her.

They walked side by side for over an hour. Emely was intoxicated by the morning beauty of the natural world around them. She felt an incredible energy she had not known before. Her former life had taken place mostly in various offices and she had only rarely come into contact with the countryside. She inhaled deeply of the moist air, as if wanting to fill herself with even more energy. Now that she was out even less, she knew how to value the beauty of the world outside and became aware of how mistaken her former life had been. Her ceaseless desire for power and wealth had blinded her so much that she often stayed at work late into the night instead of spending time with someone she loved. Instead, she could have walked unrestrained in the parks or the nearby woods, if only she had taken the time. She had had to try so hard to succeed in the world in which men still prevailed that she soon didn't know how to stop. Only now, when her freedom had been forcibly taken, did she become truly aware of the mistakes she had made. It made her feel vulnerable.

She had acted wrongly when she greedily took over companies that ran into short-term trouble. As soon as she received information that a firm had liquidity problems, she, without any remorse, had spread false rumors about it in two or three banks, which in turn led the other banks to panic, too. It was true that some of these companies would have gone bankrupt had she not taken them over, but some would have perhaps saved themselves and continued to do business successfully. What she had been doing was not right and she was becoming increasingly aware of this. In fact, I have not lived at all, she thought. I was just the propelling force in a huge money factory that was growing bigger and bigger.

She had not been involved in the buying and selling of shares directly for a while, leaving it to the experts she had hired and taught to work her way, and paid them well for it. Emely herself had been involved in much more complicated business that concerned the reorganization of the newly acquired companies, which was all but simple. When she took over a pharmaceutical company, for example, she had to find experts who instructed her in the fundamentals of chemicals and other factors involved in the production of medicinal drugs. She had to spend weeks doing research, knowing that this was the only way of changing the manner in which the company had functioned until then. Of course her assistants, experts in both pharmacy and business, helped her, but all the fundamental decisions still had to be taken by her. Later, when the reorganization was completed, there followed a search for new partners. Often she had to travel abroad to find companies that would in the future serve as either suppliers or buyers. In the case of suppliers, she was able to negotiate the lowest purchasing prices, and in the case of buyers, large orders from the very beginning. She was wildly successful, but it required a great deal of time and energy.

In connection with Philip, she had to admit to herself that their relationship had been cold for a long time. They slept in separate bedrooms and she could not remember when they had last made love. Philip was often away and she frequently wondered if his business trips were just an excuse for being with a lover. Once she casually mentioned this to him and was surprised that she did not feel jealous at all. Philip, of course, assured her that he was faithful, but did not sound very convincing. Their relationship had become a routine; they were still living together, but the passionate love from their younger days had evaporated long ago.

*

One evening when Emely had been crying because of being imprisoned far away from those she loved, she wondered whom she was missing the most. Was it Philip, whom she used to see for a maximum of ten hours a month? Or perhaps Sally, her best friend? Or the company to which she had dedicated most of her time? These thoughts soon stopped her sobbing.

*

The following day Emely said, "I suggest you buy the Prodny shares. It's a company in Slovakia and during the post-communist transition the stock exchange there was not so well-regulated."

John sat next to Emely, with his legs spread wide.

She said, "The shares may grow by some tens of thousands percent."

Even before he could comment, Emely said, "On the other hand, the value could fall or the company could go bankrupt. In which case you'd lose everything. I propose you invest 20 percent of your capital in Prodny."

"Thirty," John retorted.

"No way, it's obvious you're inexperienced. Let's say twenty-five."

"OK."

They had to carry out the transaction through a stockbroker who dealt with such deals.

Emely lucked out. Everyone was buying these shares and their value increased by over 500 percent within two weeks. John was so stressed that he kept running his fingers over his pants.

"When the shares fall by over 20 percent within a day, we sell them," she told him.

She also frequently had moments of great tension, since under normal circumstances she would never buy these shares. The risk was simply too high.

After three weeks of tension, Emely decided to sell the shares. Within two days their value had fallen for a total of 30 percent, which justified her decision. John immediately called the stockbroker and told him what to do. As they had bought 19 percent of all the Prodny shares, their value fell by another 8 percent in one day as a result. John and Emely had caused a panic, so everyone began selling and the value fell even more rapidly. In spite of all this, Emely and John had increased the capital invested by 540 percent within three weeks and turned six hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars into three million three hundred and seventy-five thousand.

Emely was visibly relieved and John lifted Kitty high up into the air. The dog began to bark.

"We have to celebrate this," he said.

Emely was pleased also, not having expected such a good result in her wildest dreams. Even before the trading had finished they switched off the computer, too excited to go on making small profits that day. They decided to go for a short walk instead.

*

All three of them were running to and fro. After half an hour the two humans threw themselves onto the grass, tired out, and rested for a while in the warm sun.

As Emely lay there on her side, supporting her head with her left hand, something unexpected happened.

He took her hand.

"John!" she warned him in a deep voice. She wanted to sit up, but he swiftly put his arms around her and pressed her close to him.

"What are you doing, John?"

She was shocked at his reaction. He hugged her and would not let go. Emely didn't know whether to react sternly and push him away or whether to stay cool and collected in the hope that her coldness would repel him. "What's happening with you?"

He didn't say anything.

Emely froze. "John, let go of me," she said. At the same time fear began to grow in her as she remembered those horrific moments when he had been on top of her. She was getting into a panic. "John, let me go."

She sensed that his body shook occasionally. The pressure of his arms around her middle began to ease. She turned toward him, wanting to push him away or even slap him, when she was astonished to see tears streaming from his eyes. "John?"

He put his head in her lap and began sobbing.

Emely never expected anything like this and didn't know whether to get up and push him away or put her hand on his head and try to ease his pain. In the end she remained perfectly still, neither getting up nor touching him, and waited for him to calm down and explain his actions.

He cried for at least five minutes, until his breathing slowly calmed down. He was holding her hand. "I know you hate me," he finally said through the sobs.

She didn't know what to say to this. After all, it was true. She hated him from the bottom of her heart—he had tried to kill her and was now keeping her prisoner and earning money on her account. What does he think, that I would love him after all this? But she held on and waited to see what else he had to say.

"I've never met a woman like you." He sniffed a few times and wiped his dripping nose. Then he slowly lifted his head.

Emely looked into his red eyes and couldn't believe this reaction. She expected anything but this. She had really thought that all he was capable of doing with a woman was to order her around and climb on top of her whenever the urge took him. She would have bet any amount that in his opinion women were there only to breed children and serve as a sex object. Emotions were not something she thought he had.

"I ... I ... I don't know how to tell you. No one has ever listened to me the way you do. ... I've never talked to anyone until the late hours like I do to you. ... I have never admired anyone as much as I admire you. ..."

For a while she was completely silent, thinking what to say. "It's very nice of you to think that way, but ..." She wanted to tell him that she was nice to him only because he demanded it and it was best for their relationship.

"I love you, Emely," he finally said as he took a deep breath.

"But—"

"I love you so much and I know you don't love me."

Again he put his head in her lap and sobbed. She was so touched that she put her hand on his head and gently stroked his short hair. The fear was gone and a gentle smile appeared on her lips. She knew she could get him to give her anything with time. Maybe even freedom, she thought.

*

They set off for home in silence, with Kitty hopping around them and looking at them in turn. The horizon was dark, the sky covered with gray clouds. The damp air foretold a downpour. The wind tussled their hair.

*

He shut her in her room as usual and left without saying anything else. When alone with Kitty, Emely sat down, put her hand over her heart, and began thinking about everything that had just happened. She was both touched by and impressed with what he had said to her and also aware that she'd have to be careful, otherwise he would sooner or later appear in her bed. The thought of touching anything but his hand made her shudder. I have to act tactically, she repeated to herself. He's going to become less and less careful with time and that's when I'll act. She adjusted her hair that was flattened by lying in the grass. Yes, that's the best solution.

Chapter 35

_________________________

John, rather depressed, set off for his room. He was ashamed of his outburst and felt humiliated and embarrassed. If only I could have controlled myself. What must she think of me now?

For weeks now he'd been dreaming of touching her one day. The thought had grown into an obsession and true suffering. He admired her so much that he could never describe the feelings he had for her. She was the smartest, most beautiful and attractive woman he had ever known. In fact he found her more beautiful every day. Although lines were becoming noticeable on her face and he knew she was nearly forty, in his opinion no twenty-year-old could compete with her. She was simply perfect and he often had to look down because he could no longer endure her beauty. It was too painful. Knowing he couldn't give her a hug or touch her in any way, he sometimes felt such a strong pain in his heart that he thought it would stop beating.

He went to the bathroom and took a pill for his stomachache. After he washed his face with soap and water, he went to bed. Lying there, he rolled up into a ball, holding his stomach. He could only last a few minutes thinking about other things before his thoughts flew down to the basement. He imagined her waiting for him with open arms. Then he fell asleep.

Chapter 36

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As dinnertime approached, Emely could hear a noise that announced his imminent arrival. Confused, she sat on the bed and then the chair. At the last moment she adjusted a lock of hair that was sticking out half an inch too far. John came in smiling. Little Kitty kept wagging her tail.

"Dinner's ready," he said.

Emely nodded and immediately lowered her eyes and looked at the dog. She was trying to behave as if nothing had happened, which made her act differently than usual.

"The sun shone so warmly today," she said at the dining table.

"Yes, but the temperature was just right."

"I worry that soon it'll be too hot during the day for her."

"If she gets too hot, we'll have to trim her coat," he said.

Emely noticed he was drinking more wine than usual. Obviously he's not forgotten his old friend, alcohol, which always gives him courage, she thought. Soon he'll be drunk and his gentleness will change into wantonness and ....

"Emely ... I'd like to apologize for today, I don't know what came over me. ..."

It was hard to believe, but she was beginning to blush now. She felt an incredible heat in her cheeks. Damn it, must be the wine, she thought, while saying, "Oh, John ..."

"All I want to say is that it won't happen again. These outbursts won't happen again. I'd like us to stay friends."

Another surprise for her.

"You needn't worry, I won't touch you again. I know you're afraid of me. I'd just like things to stay as they were."

"Of course things will stay as they were. Of course we'll stay friends," she said, still feeling amazed at what he had said.

"I meant it when I said that I've never talked to anyone like I do to you. And I don't want to lose that."

Emely had to admit to herself that she had often enjoyed spending time with him, but only after having a few glasses of wine and becoming fully relaxed. Only when she was able to forget the terrible things that had happened, shutting the door behind them, was she able to relax and laugh at what he said to her. But when the effects of the alcohol disappeared, she preferred to be alone. She didn't know which was better: when he wasn't there she was angry, but when he was ....

She said, "I think it really is best if it stays as it is. A friendship."

He nodded with remorse. "Now let's eat. The food is getting cold."

They ate without speaking and nothing but the noises made by their knives and forks could be heard. Emely desperately wanted music, but said nothing. She went on eating and staring at her plate. She was too embarrassed to look at him and could barely wait for dinner to be over. She had not had much time in her life for love. John had confused her with that outburst earlier and she was unable to react appropriately. Being used to having things under control, she didn't know how to behave. She felt nothing for him, but nonetheless she often blushed and felt her breasts swelling. A few times now she had felt her nipples grow hard when she was with him. As she usually wore a thin T-shirt, this was more than obvious. She was angry that this happened.

"Shall we go for a walk after dinner?" he said to break the silence.

"Oh yes, Kitty will love it."

More silence.

They walked for half an hour and then John offered to accompany her to her room.

Oh yes, she thought, not only will he accompany me to it, he'll lock me in.

Chapter 37

_________________________

The moment John lay in his bed and covered himself, the stomachache returned. He had never been so lonely. His stomach felt as if filled with concrete and he would have thrown it all up, but he knew that the food was not the problem. For over two hours he tossed and turned trying to find a suitable position, to no avail. He wanted her there so much that he thought his head would explode. Every moment was pure torture.

He dragged himself to the bathroom and rummaged around to find a painkiller. Coming across something for headaches, he took three pills, washing them down with water. Instead of feeling better, things got worse. The dull pain grew to a burning sensation. Swallowing was difficult and he felt nauseated.

He went to the bathroom again and emptied his stomach in the hope of feeling better. But it didn't work; his thoughts were still screaming inside him. Clearly, his body was rebelling against everything that was happening. He lay down again and endured the pain for a while, lying still. Tears began to roll from his eyes. He was missing her so much. It was as if she had bewitched him, all his thoughts revolving around her. He felt he was going crazy.

Before this, all he had thought about were money and women, but now his head was fully occupied with Emely. Where is this going? Sooner or later I'll explode.

There were moments when he wanted to die. He knew he would have to let her go one day, but life without her seemed pointless. At the same time, life as it was now seemed unbearable. He turned onto his stomach and the pain abated a little. Then his heart began to hurt and he had difficulty breathing. He could not go on and had to do something.

Wearing only his underwear, he went down the stairs to the basement. Quietly, he unlocked her door.

Emely was asleep and he was soon under her covers.

Chapter 38

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"John!" she screamed.

She was so frightened that she got dizzy. He glued himself to her back, squeezing her so strongly that she couldn't move. She lay in his arms like a mummy, stiff from head to toe.

"John, no!"

"Sor-sorry, Emely," he stammered, and she realized that his voice was full of pain. "I promise not to hurt you."

When she felt his warm, naked body against hers, she shuddered at first, but then had to admit that it excited her as well. Despite that, she said, "No, John, you must leave immediately."

As he moved she felt the hair on his chest tickling her back. A wave of arousal traveled throughout her body. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she was with a man.

"I'll stay just a few minutes. I need your closeness." He began crying again.

She felt relief and lay there perfectly still, waiting for him to calm down. She didn't want to give him the slightest encouragement.

Like he promised, he kissed her neck after five minutes and left the room in silence.

Emely's body was like a bomb ready to go off. She could feel her heart pounding as if she had just run a marathon. Everything was wrong. Her head was throbbing, her cheeks felt red-hot, all her organs worked at double speed—as if she had taken a drug. Her body was thrown out of balance. As she moved she noticed that her breasts were hard. So hard that her nipples hurt when she touched them.

She got up and went to the basin. Two glasses of cold water put out some of the fire raging inside her.

After half an hour she was calmer, but not enough to go to sleep. She kept tossing and turning until the morning, in the hope of getting at least an hour or two of sleep.

*

In the morning, Emely was not pleased with her appearance. Dark circles were clearly visible under her eyes and the lines on her face indicated lack of sleep. At least, she thought so. Quickly she applied some moisturizer and makeup.

Every time she thought of John coming to her, the speed of her heartbeat doubled. How dare he come to my room at night! She decided to tell him off, but at the same time she was afraid he wouldn't listen.

He appeared just after she'd applied her makeup. He was smiling and in a good mood, as usual.

When he came in he greeted her in a loud voice and before she was able to move away, he kissed her on the right cheek. Then he picked up Kitty and walked upstairs without saying a word. Emely followed, confused.

*

She recovered slightly after their morning coffee and was ready to bring up the unpleasant subject of his unannounced visit. Angry, she wanted to say a few harsh words to him. But the harder she tried to begin, the more problems she encountered in finding the right words. In the end, she gave up and focused on Kitty.

"The poor thing needs a brush. Little seeds are starting to collect in her fur."

John smiled kindly. "I'll pop into town this afternoon and buy one."

*

More than a week had passed since his unpleasant visit. Emely had problems sleeping, afraid that he'd again surprise her in her bed. But John never came close in any way, other than to take her hand once or twice during a walk. At first she told him off and withdrew her hand, but later stopped doing this with the explanation that though she was letting him hold her hand, it signified no more than friendship.

Like young lovers they walked hand in hand, chatting about this and that. With time, she got used to being held and it stopped bothering her.

Chapter 39

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Robert had written a number of articles about Emely Donnovan already and they were a great success with the readers. Some people even sent e-mails, praising his writing. His boss also praised him, but all this was clearly still not enough for a promotion and giving Robert a regular column. Robert knew he should write something shocking about Emely, but didn't know what to say.

When he took Zoya to school in the morning, he was scratching his nose, thinking what else he could do. But however much he thought, no solution occurred to him. He had to hurry now because he had another meeting with Philip Donnovan in an hour.

He was left waiting in the splendid hall for at least half an hour before Philip apologized, saying that his meeting had dragged on. Robert was surprised to see that he had meetings at his house. He also noticed that Philip did not seem even remotely sad. On the contrary, he looked rested and in a good mood. Only when he began talking about Emely did his face grow gloomy. He kept saying he could not understand why the police had not found her yet and then he began looking back at the day he had first met her.

*

This was at the Garden Ball in Miami, organized every year by the businessman George Baldwin. Only the most prestigious were invited. Emely Donnovan didn't belong among them since her company only had eight employees at the time. But she was lucky enough to have managed to persuade Baldwin's company, LMK, to invest some of its capital in her company. Within a few months she had increased its value by over 10 percent, which made Baldwin decide to increase his investment.

"You're an excellent dancer," her partner whispered in her ear. He was the son of the well-known industrialist, Mike Gold.

"That can't be true. I've only just finished having dancing lessons."

"Then you must recommend your teacher to me. Everyone is looking at us. At you, to be precise."

It was a tango and Emely leaned back, executing a move shown to her by her dance teacher. Most of those watching were impressed.

"You're flattering me terribly, Mr. Gold."

"You can call me Michael if you want."

"OK, Michael," she whispered in his ear before doing a double turn.

"And you're Emely, if I'm not mistaken? May I ask what you do?"

She smiled. This was the question she had been waiting for. "I own a medium-sized company which makes investments for other companies." She lied about the company being medium-sized. In comparison to other firms hers was minute, but that wasn't something she could say.

"How's that?"

"It's like this. If you've got too much money, you can put some of your capital into a transferable securities fund that I manage. Within a year, your investment produces a much higher income than if you had put the same amount into a bank account."

"Very interesting."

The music stopped.

"Excuse me, please," a tall man said. "May I ask the beautiful lady for a dance?"

Michael said politely, "Of course."

Emely could see in Michael's eyes that he wanted to hit the man. She used a moment when there was a lot of commotion around them to surreptitiously slip her business card into Michael's hand. He took it gratefully, pretending nothing had happened.

"See you soon," he said.

"Bye."

The man she had not met before put his arms around her as the orchestra began playing the next song. "You must forgive me for interrupting your dance with your partner, but the desire to dance with you was overwhelming."

Emely leaned back slightly and assessed his appearance. He was an attractive guy, about forty-five. Although he wore glasses, they didn't mar his good looks. "No, not at all. He's not my partner, I met him here."

"I see. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Dr. Grodny, Bill Grodny. I'm a heart surgeon."

"Is that so? I just hope my heart doesn't stop on account of your right arm squeezing me so tight," she said jokingly.

"Oh, please forgive me, I really am a klutz. In fact I rarely attend this kind of event and don't have as much dancing experience as you do. You look like a professional."

"Oh, come on, I was only joking. Let me introduce myself too. My name is Emely Donnovan and I own a company ..." She went on to tell him what she did.

"You must be a very bright woman," he said.

She thanked him with a flirtatious look. They chatted for a while until a third man appeared in front of her and bowed politely. "Miss Donnovan, allow me to dance with you like no one ever has."

She looked at him questioningly. "I'm sorry, but I can't quite place you. Do we know each other?"

"You don't know me but I know you, thanks to Mr. Baldwin, who's singing your praises to everyone. You obviously created a good impression on him. He told me you're a real expert in securities."

"Oh, come on, Mr. Baldwin is exaggerating." She decided she must thank him later for inviting her to the wonderful event.

"He's not exaggerating at all. I'm sure what he says is true. Shall we go for a drink instead?"

Emely remembered her previous dancer was still waiting. She thanked him for the dance and skillfully put her business card into his hand. He looked at her in gratitude and winked. She was aware she was using the fact that she was a woman, but her desire for success was greater than any embarrassment she may have felt at this. It's not as if I intend to sleep with them, she thought, knowing that many rather unpleasant rejections lay ahead.

"I'd love to have a drink, my throat is very dry. But I don't know you at all."

"Erick Estwick is my name."

She could only hope to remember all those names. He took her hand and they walked to the bar.

Her eyes were transfixed for a few moments. She admired the numerous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the long hall. She took a good look at all the people and their elegant, expensive clothes. The gleaming jewelry some women were wearing took her breath away.

Her eyes caught someone who seemed familiar. He was by far the most attractive and elegant in the whole crowd. He was well over six feet tall and his wide shoulders gave him an athletic appearance. He had a slightly elongated face and short hair with black sideburns. What she liked most were his thick eyebrows that were as black as coal. She stared at him for a second or two and felt a pleasant flush on her face.

"I suggest we step outside. I'm sure no one has shown you the beautiful view from out there," Erick said.

Emely ambled to the balcony. She saw a huge garden of various trees and bushes: on the left were tropical palms and on the right, other vegetation. Slightly farther away, pine trees fronted beautiful silver spruces. The trees were tastefully grouped together, a sign that a team of gardeners had spent years working on this masterpiece. All around, beautiful flowers in every color imaginable made her wonder what plants these were that she had never seen. They resembled what she imagined grew only in a jungle. She stood on her toes and inhaled the scented air.

"It's truly wonderful," he said.

"You're right, Miami is beautiful."

He said, "You are beautiful. The beauty of this garden is nothing compared to you." He came closer and put his hand on hers.

She didn't know what to do and quickly pulled her hand away. Does my behavior really indicate I'm that accessible? she asked herself. I've known this man only a few minutes and he's already coming on to me.

He put the fingers of his right hand on her bare back and she could feel their coldness.

"Listen, Mr. Estwick, move your hand away immediately." She said this in a calm and decisive voice even though she was bristling with anger and fear inside.

He moved his hand, but stayed close to her.

That very moment she noticed a pair of penetrating eyes under thick eyebrows as black as darkness itself.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man said. "My name is Philip Wayne." He gave Erick Estwick such a grim look that Erick quickly moved away, muttering a few parting words as he left.

Emely sighed in gratitude. She had been in a difficult situation with no way out and if this man had not turned up, God knows what might have happened. She said, "I don't know how to thank you for stepping in like that. How did you know that ...?"

"I happen to have very good eyesight. I could see immediately that you were in trouble."

Emely blushed, not knowing what to say and feeling embarrassed.

"Don't reproach yourself. Even high society is full of bullies like him. Forgive me, but I also noticed that this is your first time in such company."

She looked at him with surprise.

"I expressed myself clumsily. You're acting naturally and genuinely. You're not one of those stuck-up girls who walk around like peacocks and look down on everyone."

"Thank you, I don't think I've ever been stuck-up."

"And I hope you never will be. You wouldn't believe how many women I know who only a short time ago wore shabby shoes, then married a rich guy and all of a sudden became as snooty and refined as if they had grown up among British royalty."

Emely laughed. She turned toward the palm trees, leaned on the metal railing, and remained in that position for a few moments, admiring the tropical fauna. "Isn't it beautiful? I could stay here forever."

"Then let's," he said.

Emely looked into his eyes again and felt feverish once more. She could only hope that she had applied enough foundation to hide the redness on her cheeks.

She put down her glass, took a few steps away from Philip, and then assessed him from head to toe. He really was special. Trying to decide how old he was, she thought he must be just over thirty. He was a mature and confident man, the sort she wanted to meet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend to embarrass you," he said. "I have to go."

Emely was looking at him with surprise as he left the balcony. "Don't go," she said, but it was too late, he was already gone. She was trying to remember whether she had seen a ring on his finger.

Later she met a few more people, but couldn't stop thinking about Philip. And I didn't even introduce myself. I don't know anything about him, she thought on the way home.

*

Early Monday morning, the phone in Emely's office rang. "Hello," she said in a friendly voice.

"It's Erick Estwick."

She quietly held her breath. He really is a bore. I'll have to get rid of him quickly.

"The reason I'm calling is business. I'd like to invest eight hundred thousand dollars in various securities. You know, I'd like to open a portfolio or whatever you call it."

Now she inhaled audibly. He wants to invest nearly a million dollars? My God, these people have serious amounts of money, she thought. "Of course, Mr. Estwick, investing that amount of money certainly is a good idea."

"I don't doubt that at all. Listen, I don't have much time these days to take you out for a drink. Don't hold it against me, but I'm buried in work. So I'll get my secretary to call you in about an hour and you can talk to her about the contract and money transfers and all the other details. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course, Mr. Estwick." She could not believe it. I won't even have to go for a drink. Maybe this Erick isn't such a bad guy after all.

"Well then, I wish you a successful day."

She was so happy that she immediately had another coffee, the second that day.

The phone rang.

"Dr. Grodny here, I'd like to speak to Ms. Donnovan."

Well, I never, she thought. "Hello, Dr. Grodny, how are you?" she said with a smile in her voice.

"Couldn't be any better. And you?"

"Not bad, thank you. How come you thought of me?"

"I have a little bit of money sitting in my bank account and last night I kept thinking about how interest rates are way too low."

"Of course, Dr. Grodny, like I told you, we can make your money work much harder here. What sort of sum are we talking about?"

"Five hundred and fifty thousand."

Again she was speechless. If things continued this way, she would soon need at least ten employees.

"Great, I'm sure you made the right decision. When can we meet? You know, to sign the contract and so on."

"You'll arrange it all with Sophia, my wife, who's also my secretary."

Emely was horrified. He's married and more than open about it. She felt as if he had misled her at the ball. Maybe I was wrong, she thought, and said, "As you wish, Dr. Grodny. It's very kind of you."

"My wife and I are celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary. We're going to organize a small party a week from today, on Friday, in Chicago. It won't be as prestigious as the one the Baldwins threw, but there will be at least a hundred people there. I'd be honored if you came as well, Ms. Donnovan."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Of course I will. I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't thank me, just come."

He had already put the phone down. Emely felt like shouting with joy.

She turned on her computer and figures appeared, showing the values of various shares. She pressed a key and the values of bonds appeared. Nothing very interesting, the market was obviously still asleep. According to her estimation, the following week would be most suitable for investments. If the money arrives in my account by then.

She picked up the phone and called Baldwin. "I haven't thanked you yet for inviting me to your party. I don't know how to make it up to you."

Baldwin said, "You'll make it up to me by attending another party. Everyone asked me about you."

"You're very kind. Erick Estwick and Dr. Grodny have already called me."

"Did they now? And what did they want?"

"They both want to invest some money. I'm really grateful to you."

"Oh, that. I've got something for you as well. I hope another one million eight hundred thousand dollars is enough?"

She couldn't believe her ears. All these people are rolling in money.

"It's more than enough. You really are too kind." Her voice was trembling with excitement.

They chatted for a while longer and then hung up.

For the next two hours she couldn't focus on her work. She was so happy, yet at the same time, afraid. What if I make a mistake? What if I lose huge amounts of money? What if I've only been lucky until now? What if ....

She knew it hadn't been just luck but nonetheless felt a twinge in her stomach occasionally. At the thought that something could go wrong, she began feeling anxious. She decided to take a walk.

*

All week she worked from morning till night. In the morning she sat in front of the computer, watching hundreds of graphs showing fluctuations in the value of stocks. And then in the afternoon she tried to forecast the future of those securities. The person capable of forecasting the ups and downs on the securities market would be the richest person in the world. She knew it was impossible. All you could do was look at the history. There were always certain up and down trends, repeated again and again. For over eight years she had been studying the movements of certain securities and reached interesting conclusions. Diagrams showing the movement of a specific share or bond through a specific period were most helpful. Usually this period was from a month to five years at the most. In this way, long-term values could be seen. According to the shape of the curves in the graphs she was able to forecast certain trends with great reliability. She could never be completely certain when buying a security, whether its value would move the way she predicted, but she had noticed that 70 percent of her expectations panned out.

Often she didn't notice when the workday ended. Studying shares and bonds occupied her mind so much that time stopped to exist for her. She went to work early in the morning and returned late at night. Sometimes she forgot to greet her employees because the night had been too short for sleeping and she had a feeling she had seen them only an hour earlier.

*

She lifted her left arm and looked at her watch. It was Friday and nearly eight o'clock in the evening. Oh, no, it can't be, she thought. She put her hand on her mouth and said, "Damn it, I completely forgot I was invited to the Grodnys'."

She grabbed her keys and ran to the office door. As usual at such a late hour she was alone, everyone else having gone home long ago.

She locked up and rushed to the elevator. What should I wear? Silly me, how could I have forgotten the party?

In twenty minutes she was home, took a quick shower, and had something to eat. Then she dried her hair and looked into Sally's closet. Pleasantly surprised, she spotted a grayish-purple evening gown which should fit her very well since Sally and she had similar figures. On seeing herself in the mirror, she was more than pleased. Now for some makeup.

Half an hour later she was in front of the building where the party was supposed to be. She paid the driver and gave him a tip.

Wow, what a villa. The house must have at least twenty bedrooms. The windows were huge and decorated in an interesting way, the entrance guarded by two Greek male statues. As if the president lived there rather than a Dr. Grodny.

"Oh, Ms. Donnovan, welcome," Dr. Grodny said, approaching her as soon as she entered the crowded room. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come. I'm very glad you're here. Tell me, how are my finances doing?"

"Oh, nothing much to report. This week was pretty dead. It wouldn't have mattered if I'd been on vacation."

Dr. Grodny kept searching with his eyes, as if looking for someone. "I've got to admit I find you very interesting. A woman who is an expert in stockbroking. Fantastic."

"Thank you."

From a tray she picked up a glass and took a sip, but immediately choked—she spotted him. Philip Wayne. Her heart began to beat fast and she downed the martini.

"Oh look, there's my wife," Dr. Grodny said. "Let me introduce you."

They walked over to a tall, elegant woman who smiled at them kindly.

"My husband keeps talking about you. I'll get jealous soon," she said jokingly.

Emely didn't know what to say.

"He's enthralled by your profession. He said you trade with money."

"Not with money, but with securities," Emely said.

"Oh yes, that's it, that's what he said." Mrs. Grodny giggled and then excused herself to go over to an older couple who had just arrived. Dr. Grodny also had to mingle with other guests, leaving Emely on her own. For a while she looked around the spacious room that must have measured at least three hundred square feet. The men, many smiling, were enjoying the elegant atmosphere, and the women looked stunning in their evening gowns. Emely's eyes stopped on the interesting stucco work on the walls and the expensive chandeliers.

"I hope I didn't offend you the other day. I really had to leave."

She immediately recognized the voice. "Why should I get offended," Emely said, lying. "I'm glad to see you. You're the only person I know here. I'd feel awkward on my own."

"I'm sure you wouldn't be on your own for long." Philip looked at her in a friendly way. "There's a room with a pool table upstairs. Shall we give it a try?"

His proposal surprised her. "But I've never played pool."

"It's easy, I'll teach you. Anything to get away from this crowd."

She followed.

The only furnishings in the room were a pool table and a drinks bar made of dark wood. The air smelled of cigars.

"No one will disturb us in here," he said.

Emely nodded. She didn't know what she was letting herself in for. Due to working so hard she had very little experience with men.

Philip showed her how to hold the cue and, in doing so, brushed against her. She shivered.

The balls waited, nicely arranged on the table. Philip bent over, holding the cue, aimed, and then struck quickly. Every ball shot off in a different direction. Emely loved it. He turned to her, offering her the cue for her turn.

She forgot her desire and tried to focus on the game. She decided not to let him win easily. Even though this was the first time she played, she wanted to make the most of it. It was in her nature.

She bent over elegantly and directed the cue toward the nearest ball. She envisaged where the balls would go after she had struck the first one. Racking her brain, she tried to remember the fundamental laws of physics from school. Finally she plucked up the courage and struck as hard as she could. The balls hit each other and the table edges, running here and there like ants when disturbed. But sadly not one ended up in the pocket. I'll have to aim better. I'll be more focused next time. She felt slightly on edge.

"Not bad," Philip said, and took the cue from her.

He pocketed two balls. It was Emely's turn again.

"Let me show you." He straightened her fingers and put them in the right position. "This is how you should be holding the cue." By doing this he had completely confused her again.

She was about to say something, but changed her mind because she thought she may stammer. Instead she focused on his lips and imagined them kissing her passionately.

"Come on, focus," he told her.

She knew she was taking too long, but with the best will in the world she couldn't concentrate on the game. She wanted to play well, but her hands trembled and she knew that the next move would be the crucial one. She decided to strike, whatever happened. It was just a game. Centering on what she was about to do she chased away the thoughts that didn't belong there.

Finally she struck. The ball bounced slightly differently than she had planned, but nonetheless she was lucky. One ball hit another and pushed it into the pocket.

"You have another turn," he said, smiling.

Emely was getting ready for another shot. She took nearly a minute to concentrate and then she struck.

"I don't believe it, you got two balls in the pocket. If you keep this up, I've had it," he said jokingly.

Emely took the next shot, but this time she was out of luck. The cue ball bounced off the edge of the table a few times and stopped. "Your turn now."

He struck the cue ball, but without luck.

Emely smiled coquettishly. "You watch now." Thanks to Philip, she managed to get another two balls into the pocket, as his last shot had been clumsy and two balls were close to the holes. She had no choice but finish what he should have done.

"This can't be happening, I really am going to lose," he said, his voice no longer sounding as if he was joking, but worried.

She was beginning to like the game and decided to take some time in the future and learn to play properly. She had no hobby and could do with one since she was spending too much time at work. Shares, shares, shares, nothing but shares and bonds. Sometimes she had a feeling her life was dull.

She pocketed another ball, but not as easily. The ball bounced twice before moving toward the opening and then slowly rolled in.

"Damn it," he said. "Let it go to hell."

"Well, well."

Emely completed the game. She hit the balls with great pleasure and they sped toward the black opening willingly. Philip seemed to have forgotten to close his mouth as he looked at the disappearing balls.

He watched her for a few more moments, then went closer and shook her hand. "Congratulations are in order. Considering it was your first time, you played really well."

Emely found it funny that he would congratulate her. The strong pressure of Philip's hand made her feel uncomfortable. She lifted her head and wanted to say something, but his face was so serious. His lips were moist and parted. Emely's heart began to beat fast and she could feel herself blushing. She stood motionless in his arms, hoping that his lips would touch hers.

He put his right hand beneath her chin and leaned over. The first kiss was barely noticeable but immediately after, they were kissing passionately so that they both lost balance for a moment.

He kissed her once more and pulled her toward him.

It had been a long time since Emely had felt a man at her side. She had forgotten how it is to want someone. She was hungry for love and tenderness.

Then she felt his hands slip under her dress and, while sighing and purring like a cat, she let him stroke her bare skin.

They both heard the door open and jumped apart.

A man came in and approached the pool table. "Excuse me," he said.

Emely adjusted her clothes.

All three exchanged awkward smiles. The stranger immediately left the room and Emely could see him laughing.

Philip said, "It doesn't matter."

But this was too much for Emely and her Catholic upbringing. Within a second she became aware of her sin and began feeling so embarrassed that she wanted to vanish then and there.

"I don't want to even think about it," she said angrily, and moved away. She opened the door, sped along the corridor and down the stairs, and then mixed in with the crowd. She didn't want any more to do with him.

*

The whole of the following week Emely did nothing but work. Often she thought of him, but immediately suppressed the thoughts. I can't do it, she said. Not now, with a career ahead of me. I'll get a man later.

But things didn't work out according to her plans. Philip called her at work. It was Monday and coming up to nine o'clock in the evening. His timing was good; she was getting tired and slightly dispirited. For a few days there had been no good deals and she was getting desperate. When she heard his voice, she cheered up. And she accepted his invitation.

*

What happened next was what she had feared most. They had a drink in a bar and then she could resist him no more. She found Philip so attractive and it had been such a long time since she had been with a man.

He lived on the fourth floor of an older brownstone. Hungry for love and tenderness, they nearly broke the lock to his apartment trying to get in and immediately tore each other's clothes off after the door was closed. Their hands were everywhere, as if trying to feel every inch of each other, kissing, biting, and sucking.

He lifted her as if she were a feather and carried her to his bed. Not wanting to part from his lips, she kept pulling him toward her. They swapped positions a number of times, as if competing for being the one on top. Emely won in the end. She wanted to be above him; even now she wanted to be in control.

*

Philip took a deep breath. "Oh, those were the days. From then on, we saw each other at least three times a week. After a year, Emely moved in with me and six months later I summed up the courage to ask her to marry me. Oh yes, marriage. I never regretted getting married to her. I even took her surname, she wanted that."

He covered his eyes with his hand and Robert thought he might cry.

But a few seconds later, Philip got up and apologized. "I have another meeting. I wish the police would find her soon."

Robert thanked him and rushed off to do the other things he planned to do that day.

Chapter 40

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One evening when the skies were particularly clear so that every star was visible and John and Emely were sitting in bamboo chairs on the terrace, Emely asked, "John, what would you do if you had lots of money?"

"You mean as much as you?"

She smiled. "No, not quite. I don't know, a few million?"

John frowned for a while and then said, "Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?"

"I wouldn't do anything. I'd let a stockbroking company invest the money and I'd live very well for the rest of my life on the income."

Emely nodded, expecting an answer like this. "I could never live like that. I don't know, I just got so used to stress at work that I'd probably miss it."

"Nonsense. You don't even have time for a hobby. You can't have a life without ever having lived."

"What do you mean, I've never lived?"

"Not like you live. I mean, most people are so obsessed with success that they end up forgetting to live. You know, the present moment is not important at all. It's all work and more work. Can you tell me the last time you took a walk before you came here?"

She could not remember.

"Can you remember when you went hiking in the mountains?"

No, she had no recollection of that either. "Maybe I didn't want to go hiking in the mountains," she said, trying to defend herself, but deep down she knew that she loved nature, just never took the time for it.

"I didn't mean to upset you." With his finger he pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "I just want to say that there's no point in accumulating heaps of money if you don't know how to enjoy life."

"Maybe I really did work too much, but I was going to take it easy later in life."

"But would you ever be able to?"

She felt as if she was being interviewed by the police and it made her angry. "I think I could, yes," she said with stubbornness.

"I don't think so. You'll always sit in your office morning till night until you get old. And by then you'll have forgotten what it means to live."

"But you don't know how it was in that orphanage. At the thought of ever being that poor again and having to do without everything, I panic."

"But all that was then, this is now. If you sell your company now, you'd never be able to spend all the money."

Emely contemplated this for a while and had to agree with him. "Perhaps I'll do that. Maybe I'll sell Donnovan Corporation."

Their eyes met and she became embarrassed.

"I wouldn't really want to have as much money as you have," he said.

"I don't believe that."

"Seriously, Emely. You're not safe even when driving." He instantly realized what he had just said. "I mean ..."

"You're right there," she said angrily.

"What I wanted to say is that you're not as free as you were before becoming rich."

"Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. You can't have everything."

Their conversation about working too much continued throughout the evening. The temperature had fallen and she was getting cold. When she mentioned this, John took off his sweater without hesitation and put it across her shoulders, embracing her gently. His gesture came as no surprise to her. She was expecting something like this to happen sooner or later.

"John," she said in a deep, stern voice.

He did not release her, but embraced her even closer so that she felt the warmth of his body.

"John, we agreed we wouldn't go beyond holding hands."

"I know," he said, moving his arms slightly higher, to her breasts, her most sensitive place. She had to take a deep breath as she was suddenly very hot.

"Emely, I love you so much."

There was silence.

"I love you in a way, too," she said with difficulty. "But it's only like sisterly love."

He moved his hand and she stopped talking, afraid that her voice would betray her. She could feel every bit of his body that was touching hers. Waves of arousal traveled along her body and she found it difficult to keep her voice normal. She had to get out of his arms.

"Emely, I love you." His arms tightened around her. "I'd do anything in the world for you."

"How's that?" she said, her tone stern. "As things stand at the moment, I'm your beloved bird in a cage and then you dare say that you'd do anything for me. So what exactly do you mean by that?"

"I'll let you go, Emely, I promise you. But at the moment the thought of having to live without you is too terrible, inconceivable for me. Never, with anyone ..."

Without seeing his face, Emely sensed that he was crying. Her voice became softer and more understanding again. "But John, you know you cannot demand love."

"I know that. I was hoping that with time, if you married me, I'd do anything ..."

"Married you?" Her voice turned angry again.

"I'd go to jail and serve the punishment for all those terrible things Ronald and I did to you."

He was silent for a few moments. "I'll die for you, if you want."

She wanted to add something to the theme of marriage, but what he said now touched her so deep that she remained speechless. No one had ever said something like that to her before. No one in the world had ever loved her enough to be ready to die for her.

"I promise I'll let you go," he said after a while. "I tell myself that there is life without you and when I'm strong enough ..." He broke off, sobbing again.

Emely sat still, not knowing what to do. She wanted to push him away, but was unable.

"I know you're not happy with me. I love you too much to keep you here against your will for much longer. ... I will let you go, I promise."

She could hold on no longer. However hard she tried to stop it, a tear escaped from her right eye and slid down her cheek. She didn't want him to see her cry, but found it impossible to keep back the tears that so badly wanted to come out.

After a few seconds, she took his hand. "John, let's go in."

He listened to her this time and let her go. His head bent down, he walked beside her forlornly, still holding her hand.

Emely stopped for a few moments and admired all that beauty. It was so nice out there. A slightly humid breeze, full of scents from the trees, was announcing the arrival of winter. At least that was what it smelled of. The sun had long set and the moon, perfect and shining, ruled the sky. The stars were incredibly bright. Then she looked at John, who was still looking in another direction remorsefully, and they went on toward the house.

When they got in, John proposed a nightcap.

Emely was still restless and accepted the suggestion. "Scotch, please," she said. "A double."

He poured their drinks and added some ice. Still ruminating over his words, Emely sat down on an oversized sofa. She lifted Kitty and stroked her stomach.

John sat next to Emely and before she was able to stop him, he placed his head in her lap, like a child. Knowing that in this state he could not harm her, she didn't push him away. She stroked his hair and shoulders, smiling. What's happening to him could be interpreted as my revenge, she thought. He was suffering, hurting inside so badly that he was crying in her lap, wailing and sobbing like a baby. Was this not what she had wanted? Had she not wanted him to suffer as she had? She wanted him to pass out with horror in the end, just like she had done. Yes, she wanted all this. What he was experiencing was only the beginning. She would get him into a position where he'd ask her to kill him and save him from such a miserable life. She wanted him to get sick from the torture she would inflict on him. And when she finished with him, it would be Ronald's turn and his suffering would be a thousand times worse. She would shoot his limbs one at a time so that he would lie there in front of her, asking for mercy, but she ....

She looked around the room and noticed a metal poker leaning against the fireplace. She shivered from head to toe. Her eyes could see clearly again and her breathing became inaudible. If I hit him on the head ....

Calmly she lifted her right hand and slowly moved it toward the poker, which was only a couple feet away. She kept looking at John's head shaking in her lap and her own right hand at the same time. Her moment had finally arrived. The moment she had been waiting for all that time. Oh God, please, don't abandon me now. Finally, a unique opportunity has presented itself. I can't mess up now.

Her hand was nearly by the poker. Only a little farther, only a little. This is such an opportunity. It's now or never.

Her fingers touched the poker. God, please. I have to grab the poker and then strike with all my might. Easy, anyone could do it.

She was holding the poker, looking at John's head. I only have to hit it. Just one strike and it'll all be over. The door to freedom will be open and all my suffering ended. I'll go home.

All her muscles tensed, her jaw tensed ... but ... but ... she couldn't do it. However much she tried to persuade herself, she couldn't go through with it. How could she? She pulled her hand back and put it on John's head again. His short hair created a pleasant feeling on her palm. She stroked him perfectly calmly, staring at one of the paintings on the wall. The question, What should I do? reverberated around her head.

*

Before locking her door, he hugged her gently and kissed her forehead.

Emely sat on the edge of her bed and with her head in her hands thought about everything that had happened over the last few months. She wanted to concentrate on a single thought, but her mind darted in all directions and however hard she tried she couldn't stop it. The tears were streaming, but she didn't know whether they were from sadness or from John's words that had reached into her heart. She was angry at herself. Why didn't I hit him? I'm such a fool! Why didn't I finish him off?

The thought of overcoming him at some point when he became careless had given her hope and the will to live, made it possible for her to survive there. It was always in her mind. Whenever she felt miserable, she thought of this and felt better. And what have I got left now? How will I fight my way to freedom now? He'll never let me go. Damn it, I should've hit him.

She struck her right hand against the damp wall so that a dull thud could be heard, but all it achieved was to make her hand hurt. She screamed and burst into hysterical tears, crying for a long time. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed her body so that she collapsed onto the bed. It had been a long time since she had last felt so drained of energy.

Suddenly she became aware that Kitty was next to her, looking at her sadly. She reached for the puppy and Kitty jumped onto the bed. Emely cuddled her and they both fell asleep, side by side.

Chapter 41

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Tired, John returned to his room. He had hoped so much that after confessing his love to her, she would fall into his arms and cover his face with kisses. He knew she didn't love him, but there was still a glimmer of hope in his heart that his words would soften her. In his hidden thoughts he had imagined that he would be able to hold her hands and look into her eyes all night long. He had imagined carrying her to his bed, making love for hours. But none of that happened.

He put his hand on his stomach where the familiar pain had reappeared, spreading like a wild creeper across his abdomen. His throat was burning and he couldn't get his saliva to go down. Never before had he had these problems.

What can I do? he wondered. I'd take anything if I knew it would make me feel better. These damn pains, why can't they leave me alone?

He massaged his abdomen with circular movements and thought the pain diminished by a fraction. This is how I'll feel in hell ... if it exists. Everyone talks about love, but it's nothing but suffering, he thought. I don't want to love, I want to be like I was, happy and satisfied, missing nothing.

Before going to bed, he let his T-shirt drop to the floor. If only I could take my pain off like this T-shirt and free myself from the suffering that leads nowhere. Why can't she reciprocate my love? Why doesn't she want me to love her? I can't live without her. What can I do? I'm going crazy.

He turned over onto his stomach. It's understandable she doesn't like me if I'm keeping her in that room. ... But I can't let her go, I can't live without her. What can I do?

He shook his head, wanting to chase away these thoughts, wanting to be overcome by a wave of calmness that would numb the feelings in his body. At that moment he remembered. A strong drink.

He pushed off the cover and jumped out of bed. Wearing only his underwear, he went downstairs, relieved that he had finally remembered something that would help him get through the night.

He put a bottle of vodka and a basin of ice next to the divan on which he lay. As soon as the old thoughts came back, the alcohol made his feelings of love even more intense and the sense of loneliness even more acute. If he imagined being in bed with her, kissing her silky skin, he felt a pleasant energy, but only a moment later as he became aware of the cruel reality, his stomach burned again as if a knife had been shoved into it. He took a few more sips hoping that the pain would finally disappear. And it did; the alcohol did its job. The feelings aroused by thinking about Emely increased and he found it difficult to separate his dreams from reality.

After a third glass of vodka, everything seemed much better and he decided to go to bed. Swaying, he set off for the stairs. As he passed the door leading to the basement, he stopped again and thought, What if my dreams could come true after all?

He knew she would reject him, so he walked on, but hesitated again after only a few steps. He turned back toward the door. No, I mustn't.

He stood there, thinking. A part of him was forcing him to go upstairs and another part was telling him to go to her. Which of these voices should he obey?

What if she's feeling lonely and this is just the right moment? He so wanted to turn away, but instead stood in front of the door, staring at the handle.

Finally, he set off toward the bathroom, determined to go to bed. But the pain in his stomach reappeared with such ferocity that he had to stop. I'll just give her a hug. A quick one. Yes, that's what I'll do, just a quick hug, he thought, putting the key into the lock.

The light from the hall penetrated Emely's room, revealing her lying on her left side, submersed in dreams. Quickly he pushed the door closed so that the light would not wake her. Kitty watched him, wagging her tail. He stroked her head gently and she lay on her back in the hope that he would tickle her tummy. Because of the darkness he could barely see the outline of the objects in the room. Like a cat, he crawled under the cover, pressing himself gently to Emely. To his surprise, she moved herself closer to him so that he could feel her soft skin with his body. He lay there perfectly still, afraid to move, wishing these moments would last forever.

He put his nose closer to her neck in order to smell her perfume. A shiver ran down his body. He had wanted her to be close so much and there she was, lying next to him so that he was able to feel the whole of her. He adjusted the rhythm of his breathing to hers, closed his eyes and his thoughts floated far away. It felt so good, he was with her and yet transported somewhere far away, where he would be able to rest and feel nothing.

Chapter 42

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"John!" Emely was in shock and could barely breathe. She wanted to get out of his embrace, but he was holding her so tightly that she could do nothing but wriggle. She had woken up a few moments earlier only to realize he was in her bed.

"I won't hurt you," he said stubbornly. "I needed so much to be close to you."

"But John, you promised me."

"Yes, I know, but ..."

I must act sternly but calmly and he'll leave, Emely thought. "John, I know it's not easy being alone. But that's no excuse for climbing into my bed in the middle of the night." Her voice was shrill and slightly hysterical. She was motionless now and felt as if she had found a huge poisonous spider in her bed. If she moved, it would attack her and she would die in agony. But if she remained perfectly still, there was a chance it would leave.

"I know. But whenever I'm alone I get this stomachache. I can't sleep. I don't know how to describe the pains that begin to tear at my insides only ten minutes after you're no longer with me."

"I know what you're trying to tell me." She cared very little about his pains. What about me? Who was there with me when I screamed and fainted in that grave? What was that if not pain? How dare he come here like a whimpering puppy in the middle of the night as soon as he gets a pain? She felt she was losing patience.

"I promise I won't do anything you wouldn't want me to. I wouldn't hurt you again for anything in the world. I love you and all I want is to have you in my arms for a while."

She knew he was telling the truth. What can I do? She wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words that would persuade him to leave. Then she thought of something.

She sighed audibly, like an angry teacher that had come up with a way of fooling a naughty child. "OK then. But ten minutes, no more," she said strictly.

He kissed her neck in gratitude and held her even tighter.

And so they lay there, Emely, rigid, and John behind her. They were like an old couple, where he is still in love with her but she can barely wait for him to go to sleep so she can push him away.

The minutes dragged on. In the hope of distracting herself, Emely counted the seconds in order to be able to assess when she could tell him to go. If I said ten minutes, it really will be ten minutes, not a second longer. I mustn't be lenient. After she counted to sixty twice, she felt something stir behind her. His swollen manhood was pressing against her buttocks. Oh no, she thought.

"Sorry, Emely, I can't help myself. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'll soon be gone."

She was slightly relieved, but the hairs on her arm were still standing up. She was unsure whether it was because of fear or something else. By breathing rhythmically she tried to calm the storms raging inside her. There were hurricanes, typhoons, and cyclones over which she had no control. She continued counting; it was the only sensible thing she could do. She counted and waited. Please, let him leave.

Eight times she counted to sixty, so there were two minutes left. As promised, he was motionless the whole time, his arms around her. In fact, he was too still, not moving once. What if ...?

She heard a gentle snore that answered her question. Would you believe it?

She was relieved, knowing that he wouldn't hurt her, but at the same time this was not the solution she wanted. How will I get rid of him now?

"John," she said in an undecided tone of voice. "John, wake up."

She shook in the hope that he'd wake up, but instead his grip tightened and he mumbled with pleasure.

I can't believe this, he must be pretending.

She tried to pull apart the hands clasped around her, but they were so big and heavy that she couldn't get a good enough hold. He slept like a log through it all. Unbelievable.

For a while she lay there helplessly, mulling over what she could do. I'll try again.

This time she grabbed one of his hands with both of hers and tried to move it. She succeeded partly, but only a moment later the hands were clasped together again. It seemed as if his hands and arms were not connected to the rest of his body, but wide awake and on guard.

"John, wake up!" she said again, this time in a deeper voice.

Nothing. He really must have been tired.

Not giving up yet, she shook herself like a cat a few more times, convinced this would wake him. Damn it, how can this be?

In the end she had to give in. Lying on her side, she thought about him and how he was both a vulgar ruffian, capable of murder, and as sensitive as a small child. She was amazed that a person could possess such conflicting characteristics. He was never given love, that's why he's so rough, but inside he probably isn't that bad at all. She couldn't decide what to think about him. Sometimes, when she was in a bad mood and he appeared, she hated him from the bottom of her heart. But at the same he was so kind to her and she knew he would do anything for her—except release her, of course. Often she thought that he was in fact his brother's victim, while Ronald belonged in a mental hospital.

There had been moments when she looked in John's eyes and maybe ... maybe she did not hate him all that much. And then all those things he told her that surprised and shocked her. No one had ever said so many loving things to her at the same time: "I love you ... I needed you to be close ..." were proclamations that still reverberated around her head.

How could she hate someone that loved her so much? Philip had never said so many nice things to her. From the very beginning, he seemed rather cold and she simply accepted that as a fact. She was convinced that men were unable or unwilling to confess their feelings. Oh, Philip ...

She moved away from John slightly and again felt his hardness pressing against her. How can men sleep with an erection? She smiled. Philip was not half as well-endowed. A strange energy filled her body, she trembled and smiled again. Then she became serious and berated herself for having such obscene thoughts.

She thought for a while longer, then her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter 43

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They were walking on the gravel next to a river and could barely hear each other's voices that were drowning in the sounds of the fast-flowing current. In some places the water looked like champagne. The air was imbued with the cool, refreshing spray, and the couple were happy and full of life.

They had been walking for only twenty minutes when a beautiful waterfall, about fifteen feet high, appeared in front of them. Because the water fell from such a height, it contained millions of small bubbles that glistened like precious stones. This was paradise.

When they got very close to the waterfall they were surrounded by a cloud of small droplets. He took off his T-shirt to prevent it from getting wet and she watched his wide shoulders and strong arms. His skin was nicely tanned from the sun, indicating that he often worked outside without a shirt on. Emely wanted him badly.

She started running away from him, looking back in the hope that he would understand she was playing. He immediately began chasing her like a lion. They ran around for a while next to the river, often nearly losing their balance on the gravel.

While he was pulling her toward him, the belt became undone and she fell directly into the raging river. Within a second he came after her, lifted her out as if she were a feather and carried her to the grassy area nearby. When he found a sunny place, he gently put her down, adjusting her wet hair that was in her eyes. She was still holding on to his arms for support and safety. She wanted him to embrace her, but was not sure that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She looked admiringly at his handsome eyes and lips that attracted her so much.

Emely could last no longer; she had to have him. Holding his head between her hands, she pulled it toward her. Finally, their lips merged and their tongues became entwined. At that moment she was a part of the universe, all that there is. They became one and felt an incredible energy. Only a few moments earlier she had been wet and trembling with cold and now she felt just right in his arms.

She simply had to undo his pants that still prevented the two of them from being fully united as a man and a woman.

Naked, he lay on top of her and she felt him penetrate her. She was overcome by a wave of relief and then a sharp pain. She gave a short scream, not expecting it to hurt. Clenching her teeth in order to endure it more easily, her pain soon became mingled with pleasure, filling her with feelings of ecstasy the likes of which she had never imagined. She held on to his body, stroking his hair, enjoying his kisses. At one moment she looked at the sky and saw the white clouds watching her. Then her eyes became dazzled by the sunshine and immediately her body began writhing with orgasms that followed one after the other. It was all too much for her. Her head swung from left to right, her loud moans expressing the pleasure she was feeling. She opened her eyes and became aware of reality.

The soft grass had disappeared. There was no sign of the sun. Emely was lying in bed and instead of the sun an artificial light was shining not far away. Next to her was a man looking at her with his black eyes. My God, John!

She was breathing deeply, still feeling the energy that had only a few seconds earlier raged inside her. Her fear was so intense that it turned her heart into an out-of-control pump that barely managed to push the blood around her body. She was staring in his eyes, fearfully expecting what he would do. It was just like her dream. Those wonderful lips of his that attracted her so much. And those dark eyes. She should push him away, she should stay as cold as ice. She knew exactly what she should do. But instead, she lay there, perfectly still, with her mouth open, looking into his eyes. She wanted to resist temptation, but didn't have the strength. Her mind was telling her no, but her body wanted his touch and she desired him as she had desired no man before.

As if they could read from each other's eyes, their faces moved closer together. Slowly, his lips approached hers.

Emely was rigid with fear and had nearly stopped breathing. She still had time to prevent a tragedy. All she had to do was turn her head away and berate him angrily instead of waiting, trembling with arousal.

Their faces were very close now and finally their lips touched, slowly and gently at first, then more passionately. They were both overcome by incredible relief and finally, taking courage, put their hands on each other. Time went still for them.

He lay on top of her and began kneading her back and neck. It felt so good that she could not contain herself and thanked him with loud cries for his kisses that excited every inch of her skin. She was floating as if in space, she was in his arms and his strong fingers were massaging her. She was feeling more and more relaxed and desired him beyond belief. She wanted him to take all of her.

John spent a long time kissing her lips, forehead, and neck, and then he proceeded down to her breasts. For a while he caressed her left breast, nibbling and sucking it, and then he moved to the right. His hands, meanwhile, roamed all over her: her legs, her stomach, her neck, her shoulders .... It was incredible. Emely had never felt so relaxed, had never experienced anything like it. She was moving her head side to side, enjoying the mixed sensations. He was so skillful with his hands that he was able to arouse and tickle her at the same time. He had not even penetrated her and she was ready to climax.

She, too, was pressing on his shoulders, neck, arms, stroking his head and ears. When his lips appeared above hers again and he penetrated her mouth with his tongue, she felt as if she had received a glass of water after a severe thirst. That is how much she had wanted his kisses.

His tongue traveled down along her neck, circled her breasts once more and then stopped on her stomach, working it gently. He was unshaved so his bristle was gently scratching her navel while his hands were on her breasts again. "Oh, John ..." she sighed.

She opened her eyes, looking at the light bulb illuminating the room. She thought she should not be doing this and grabbed his head with the intention of pushing him away. Tensing the muscles in her arms, instead of pushing him away and saving herself from all this sin, she pushed him even lower, to her most private place.

This was when it hit her for the first time. The first spasm was strong, followed by a few short aftershocks. An orgasm, an explosion of her senses, she was not there, for a few moments she thought she no longer existed. "Please, don't stop," she begged as soon as she came back to reality.

He gently turned her onto her stomach and massaged her back while kissing her behind her ears and on the neck, which sent waves of pleasurable tingling down her back. She had to admit to herself that he was a skilled lover who knew exactly where she was most sensitive and that was where he put his hand or nibbled her lightly. "Please, John, don't stop."

He spent over ten minutes working on her back, rubbing her behind, kissing her all over. Her pleasure surpassed all limits and she was close to another orgasm.

She wanted him from the front so that she could look into his eyes and return his kisses. She used the first moment his hands were not on her and quickly turned around.

Emely continued by pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him. She was in control, intending to take what otherwise belonged to him but was hers now. He was so strong and solid, not an ounce of fat on his stomach, every muscle clearly visible.

She kissed his chest and happily spent some time on his hairy stomach. Rubbing herself on his firm body like a seal against the ice, she enjoyed his surrender to her. Now it was she who was playing an active role and he was all hers.

His surprisingly tender moans proved that her hot lips were successful, which filled her with confidence to continue even more daringly. He attracted her so much, she desired him so much, and wanted to kiss every inch of his body.

During all this he was still caressing her breasts and stroking her back or adjusting her hair that kept falling forward. He turned her over and took her in his way.

This went on for over an hour and she was beginning to wonder if he would ever penetrate her. She was painfully aroused and her body was trembling with desire to finally feel him inside.

As if John could read her thoughts, he gently came inside her and she exclaimed with relief. His tongue explored her mouth and his left hand tenderly supported her head while their bodies moved in a unified rhythm.

Emely soon writhed in an orgasm, expressing her pleasure loudly, stroking his hair while he was gently biting her breasts.

He swayed slowly at first, like a boat on calm seas, but after a while the storm in him began to gain power and Emely could feel him more and more. She had to admit to herself that this suited her even better.

A few times John became perfectly still and she knew he must be close to a climax, but didn't want to finish the battle that was giving them both such pleasure. Emely kept climaxing, holding him close, wishing he would stay there forever.

Finally he had to give in and began to convulse with pleasure. It lasted for more than half a minute and then he lay on top of her with all his weight, breathing deeply.

They spent quite some time enjoying being so close until tiredness carried them off. Just before Emely fell asleep she thought John should go to his own room, but she was too tired and it seemed simpler to close her eyes and relinquish herself to sleep.

Chapter 44

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When in the morning Emely woke up in his arms, she shuddered, as if someone had poured ice-cold water over her. For a moment she thought that maybe it had all been just a dream, but she knew something had happened that she absolutely should not have allowed to happen. Forcefully, she freed herself from his embrace and jumped out of bed.

John looked around. His eyes were only half open. "Good morning," he said in a friendly voice.

"Morning," she replied seriously while putting on her underwear in a rush.

"I'll make us breakfast."

She said nothing, just stared at the wall as she arranged her hair.

When he had gone upstairs, she sat on the chair by the table. How could I have been so stupid? Now he will think he's free to do anything.

Her thoughts went a few hours back when she had been wrapped around him like a snake, and her face grimaced with disgust. I should've never let him do that. Now he'll never let me go.

Deliberately she put on the most unattractive clothes she could find and torturously climbed the stairs.

Chapter 45

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While she was scrubbing her body under the shower, John made breakfast: bacon with eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and coffee. Even though it was just breakfast, the table was set perfectly, every plate in its place, juice glasses exactly two inches to the right of the plates. He kept thinking about her, trying to relive every moment he had experienced with her the night before. Never had he felt like this. Never before had he been as happy.

He could still smell her body and perfume, a scent he found intoxicating. During all this daydreaming he was swaying to and fro as if to some gentle music. But this music was played by the love in his heart rather than instruments.

When she appeared he wanted to kiss her cheeks, but changed his mind after a single footstep toward her, when he saw her rigid and cold face.

Even before she sat down, she said, "John, we must talk."

Her voice was cold and cruel and he knew exactly what she was going to tell him. If he could, he would have blocked his ears and prevented those words entering his mind. Wondering why she was so cold, he looked down and nodded.

"What we did last night ...." She corrected herself: "What happened last night .... I don't really know how it happened ...."

"It was the nicest thing I've ever experienced," he said, interrupting her angrily. "I know what you're trying to say, that it was a mistake and you don't want it to ever happen again."

"Yes, that's it exactly," she hissed.

For a few moments he looked seriously into her eyes, but found it difficult to endure their coldness. "If that's what you really want, Emely, it'll never happen again."

He put her plate on the table so that it made a loud noise and then poured some juice into her glass. When she was about to say something, he overtook her by saying dryly, "Enjoy," and sat in his chair.

Chapter 46

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They spent the next half-hour looking everywhere but at each other, like stubborn children. Emely ate half the bacon, but left the egg. Somehow the food refused to go down. She was hungry, but her thoughts were all over the place and swallowing was an effort. The thought that she would have to spend the whole morning today and tomorrow and the day after and ... with him, suffocated her.

After coffee, they went for a short, silent walk with Kitty. Kitty kept running from one to the other and then focused on sniffing instead. After the walk he took her to her room, turned around, and walked upstairs without saying a word.

From the top of the stairs he said calmly, "If there's any selling or buying to be done, please call me."

She wanted to say, OK, but this time she found it pointless to have the last word. Let it be, let him sit up there. He always gets on my nerves anyway.

She was still staring at the stairs, angrily clenching her teeth. Then she glanced at the computer, looking at the dark screen for a while. The machine was off and all she could see was the reflection of the objects in the room.

For a while she stayed like that, her thoughts elsewhere, but then she took a quick breath. The door was open. He's never forgotten to lock the door behind him.

She took a few steps toward the door, but then stopped. "We can't escape anyway, can we, Kitty?" she said out loud, and kissed the dog.

She turned on the computer and tried to focus on the stock market. Staring at various diagrams, she opened and closed windows without much thought, reflecting her bad mood. Her mind stayed on shares for a while longer and then it wandered to Philip. She took a deep breath, the pain in her heart making her feel as if she were running out of air. She was missing him so much. Then she remembered Sally and all the wonderful times they had had together. What is she doing? I bet it's something silly.

This made her smile, but then she covered her eyes and began thinking about her company, which brought her back to reality. When will he let me go? Tears started running down her cheeks. I hate him, I hate him so much.

She sobbed for a minute or two until one of the charts attracted her attention. How come the Diagram Computers shares have fallen so much? Once more she checked all the graphs that she had already looked at, but this time she paid more attention. She wasn't aware of the moment when the shares began to occupy her mind so much that she stopped thinking about her problems. She looked at the Dow Jones index with great interest as well as some other indexes that showed the changes in the value of securities. She found several opportunities for a sensible investment, but didn't want to rush it. Instead she wanted to study everything and then decide. She began thinking out loud: "If we sell Diagram Computers shares and buy Nokia shares instead, then ..."

Suddenly the perimeter alarm went off, startling her so that she spilled the glass of water that was next to her. Has he gone out and left my room open?

Her excitement grew. She looked at the monitor and the attractive opportunities, but her eyes traveled to the door and her heart began thumping. Maybe he's just testing me. The numbers and diagrams lost their appeal. She got up and stood there for a while and then sat down again.

This is my opportunity to escape. She got up again, picked up Kitty, but become hesitant again and sat down. At that moment she felt Kitty stiffen and start shaking. Something isn't right.

Strange voices could be heard upstairs. So it isn't John leaving, but someone coming. Finally it dawned on her who it could be. She began shaking with fear. "Ronald," she said quietly.

The next moment she thought, What if Kitty begins barking? She pressed her even closer and gently held her mouth. But luckily Kitty neither growled nor barked, only trembled.

Chapter 47

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John was in a foul mood. He kept thinking about his relationship with Emely and was increasingly aware that things couldn't continue as they were. When he heard the shrill sound of the alarm, he sobered up immediately and looked out the window. "Ronald, that's all I need," John grumbled. It was Friday morning, a normal working day. "What's brought him here?"

When Ronald came into the house, John was already waiting for him with a rigid expression on his face. The first thought that came to him on seeing his brother was that he must have put on at least ten pounds.

"Hi, John."

Expressionless, John said, "Hi, Ronald."

Ronald was looking at him kindly, showing his yellowed teeth.

"Unless I'm mistaken, it's Friday. Why aren't you at work?" John asked him.

"I've got a day off and I'm glad to see you too. You won't believe how much I've missed you."

John rolled his eyes, knowing that these were just empty words. He's probably worried that I've gone crazy and am going to tell everything to the police.

They sat on a large sofa in the spacious room next to the kitchen. John got up immediately when he noticed that the door to the basement was ajar. I hope that dog doesn't start barking, he thought, while saying out loud, "Would you like a coffee, or something stronger?" At the same time he was inching closer to the door to the basement.

"Both. Coffee and something stronger."

While Ronald looked around the room a bit, John calmly closed the door and walked to the liquor cabinet. He knew that Ronald's favorite drink was brandy, so he took out the bottle and decided he could also do with a glass during these tense moments. He went to the kitchen and made some instant coffee in the microwave and then came back to the living room.

Ronald said, "I won't beat around the bush. I'm getting worried about you, John. You've never been a loner and I'm amazed that you're happy in this spooky house. There's no one anywhere near." He looked around and pulled a face.

"I told you I'm not alone. I go into town at least four times a week and get one of the girls there." He deliberately laughed in a meaningfully vulgar way.

"Hmm," Ronald said. "I don't doubt it, but I still find it strange. And there's another thing ..."

He was shuffling on the sofa as if unable to find a comfortable position, while John watched him disapprovingly and thought, He gets on my nerves more and more.

"Joan and I are selling our house. We're moving to the suburbs. And lo and behold, the realtor offered me your apartment, among others." He took a quick sip. "Why are you selling your apartment?"

The damn snoop. He's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. "I'm thinking of moving, too."

"Oh yes? Where?"

"I don't know yet," John said, looking at his watch.

"You seem a bit nervous, John. In fact, you seem very different, more serious. I haven't seen a smile on your face for ages. And you never call. Joan and I are very worried."

This niceness of his is nauseating. How come I haven't noticed this before? "Oh, don't worry, I feel fine. Maybe I've caught a bug, but that's all. I feel a little drained of energy, so I probably don't look too good."

The unpleasant sound of the alarm, similar to that emitted by submarines when they are submerging, went off again, causing Ronald to spill his coffee on his pants. The hot liquid made him jump up and he swore. He wiped the stain away with his hand, while John looked out nervously. Not far from the door he noticed a rabbit.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Ronald.

"Alarm," John replied dryly. "The damn rabbit had to come to the door at this moment."

"Alarm? What use is an alarm in this lonely house with no neighbors anywhere near?"

"Precisely because there's no one around. You can never be sure."

Ronald looked at him, still rubbing his pants. "I don't know, John, you just don't seem to be yourself. Why haven't you got a dog instead? At least you'd have some company."

John nearly gave himself away by saying that he had one. But instead he said, "I don't know. Maybe I'll get an Alsatian."

"So you really are not bored here? Joan and I were thinking we'd come and visit you for a few days."

John found it difficult to control his reaction. His legs became restless, indicating that the tension in him was unbearable. "No, don't come here. I feel just great alone in this house. I've told you a hundred times."

"OK, if you say so, but I don't like this place very much."

They stared at each other for a while, speechless, until Ronald waved and got up. "If that's the case, I'll go." He kept looking around as if searching for something and only slowly moved toward the door. When he was finally there, he shook John's hand and gave him a loose hug. "You know I'm always worried about you."

"I know, Ronald. Say hello to Joan and drive carefully. Bye."

"Bye."

Chapter 48

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After the third alarm, the voices upstairs were gone. Emely clearly heard Ronald say goodbye and she felt great relief. She put Kitty on the floor and started pacing up and down the room. She knew that if Ronald saw her after he had nearly killed her once, he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. This can't go on. John can't keep me in here.

Cautiously she walked upstairs and opened the door at the top of the stairs. She walked into the living room and saw John sitting in his chair on the right, with a drink in his hand.

"Why have you left your room?" he asked sternly.

The tone of his voice came as a complete surprise, as if he had slapped her. She said, "I-I w-was worried ... and ... I wanted to ask you why Ronald came."

"And what made you think he was gone?" he asked in the same voice.

"I heard him leave."

"And then you wanted to escape."

Emely was indignant. "How can you even think that? I was so worried that I just couldn't stay in that hole any longer." She could only hope that he would believe this lie.

"And what if Ronald had come with his wife and left her here, while he went into town?"

"I didn't think of that. I thought—"

"Damn it, Emely! You must never ever leave your room. I deliberately didn't lock you in, but it was a bad idea. You've got to stay in there, as quiet as a mouse, do you understand?"

"But John ...."

"That's how it is, there's no other way."

She could feel the pressure of tears in her eyes and found it difficult to keep them back. "There is one other way," she said, her voice trembling.

"No, there isn't."

The stinging feeling in her eyes was too strong and big tears began sliding down her cheeks. "Didn't you say you'd let me go one day?"

He got up and embraced her. Kissing her hair, he said, "I'll let you go, Emely, I'll let you go very soon."

Slowly she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. She couldn't believe what he had just said. He sounded so sincere.

"Will you really let me go?" She gently took his face in her hands.

"Yes, I promise."

She kissed him on the cheek, pressed herself closer to him, and went on crying. She knew he was thinking about it. She sensed he would never say something he didn't mean.

Chapter 49

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In the evening they were both in a much better mood. John cooked them delicious lasagna and for dessert there was hazelnut cake.

"The meal was wonderful," Emely said. "I must have gained a few pounds during these past few months since I've been your guest," she joked.

"Your figure is still perfect," he said while pouring her some more Dom Perignon.

"Kitty is getting very impatient. Could we take our glasses outside?"

He nodded and carried the glasses in his left hand and took the bottle in his right. They sat on the bamboo chairs on the terrace in front of the house, enjoying the evening air filled with the scents of the forest.

"It always smells so nice here," Emely said.

"Of course, we're living in paradise."

Even though she was his prisoner and should hate this place, deep down she didn't. On the contrary, she liked it. She liked all those trees and bushes around the house. Maybe it was because she spent most of the day in that stuffy little room.

Every time she left the house she felt a jolt of energy. She tried to inhale deeply while looking at the various plants growing all around. The grass was decorated with white and purple flowers. The wall surrounding the house was barely visible, it was so overgrown by ivy. Everything was wild, and Emely liked it that way.

If he really releases me, I'll buy myself a house like this somewhere in the middle of the woods.

They clinked their twisted-stemmed glasses, laughing. Meanwhile, Kitty kept sticking her nose in various holes and wagging her tail.

A short silence occurred in their conversation and Emely really wanted to ask him once more if he truly meant what he had said earlier. Instead, she said, "The price of those Ford shares we bought a week ago rose by 7 percent."

"Super."

She noticed he was preoccupied even though he had been trying to look as if he was in a good mood. She knew him well enough to be aware of the fact that he was thinking about something, but she didn't know what. Maybe he really will let me go.

When the bottle was empty, John went to get another. As if incredibly thirsty, they quickly picked up the newly filled glasses and took a long sip.

When it was just after midnight, Emely got up, indicating that it was time to go to bed.

John took her hand. "Let's have another glass, to empty the bottle."

"Which bottle?" she joked.

"The second one, I think."

"OK, then."

She sat down, her head spinning slightly. In the hope of sobering up a bit, she took a few deep breaths. While doing this, she leaned toward him and she caught a whiff of his cologne.

"Mmmm," she said, "you smell nice."

"I'm glad you like it," he said warmly, and smiled.

She straightened up and became serious again. What am I doing? He'll think I'm seducing him. She arranged her hair with her hand. "It's best if we go to bed," she said coldly, looking into the distance.

She emptied her glass quickly and got up. "That's it, it's empty."

John got up too, and followed her while she swayed inside. Then he locked up.

As they were walking downstairs, Emely felt John watching her. She had a feeling that he would touch her at any moment. That was what she feared most. She was still embarrassed about what had happened the night before and was determined to resist with all her might if he tried something again.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Emely was embraced by the cold, musty air. Every time she went toward her room, this smell irritated her nostrils. She hated damp and moldy buildings. She thought of the wretched people who had to live in city sewers, sharing their space with rats, while sewage traveled past them. Terrible, she thought.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. "No!" she hissed as if she had spotted Kitty peeing on the carpet.

John pulled her closer and began kissing her neck. His left hand skillfully reached under her top.

"No, John," she said again.

He was holding her so tight that it seemed pointless to resist. Her only weapon was a cold, strict voice, so she repeated, "John, don't you understand when I tell you to stop this immediately." However, her voice was much less decisive than earlier.

"Yes, I understand," he said in a whisper.

When she felt his hand on her stomach and his hot tongue twirling around her right ear, something began happening to her. She felt herself relaxing and submitting to his embrace.

"No, John, let me go immediately," she said, but only a second later the first sigh could be heard from her mouth.

Waves of lust engulfed her. Only a few moments earlier she could not have imagined doing it again with him, she was convinced of this—she only rarely changed her decisions. But what she was feeling now was much stronger than her mind. She knew she should not be doing this, but at the same time volcanoes were bubbling up inside her, threatening to explode. And John was the only one who could put these fires out and return her body to normal functioning.

Why can't I resist him? she asked herself, but immediately desired him so much that as soon as she could she turned around to kiss those wonderful lips. The touch of his tongue made her tingle from head to toe. She submitted to the strong, skillful hands that caressed her while opening the buttons on her shirt and undoing her pants. There was a danger that her clothes would drop to the floor and she would appear in front of him completely naked. He would be able to do with her whatever he wanted. There would be no way back. I have to stop him, I have to interrupt this curse.

But instead of pushing him away, she backed toward the bed. John lifted her in his arms, and carried her over like a child. She was naked in his hands, her body trembling with fear and desire.

"John, this is not a smart decision. Let me go, we mustn't do this."

He put her on the bed and placed his lips to her breasts, sucking them. At the same time he removed his T-shirt with one swoop and revealed his muscular body.

Emely could last no longer. She turned him over and started kissing him on the face, neck, and chest. She marveled at his firm body. Like a snake she wriggled on top of him, pinning him down with her quick, hot tongue. The more he sighed, the more intent she became. This moment was hers and she could do what she wanted.

Her hands moved along his abdominal muscles that were clearly defined. She directed her lips toward his navel, caressing his chest. Just as she was about to undo his pants and release him from the tight jeans, he flipped her over again. She was slightly angry at him for not letting her completely undress him, but soon relinquished her body to his masterful hands and gentle lips.

He lay on top of her. The touch of his warm skin and the pressure of his weight filled her with such incredible joy that she had to keep her eyes closed. He supported himself on his arms in order to halve the weight of his body on hers and kissed her lips, her eyes and forehead, and dropped down to her neck. Emely felt his tongue behind her ear and trembled with pleasure. Then he nibbled her nipples and travelled lower and lower.

She was getting closer and closer to an orgasm, surprised at how easy it was to give herself to him. What exactly was it about him that attracted her so much she was unable to resist him any longer? She knew she was making a mistake, but however hard she tried, her desire for his closeness prevailed over reason. The touch of his warm skin and his continued kisses aroused all her senses and she kept writhing with pleasure and thanking him for it out loud. Her hands kept caressing his shoulders and his muscular arms amazed her. She enjoyed feeling the tips of his hair that felt like a soft brush.

Then it hit her for the first time. It was so strong that she screamed. Spasms ripped her body and she thought she would faint. She had the first orgasm even before he entered her and she could not believe this. No other man had ever aroused her as much.

When she calmed her breathing, they swapped sides. Now she lay on top of him, hugging his face with both her hands. While their tongues kept intertwining, she stroked his ears and hair. She loved this position, drowning in his kisses, deciding how long he would be under her control. She suddenly wanted to see him from behind and indicated he should roll over.

His back was strong and her hands slid along his muscles while she kissed every inch of his body. She squeezed his firm arms, rubbing her body against his back. The warmth of his skin under hers and the feel of his athletic physique had an effect on her that made her want to never let go. She could enjoy staying like that all night, having him to herself. She began kneading the cheeks of his backside; she even bit into one of them and was amazed at how firm they were. Moving on to his legs she kissed even his feet.

And then she found herself under him again. Her kisses and caresses had clearly filled him with such ecstasy that he could no longer wait, and Emely sensed that he too was about to climax.

Then he finally penetrated her. The first wave of relief splashed over the insides of her legs all the way up to her breasts. Although it hurt her a little at first, a moment later she was already transported far away, into the universe, where there was nothing but pleasure and warmth. She felt a fever that wanted to get out of her and knew she was just about to come.

John was moving faster and faster, again leaning on his arms so that only a part of his body was pressing on hers. When she felt his tongue playing with hers it happened again. It felt even stronger than the first time and her head moved back as she screamed. At that very moment she felt his teeth on her nipples, which only strengthened the already very intense orgasm. She had a feeling she would pass out. It had never been as good with anyone else.

After a while, when she caught her breath again, she lay on top of him and enjoyed being more active, deciding what rhythm they moved in, while he trembled under her, sighing loudly. She wanted to give him what she had already experienced twice. She wanted that the rhythm dictated by her would hit him with the same impact as she had been hit so that he would moan in her arms.

She was skilled as she sailed atop of him, kissing his cheeks, ears, and neck. Her firm breasts slid along his body as she caught herself wishing this would never end.

She was still on top when he began thrusting into her. It surprised her and she could feel him even deeper inside her and this feeling began carrying her away again. John could no longer last, sighing loudly while his hands scratched her back.

At one moment he flipped her over so that he was on top. And as he thrust into her, faster and with more force, she felt the end was close. The mixture of a slight pain and the warmth they shared brought the tension in her body to a climax that she found difficult to control. The feeling that he would soon orgasm filled her with such gratitude and joy that she had to bite her lips. She was once more transported somewhere high, her body tensing, her head flopping back as she screamed again.

Only a few seconds later he also began thrashing around as he kept thrusting into her. Her hands were kneading his neck and when she could last no longer, she brought his head closer so that she was able to glue herself to his lips. He was still moaning as they kissed, while his body contracted rhythmically. Oh, how nice it was to feel him inside her as he was slowly calming down.

Now the full weight of his body was on hers, but a moment later he rolled off, lay next to her, and put his head on her breasts.

"I love you, Emely," he said before falling asleep.

She, too, was so tired that she found it impossible to stay awake.

He really is special, Emely thought just before her strength left her completely and she was transported into a deep sleep.

Chapter 50

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In the morning, Emely woke up first. She slipped out of his embrace and moved to her side of the bed. John woke up too and looked at her lovingly. He leaned over, but she swiftly moved her head and looked away, with her lips pressed close together. John spent some time looking at her and then stroked her shoulders, but she would not budge and continued staring at the wall, tensing her muscles in anger.

He got up without a word, dressed, and left the room. Emely could hear the key turn in the lock—he did not forgot this time. She felt terrible, regretted everything they had done, and swore this really was the last time. She didn't want to have a love affair with someone whom she hated. She asked herself, Where is all this leading?

When an hour and a half later he came back, carrying a tray with fresh rolls and coffee, Emely wasted no time.

"John," she said, "we really must talk."

"I don't have the time," he said, and picked up Kitty. "I have things to do at home. I'll be back late in the afternoon and I'm taking Kitty with me."

"But John—"

"We'll talk at dinner," he said, already running up the stairs.

He came back in a few minutes with some ham and cheese sandwiches. Finally, he put a plastic bottle of water on her table. "Bye!" he said quickly and then he was gone.

"But ...."

Chapter 51

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Emely kept repeating in her mind the speech she intended to give in the evening when he came back. I'll tell him in no uncertain terms that I don't love him and therefore don't want to have sex with him.

Impatiently she moved to the other end of the room with her hands on her hips. If he really loves me, he'll understand and leave me alone.

She sat on a chair and tried to direct her attention to the numbers on the computer screen. How dare he mislead me and even climb into my bed? I should be more decisive. She was clenching her teeth in anger. Damn it, he always attacks at just the right moment.

She got up and paced the room. And he's nothing special in bed anyway. She bit her bottom lip, knowing this was not true and that she had to extinguish the arousal brought on by thoughts of their last meeting.

She looked at the clock. When will he come? It was nearly two, but it felt like it was at least seven in the evening. The time was dragging on.

Once more she looked at the screen and stared at it for a while. Then she turned the computer off. I'm going to go crazy in this hole. At the thought that she was losing it, Emely considered, It's not that bad. I must think of all the prisoners who spend their whole life locked up. If they can stand it, so can I. If I think like this, it'll be easier for me. She sat on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her, with the intention of meditating. She straightened up and took a few deep breaths in order to calm down. It's easier for prisoners. They know they can't escape and become resigned to their fate, but I have false hopes.

She put both her hands on her knees and slowly closed her eyes. She began relaxing her neck by moving her head forward, then to the left and the right and back again for a minute. She tried to focus on her mind in an attempt to empty it of thoughts. Why didn't I die in that grave? Then I wouldn't have to endure all this.

Her body was slowly relaxing, but she could still feel tension in her stomach. She tried to imagine lying on a beach, waves lapping in front of her. This was supposed to wash away all those pesky thoughts, but it didn't work. She couldn't imagine the sea in that basement room. I hate him. How dare he come to my room at night? How dare he touch me like that?

She looked at the clock again unintentionally. Time is not important for a relaxed mind and the hands had hardly moved since she had looked at it last. Where the hell is he?

Then she closed her eyes again, telling herself that she was perfectly calm. I'm perfectly calm ... perfectly calm ... perfectly calm ....

After a couple minutes she sat on the edge of the bed, giving up. She said out loud, "How can I be calm when he leaves me here waiting all day long? I'm going to go nutty. And what am I supposed to do all this time?"

Chapter 52

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The alarm woke her around eight in the evening, catapulting her out of bed. Within seconds she arranged her hair and renewed her makeup. Just as she was highlighting her eyes, she heard the key in the lock and straightened up.

Kitty greeted her first, jumping on her happily.

"Hi!" John said.

"Hi."

"I've brought us a Chinese takeout. Let's all go upstairs."

They were silent during dinner. Emely could see that John was tense even though he was trying to be nice. She decided to begin the planned conversation after coffee.

Dessert was a chocolate mousse with whipped cream and while she ate it, Emely kept telling herself it was time to say everything she had spent the afternoon planning to say.

Finally she plucked up the courage and began talking in a quiet voice. "John, I'd like to talk to you."

"So would I," he said.

"What?" She looked into his eyes and forgot her speech.

"I've been thinking about us a lot. You know I love you and I'm glad in a way that you showed me something I didn't know before."

She saw that his hand was trembling. She looked at his face again.

"For me, there'll always be only you. Wherever I go, I'll dream about you. No other woman will exist for me."

She listened with her lips slightly parted. His voice was serious, with a slight tremble.

"This is our last supper. Tonight, I'll travel far away and tomorrow I'll inform the police and they'll come and set you free."

Emely's heart went cold and began thumping. What's he saying ... it can't be ... no, this can't be true ....

"I know you don't love me, Emely. I hoped you'd gradually grow fond of me, but ...." He looked away and then back at her.

Tears began flowing, slowly sliding down her face as she continued to listen.

"I know it's not possible, I know you'll never love me. I realized this in the morning."

She watched the first tear slide from his eye and at that moment she wanted to put her arms around him. But she didn't, afraid he'd change his mind, afraid to alter his decision in any way. Instead, she stared at him, crying. Everything she had heard was too good to be true.

"The realtor told me this morning that my apartment was sold. I've also sold all my shares and I'm proud to be able to say that I got seven million, seven hundred and sixty thousand dollars from my account." He stopped for a moment, giving her a gentle smile. "Congratulations, Emely! You've managed to turn two million into nearly eight in four months." He pointed at a big red bag that was completely full. "Just think, it's all in there."

She stared at the bag next to her, confused. She was about to say something, but chose not to.

"I don't want your money, Emely. I'll leave it here and you can do what you want with it."

She couldn't believe her ears and the tears flowed even faster. She could never have imagined anything like this. Only now she realized how strong his love was for her. He was willing to give up all his money to prove that he loved her. She was astonished and wanted to hug him, to kiss those wonderful lips that had told her so many lovely things, but all she did was to keep looking at him, swallowing the tears pouring down her face. She was looking at his face that had never before seemed so attractive to her.

"But John," she said, sobbing, "I'd like you to take the money."

"No, that's why I sold the apartment. I've learned quite a bit while we traded with all those shares. Maybe I'll manage to earn something as well." He got up and kissed her forehead.

She didn't resist, didn't move her head. She remained still and went on looking at him.

He knelt next to her and took her hands. "I'm sorry, Emely. I know that the words with which I could justify the horrible deeds Ronald and I committed do not exist. I had you shut in this house against your will and I know how much you've suffered. I am so sorry for everything."

He put his head in her lap and only a few moments later she felt his tears through her skirt.

She began stroking his head. "I know, John, I know," she said, sobbing.

After a while, he got up. He took the bag and accompanied her to her room, and embraced her while she stood there helplessly, not knowing what to say.

It was all happening too fast. Only a few hours back she was a prisoner, but now he was telling her she'd be free in a few hours, that he'd leave in a few moments and she'd never see him again. She wanted to stop time, didn't want him to leave her that minute, wanted to think about it. But at the same time she couldn't believe that he'd really go, and leave her, free. If what he says is true, I'll be able to fly wherever I want to tomorrow. While he had been kissing her forehead, cheeks, and eyes, she had stood there like a puppet, dreaming about all the places she'd visit as soon as she was out. Free, free! This word kept going through her head and then she thought of Philip, Sally, and her other friends. She was so happy that she'd be able to see them again. And finally she would be able to run her company again.

It'll all be different now, she thought. I won't work as much, there's no point. I'm going to go on vacation. To China, somewhere far, far away.

Suddenly she became afraid that John would change his mind, and disappointment would hit her in the face again. So she deliberately stopped dreaming. No, John is not like that. If he has made a decision, he'll stick to it.

Then another thought flashed to the forefront, about the time she had spent in that house. She no longer remembered the painful moments, only the pleasant ones that she had spent with him. The main thing is that I've survived. Nothing else matters.

John embraced her for the last time, cupped her face in his hands, and gently kissed her on her mouth. "Bye, Emely, I'll always be thinking about you."

These were his last words as he turned around and locked the door for the last time. She still could not believe that this was real and not a dream. She wanted to call him back and tell him to wait a bit. She had not even said goodbye to him. She stared in complete confusion at the door that had closed so many times before. This was to be the last time. Tomorrow, the police would come and take her away from this cursed house. But was it really that cursed? She had grown to like it a little recently. She shook her head, trying to banish these thoughts that made her angry. Tomorrow I'll be free, free.

She knew a long and strenuous night lay ahead. How could she close her eyes after news like that? If only I had a sleeping pill.

She felt alive, not ready to sleep, her head full of mixed feelings. She was happy, so happy she wanted to scream, but at the same time she was missing something and this was making her stand there without moving. He said that they'd come to get me in the morning. What does that mean: eight o'clock, eleven o'clock? I'm going to go mad.

Her thoughts returned to John. She could still feel his last kiss. She touched her lips lightly and when she thought of never seeing him again, she felt a pang in her heart. He made me suffer, but I will miss him.

She looked at the door that would open the next day. I'll miss him so much. She dropped her head low and her eyes stopped on the red bag. Why didn't he take the damn money? She should have insisted.

Emely lay on the bed and forced her eyes shut. The burning pain in her eyes announced a new wave of tears trying to emerge. Tears of both happiness and sadness.

Chapter 53

_________________________

"... She's not a woman who would spend her time in the kitchen, she wants more: success, independence ..." Robert lifted his head, wondering what else he could say about the heroine of his story. He was writing about a person he had never actually seen, but about whom he seemed to know more than most people did. He had interviewed all her friends, acquaintances, neighbors, and anyone else who knew anything at all about Emely Donnovan. From them he had learned mainly good things about this woman. The walls of his small office were covered with various photographs and sometimes he felt that he was obsessed with Emely. She was constantly in his head; sometimes he even dreamed about her.

He took a sip of cold coffee that was poured an hour earlier. He spent a while longer in thought, and then he closed his laptop, indicating that he had had enough. Besides, he had a meeting with George Paris, a former Donnovan Corporation employee.

They met in the garden of a bar and Robert found himself looking at a man with long hair and sad eyes. He also had an earring. Soon they began chatting.

"I started off looking after all the contracts and other important documents that are a part of every stock exchange deal," said George. " I remember the first few days, when I was rather absentminded. Emely was always nice to me ...."

*

"George, please buy twenty-five thousand lots of Zone Mider shares."

"You mean two thousand five hundred, don't you, Emely?"

"No, George, I meant twenty-five thousand. Quite a bit of money came into our account today, and I have a feeling those shares will go up tomorrow."

"But Zone Mider is nothing special. They made a loss twice in the last five years and only a small profit the other three years."

Emely's eyes showed impatience. "Whatever, just do what I say."

George nodded and immediately entered a purchase order into his computer.

The next day, what Emely had predicted actually happened. Zone Mider published good results and the price of their shares grew by 4 percent by the end of the day.

When Emely went out for a while, one of George's colleagues said, "The boss got it right again. I don't know how she does it."

George looked at him with a dour expression and took a deep breath. Ever since he had worked there, he had been in love with Emely. He admired her beauty, but was even more attracted to her desire for success and the way she thought. As he looked at the computer screen, he imagined her returning his kisses while he held her tight.

"What's happening with bonds?" his colleague, Lara, asked him.

"Oh, nothing special, there's no point in buying anything at the moment. Everyone has gone mad over shares, so the demand for bonds is way down."

"And when will all the changes take place?"

"I don't know. I have a feeling that everything will drag on for another month or so.—No, hang on a minute. Emely said this morning that it would be two weeks. We'll see."

"Shall I bring you a coffee or something?" Lara offered.

"Thank you, Lara, I've got everything I need." He gave her a friendly look. Except Emely, he thought with bitterness. As soon as Lara set off for her desk, he began thinking of his boss. That body ... she's so smart ... so beautiful ....

"George, sell the Royal Chicken bonds. Remind me again, how many do we have?" He shook when he heard Emely's voice.

"Hmm, unless I'm mistaken, we've got four thousand five hundred lots."

She smiled, showing her perfect, white teeth. George felt a lump in his throat that was stopping him from breathing.

"Look at the file. I'd like the exact number."

"I'm on it. OK, it's five thousand five hundred. I don't know why I thought it was four."

Emely smiled once more and he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. Damn it, I'm such an idiot. Only yesterday I saw how many there are. I always say something stupid.

He immediately carried out the transaction as ordered. He knew she needed the money in order to buy the securities that would bring in more money at that particular moment. Nearly always, she had a good instinct for investments.

*

"Was this really true?" asked Robert. "Did she really always know exactly what to buy?"

George shook his head. "I had been working for Emely from the beginning—as her first employee—and had experienced her good and bad forecasts. I can still remember seeing her for the first time. She was waiting for me in a shabby office which held only three desks and one computer. A strong smell of musty furniture hit me as soon as I entered."

*

"We'll remodel the office soon," she told George. "Please, sit down."

He sat on a battered chair and looked at her leaning on a desk. Her appearance was nothing special; she was wearing a pair of slacks and a white cotton shirt. He liked her face, but he admired her body even more.

"I'll be quite open with you. May I call you George?"

"Yes, no problem."

She put her hands on her knees. "I've not started trading yet, I intend to begin next week. I've got quite a lot of experience in trading and decided to set up on my own, after having worked in a stockbroking company."

"I see," he said.

"I need someone who will take care of my contracts and later sell and buy for me."

"Aha."

He was looking at her symmetrical face and reddish-brown hair, at the same time noticing the moldy patches on the walls which hadn't seen paint for at least ten years. The office disgusted him and he found the thought of working for a company that hadn't even begun doing business less than attractive. He had had a few interviews already and been rejected everywhere. He was in his last year at college, studying economics, and was interested in becoming a broker or something similar. Everywhere he had applied to, he was told to come back when he had finished his course. But he needed work urgently since he had had an argument with his mother, packed his clothes, and left the house where he had grown up without even saying goodbye. Nothing in the world could make him go back.

"It'll be a bit hard at first because I don't have much capital to play with yet. In about a year I should be able to apply for a bank loan. So, are you interested at all?"

"Of course I am," George lied.

In fact she hadn't told him anything that he would find attractive, but he knew he'd have to take the job. Nothing else was out there for him. Whatever the job, he needed it.

The next day they began organizing the office. Emely bought some paint and brushes and they painted the walls first and then the window frames. Next, they varnished the desks and in four days they were in business. Emely bought a big plant, which added some refreshing scenery to their working environment.

At the beginning, there was not much work. They bought a few securities and then waited, doing analyses. The stock market was going through a quiet phase. But only a month later, things changed. The price of the shares they had bought began going up drastically, which meant the company's capital was growing proportionately.

"Shouldn't we buy some bonds, too?" George suggested.

"No," she said, "can't you see we're doing alright."

"That's true, but having all our capital in shares could be risky. Just like prices go up, they may fall again."

"If you think so. I do hope these prices keep going up for a while longer."

And they did. The prices went up for a few months. As soon as the value of a particular type of shares fell by over 20 percent, she sold them and bought others. In a few months she managed to treble her capital. These were days—and nights—filled with tension.

I'll stay here until I find another job, he thought at the beginning, but later he got so engrossed working for Emely that the thought of working somewhere else never entered his head. His salary barely covered the rent, and he knew that Emely was unable to give him more. The knowledge and experience he was gaining seemed much more important. He admired her as she drew the diagrams, explaining to him why she thought the price of certain shares would grow. She told him things you couldn't learn from books. And yes, her forecasts did come true, usually. Until that dark day.

*

Emely was the first to come to work and when George entered the office, it already smelled of coffee. He never found it difficult to go to work and was always pleased to be able to spend a day with her. But this morning she seemed absentminded. As if she was sensing something terrible. And it really was terrible. As soon as she turned on her computer, she gasped. All the share prices were falling rapidly, by 6 percent at first, but within the next half-hour, by 8 percent. It was clear there was a general panic on the stock exchange, something that hadn't happened for several years.

With horror in their eyes Emely and George stared at the computer monitor and the rapidly falling numbers displayed on it. George had a stomachache, watching her going through this agony. He would have done anything to be able to help her. But nothing could be done and they both knew it. It was like watching a house burn down with no firefighters in sight.

Those were terrible days. Every day they both hoped that the shares would begin to go up again, but they never did. It took two weeks before Emely managed to sell most of the shares. She came to work without makeup and had no will to live.

She told him to close the office, but this time it was George who insisted that they had to persevere.

"But I can't pay you," she said.

"It doesn't matter, you'll pay me when you can." He kept it to himself that he had to pay his rent; otherwise the landlady would evict him.

"No, George, I think it's best if I start working for someone else again. It's clear I'm not fit to run my own company."

"Of course you are. This was just a very useful experience. All is not yet lost."

He kept telling her this every day and after a while she recovered. Together they decided on the proportions of money they would invest in secure papers, the proportion set for low-risk shares, and the proportion for high-risk ones. And so they created their investment portfolio and laid the guidelines for future investments.

"Profits won't be quite so high," Emely said, "but at the same time we won't be able to lose most of our capital."

"Yes, slow and secure is better," George agreed.

*

During the next few years they slowly and securely increased their capital. George bragged to his friends about the Internet investments he was making with his boss. "Since I've been working for her, my capital has grown all along."

After a while he saved up some money and began investing it like Emely did, simply buying the same securities she bought, only a smaller number of them. This was his capital and all the profits were his.

"In a year," he told his friends, "the increase is 30 to 100 percent."

"What? You invest one thousand dollars at the beginning of the year and at the end of the year, you have two thousand. Is that right?" asked one of his friends.

"That's right," George said proudly.

He boasted so much that, later, one of his friends said, "Listen, George, I've got some money. Why don't you buy shares and bonds for me and increase my capital, and I'd give you a share of my profits?"

George gave him a surprised look. "I don't know if I can do that."

He told Emely about the suggestion and she waved it off. "It's not quite that simple."

"Listen, George, why not?" she said the next morning. "Why don't we sign a contract stating that we manage his capital? Banks and other stockbroking companies do it, why shouldn't we? If he wants to invest his money, let him. Our risk is minimal."

George stared at her. He didn't know when he began finding her eyes so beautiful. A number of times now he had caught himself thinking about kissing her on the mouth while he was gazing into her eyes. Coming back to reality, he blinked and said, "Yes, why not?"

*

Robert was listening to George, who was happily relating this story, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His readership was falling. The current surveys showed only 10 percent still read them.

When he went back to the office, his boss cornered him. "Listen, Miles, it's time you finished the stories about Emely Donnovan. People are fed up with reading about her."

But Robert didn't want to end it yet. These ungrateful people! When it was announced that she had disappeared, she became a star overnight. But now hardly anyone talks about her. "Perhaps I should write something fictional about her."

The editor leaned on the doorframe and thought for a while. "I don't know if it will help. And her relatives could sue us. The fact is, her story is already forgotten and people are expecting something new."

"People are always expecting something new. I'm going crazy thinking about something new to write."

"It's your job and you've been doing it very well until now. I'll give you a chance to write just one more article about Emely Donnovan, and then the story is finished."

"Only one?" Robert said with despair. "But I've only started writing about her."

"Listen, you've been writing about this woman for more than three months. I admit the articles were popular in the beginning, but that's in the past now. Understood? It's time for something new."

Robert stared into empty space, feeling anger brewing inside him. "OK, OK, I'll write the last article about her."

And his chance of the promotion he had hoped for so much would also sail away with this article. He thought of Zoya, who was spending her days in a wheelchair and he cursed his life. Then he straightened up and decided to be more decisive. He quickly turned off his computer, tidied up his desk, and set off for the center. He could barely wait to put his arms around his daughter again.

Chapter 54

_________________________

Emely had a feeling that only a few hours had passed when the alarm went off. Oh no. He's changed his mind. Damn it, I knew he'd never let me go.

Her heartbeat doubled. Within a flash she pulled back the cover and got out of bed. She noticed Kitty slowly approaching the door, growling slightly. Hmm, she's never growled before.

Emely picked up the dog and tried to calm her by stroking her neck. Emely heard the door being opened and closed noisily. He must have forgotten something.

She could hear footsteps on the stairs, which meant he had searched the ground floor and was on his way upstairs. He stayed there for a while. For nearly fifteen minutes he kept slamming doors and then descended the stairs to the basement.

Maybe it's the police, she thought. Didn't he say they'd come in the morning? Who knows, maybe he changed his mind on the way and called them so that I don't have to wait all night. My kind John.

The metal handle on the door moved. The door shook, but the lock didn't yield. At that moment all the air left Emely's lungs. She put her hands on her mouth and nearly screamed. What if it's Ronald?

She turned off the light, but immediately realized she had made a mistake and put it on again. If it was Ronald, he must have seen the light escaping through the gap under the door.

She put Kitty on the floor and the dog started barking ferociously.

Emely whispered, "Oh no, stop!"

She picked her up again and began looking for an object with which she could defend herself, realizing in horror that there was nothing apart from the chair. With her hand on her mouth she stared at the door, praying it would not open. Both she and Kitty were shaking.

The footsteps moved away from her room. Emely stood motionless, trying to decipher the sounds coming from upstairs. She prayed that it would be anyone but Ronald. He's looking for the keys.

Soon he was in front of her door again. A short silence was followed by a loud bang, which made Emely jump back. She looked around the room for anything she could use. Whoever it was, was hitting the door more and more violently and she was horrified to see the blade of an ax that had found its way through the wood.

She couldn't keep quiet any longer. Standing by the wall and trembling in fear, she screamed, "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

But there was no reply.

He was again attacking the door. That was her answer.

"Help!" she shouted, even though she knew there was no point.

The blade of the ax was advancing through the thick door. She begged God to help her, covering her ears against the loud noise—she could not bear to hear it. Finally the door was smashed. And then she saw him.

Chapter 55

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Blake Crouse was an uncomplicated and calm man who had just turned sixty, with still dark but already graying hair, and kind eyes framed by thick eyebrows. He sat behind his desk, tired from a difficult day. He felt he had aged ten years since taking over the leadership of the Donnovan Corporation. These damn meetings and negotiations all day long. I can't take it anymore.

He wanted a vacation, somewhere by the sea so that he could walk along the beach and forget all the problems, but he knew it was impossible. Even as it was, he couldn't accomplish everything he had to do in a day.

He picked up his appointment calendar, prepared for him for the next day by his secretary, Maria. His first meeting was at seven in the morning. Damn it, let it all go to hell. Oh, the mess you dragged me into, Emely.

His eyes were closing when the phone rang. How many times have I told Maria to lower the volume on this thing. "Hello!" he nearly shouted into the phone.

"It's Alexandra. I'd like to talk to you."

She's all I need. Their relationship had deteriorated during the last few weeks. Alexandra was a board member responsible for finance.

"Yes, no problem, but not today. My head is about to burst." He got a glass of water and emptied it in a single gulp.

"No, this is crucial. It can't wait till tomorrow. We've got to meet now."

"What could be so important that it can't wait until tomorrow?"

"I'll tell you. I'll be in your office in a few minutes."

"Hang on ..." He wanted to say to her to tell him over the phone, but the line was dead already. "Oh, let her go to hell."

*

"I don't know how you could sign a contract with Agona," she shouted at him as soon as she sat down in his office.

The moment he heard her voice, he felt as if someone had pressed directly on his brain. He looked at Alexandra. Her appearance was striking, with long, jet-black hair and gray, domineering eyes.

"Listen, I have no intention of explaining my decisions to you."

"They've already misled us once. I don't know if you're up to date with everything, but we've been involved in a lawsuit with them for the last two years."

That pain in his head again. "Of course I know, I led the case myself."

"Then you should know that they owe us two million dollars."

"Yes, my dear Alexandra," he said cynically. "The problem is that you don't know that there has been a change in management and that they're ready to settle their debt within two months."

"I think they're buried in debt and everything they do is a lie."

Blake looked at his watch in order to let her know he had no intention of arguing with her much longer. "We'll see. I think it's prudent to give them a chance."

"And I think it isn't," she said sharply.

Blake said, "Listen, Alexandra, I don't give a hoot about your opinion. I don't know if you realize this, but your job is to deal with accounting matters and not to manage the company."

"I'm quite clear about my place, but I'm not so sure that you're aware of the negative consequences of your decisions. I'd like to help you—"

"Oh, I know how you want to help me. And what negative consequences are you talking about?" His head was going to explode.

"For example, your decision about a general 7 percent pay increase. Do you know what that means?"

"Of course I know. It means that people will earn more. Which means they'll be more content and more productive. And besides, there hasn't been a pay increase for two years."

"Of course there hasn't, it means a lot of money. You don't seem to realize that 7 percent means our expenses will rise by up to five million dollars. Have you thought about that?"

That was it. "If you're really bothered, say something at the next management board meeting or call a meeting of the supervisory board. I'm asking you to leave my office now and never show up in here again without being invited." His voice was strict and firm, which didn't happen often.

She looked at him angrily for a while, and it was clear that she was about to explode as well. Then she got up and left, slamming the door so hard that Blake had to bite his tongue to drown the pain in his head.

"Let her go to hell," he said out loud. He picked up his car keys and left the office.

Chapter 56

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"Well, hello there, Ms. Donnovan. I didn't think I'd see you again."

With horror Emely stared at the small, rotund figure. Her worst nightmares had become reality. Ronald stood in front of her, out of breath due to his exertions of breaking through the door. He held the ax in one hand.

Kitty desperately wanted to escape from Emely's arms and was growling frantically.

"I suggest you restrain that animal or I'll turn it into a couple of steaks with a single blow."

Where's John? she wondered.

To her surprise, Ronald discarded the ax and took a wrinkled handkerchief out of his right front pocket to wipe his sweaty brow. Just as she thought of grabbing a chair and hitting him on the head, he pulled a revolver from his back pocket.

"No panic," he said calmly.

She stared at the black barrel aimed at her chest. The image of him pulling the trigger almost suffocated her.

"How did you find me?" she said, her voice trembling.

The answer didn't really matter; all she wanted was to postpone his decision. Fear of death pushed her mind into overdrive and she was able to think with incredible speed.

Ronald lifted his head and laughed. "My brother John is not the smartest thing on this planet. He may have always been more handsome than me, but I have always been more intelligent." He sat down on the chair, which was approximately six feet away from her.

"It seemed inconceivable that John would decide to live alone in this horrible house. He's not the type. I know him well."

You don't know him at all.

"At first I thought he was having a nervous breakdown, that he was going through a crisis because of what we did to you." He corrected himself. "Well, because of your funeral. You've got to admit that the coffin idea wasn't bad. But it's clear that the actual execution never happened." He laughed cynically, as if telling an old joke.

Emely felt like spitting in his face, he repulsed her so much.

"He'd resigned from his job and at the same time drank champagne and ate caviar. I thought there was something fishy, but couldn't find an explanation." The barrel of his gun kept moving to and fro while he talked. "Before, he used to call me at least once a week. John was very attached to me, you see." He paused for a moment.

"After he moved to this house, there was no sound from him. In spite of the astronomical phone bill I noticed on my first visit, he never called me. When I came here, he wasn't glad to see me at all. How, my dear Emely, could I not get suspicious?" He looked around the room contemptuously.

How dare he call me dear? This man is sick.

"And he was somehow distracted and nervous. I don't know how to describe the state he was in. And then the alarm. Why would anyone install an alarm at a house where there are no neighbors anywhere near?" Once again Ronald aimed the gun with its deadly charge.

"Last night I finally decided to make an unannounced visit. I wanted to do it earlier, but the problem is that I'm a very busy man. You understand, don't you, Emely, you're a busy businesswoman yourself." With his head up he waited in vain for her to nod, and then said, "In fact, I watched the house from a distance last night. As I was about to come nearer, I saw you walk out of the house first. I must admit that was the last thing I expected. My heart stopped for a few moments, but then I got really mad."

He rose from the chair and transferred his weight to one foot. "Allow me to ask you a rather indiscreet question. How come you're still alive?"

Emely inhaled, wanting to throw something, anything, in his face, but stopped herself. Any wrong move could be fatal for her. She was aware that she had to keep him talking for as long as possible, regardless of what they talked about.

"John is not a bad man. After you buried me, he came and dug me out and took care of me until I got well again."

"And probably used you as a sex object," he said.

"No, nothing like that happened." She was looking at the wall.

"Hang on, Ms. Donnovan. You've been shut in this moldy room for a few months and you're telling me John's not a bad person. I can't believe it. It's no business of mine, but tell me why John dug you up and kept you here."

She looked at the red bag and decided that the time for revealing the truth had not arrived yet. When necessary, I'll use the money as a weapon. But not yet. When there's no other way, I'll tell him about those millions.

"John loves me," she said calmly.

"Come on," Ronald said, laughing. "He's incapable of loving anyone or anything but alcohol and money."

She stared at him angrily, not knowing what else to say.

Ronald said, "Then it really was about time for me to appear on the scene. John had made a bundle of mistakes in his life before this. Luckily he's got me to get him out of trouble." He stood up firm and became serious. "Well, Ms. Donnovan, say your last prayer, because our ways will have to part. As I said earlier, I'm a businessman and I've got things to do." He laughed out loud. His eyes were wide open and his second chin took on the shape of a small cushion.

She could see his finger on the trigger beginning to move.

She said quickly, "What about John? He'll be back any minute."

"That's precisely why I have to act now."

"But he loves me."

"Oh, he'll soon forget you, don't worry." The gun rose level to her heart. "Goodbye, Emely."

She was panicking, staring into the barrel that seemed so very black to her. Her thoughts entered a black tunnel, the one she would travel through after dying. Don't books about life beyond death talk about the soul rising above the body and travelling along a black tunnel up to Heaven? At least that's what those who were clinically dead and then revived are supposed to have said. Or was it a white tunnel? Yes, of course, the black tunnel is for those who commit suicide. I'd go through the white tunnel.

She noticed the glimmer in his eyes and the mouth stretched into a smile. His tongue was licking his dry lips.

"I'd like to say just one more thing. I'm sure you'll be interested. There's eight million dollars in this room."

"What?"

"Yes, in that red bag on your right, there are eight million non-counterfeit bills."

His eyes stared at the sports bag and the barrel of the revolver lowered by a fraction. "Do you think I'm an idiot or something? If you think that you can fool me in such a ridiculous way, you underestimate me terribly."

"I'm telling you that bag is full of money."

"And why would all that money be in such an ugly bag?" He hesitated for a while. "OK, I'll have a look, it won't cost me anything."

He moved toward the bag while looking at Emely. First he stepped on the bag.

"It's full. I bet it's old newspapers. Or even sex aids?" He laughed again.

Carefully he squatted next to the bag and transferred the gun to his other hand. With his right hand he pulled the zipper. He tried a few times, but it kept getting stuck. He had to use his left hand as well, so he put the gun down next to the bag. His eyes were fixed on Emely all the time while his hands were opening the bag.

Finally he succeeded and glanced inside. The sight of all those banknotes made his jaw drop. "Damn it, this is a fortune." His eyes were still glued to the money, which had the effect of a magnet on him. He picked up a few notes to look at them more closely. "They're real. I don't believe it."

At that moment Emely kicked him in the groin so hard that he moaned loudly before collapsing onto his back. Emely quickly grabbed the chair and hit him on the head. Then she kicked the gun under the bed.

He was screaming in pain. "You're not getting away!"

At the last moment, she evaded him and ran out of the room. She ran as fast as she could, yet even before she reached the stairs leading to the ground floor, she felt a hand grabbing her right shoulder. She was pulled back and fell on the floor and banged her head against one of the steps. She must have lost consciousness for some time because suddenly he was standing over her, wheezing like an asthma patient. He hit her face brutally with his right hand, but she returned the blow as hard as she could.

It was clear he was not expecting her to defend herself and certainly not with such a fierce blow. He lifted himself a fraction and Emely used the opportunity to kick him in the groin again. He paused for a moment, then screamed, turned on his side, rolled into the fetal position, and emitted strange noises.

Emely picked herself up and managed to avoid his hands reaching for her. She ran up the stairs and closed the door behind her. She got to the front door only to find it locked.

She pulled the handle and rattled it, hoping the door would open. Meanwhile she could hear footsteps coming up from the basement. Her nerves were about to shatter.

Then she remembered Kitty. She had heard her barking when they were rolling around in front of the stairs. Now Emely looked down and was relieved to find the dog staring up at her nervously. She lifted Kitty, pulling her close, and ran up to the second floor and shut herself in the last room on the right. Only when she had locked the door behind her, she realized that this had not been the smartest move. Yet again, she was shut in a room with no exit. What do I do?

She searched hysterically around the room that was obviously a servant's bedroom. She ran to the window and opened it with a single push. Oh no, I wouldn't survive the jump.

She ran around the room and soon heard the opening and closing of doors. She climbed into a wall cabinet, still holding Kitty in her arms, and prayed quietly.

Chapter 57

_________________________

The door to the room opened. A painful silence followed, lasting at least ten seconds. The shadow visible through the small gaps in the cupboard showed that he was standing only a few feet away. Ronald bent over.

He's looking under the bed. She was holding Kitty's mouth with her right hand so that the dog would not give them away. Emely was trembling all over and drops of sweat gathered on her forehead. She was still praying.

The door of the first closet opened and then the second. Without being aware of it, as soon as the door opened she grabbed a wooden hanger and hit Ronald with it across the nose.

The resultant thud caused Ronald to shout, "Damn it, you broke my nose!"

He held his nose that was pointing leftward and was beginning to bleed, while he screamed. He grabbed her by the throat. She hit him again, this time on the forehead. Still not releasing his grip, he screamed even louder, like a stubborn child that refuses to let go of his favorite toy regardless of the consequences. Emely bit his hand as hard as she could and pushed him away. He dropped down like a log and kept squirming.

Not wanting to lose any time, she ran into the corridor and locked the door behind her, still holding Kitty. She threw the key far away and then ran to the ground floor.

Even before she had reached the last step, she heard the door smash, which meant he was out. She remembered the back door. Like a rabbit, she ran to the back of the house, but to her disappointment that door was locked. She looked at the window. Why do I want to get out through the door when I can use a window?

Ronald's heavy breathing and the sounds his shoes made on the floor betrayed his vicinity. She put Kitty on the floor and opened the nearest window easily. She grabbed Kitty again and dropped her out of the window. "Out, get out quickly," she told herself aloud.

Emely sat on the windowsill and lifted her legs to step outside, but it was too late. He grabbed her hair and pulled her close. Tears came to her eyes from the pain, but she didn't let out a sound. She fell down in front of him and he immediately closed the window. Then he kicked her in a kidney so that she began coughing and rolled into a ball.

"This is for my broken nose," he shouted, kicking her again.

She thought she would faint from the pain.

"And this, for my head."

He sat on her back and grabbed her neck with both hands. His fingers were pressing harder and harder and she was unable to breathe. Her lungs were demanding air, but however hard she tried she could not move, let alone wriggle out of his grip. She nearly resigned herself to her fate when she heard yelping somewhere in the distance. Kitty felt much more courageous outside and was barking as loud as she could to get help. And her barks gave Emely additional strength. With all the force she could summon, she pushed her elbow back, aiming it at his nose. Nothing else could have had such a strong effect on him—the pain was clearly so great that he had to put both his hands on his badly broken nose. She had never heard a louder scream and realized that she had managed to get him off her. Catching her breath, she crawled on all fours away from him.

Ronald, not completely recovered either, also followed on all fours.

She wondered where she could go. The bathroom was the nearest. She looked back and saw his bleeding face only a few feet away from her. He was reaching for her when she screamed, got up, and shut herself in the bathroom.

"There's no point, Emely," he said, wheezing noisily. "I'll get you sooner or later. There's no way you'll survive this. Just admit defeat."

Emely was leaning on the sink, breathing deeply and listening. What he had said made her angry but at the same time strengthened her resolve not to give up. She would fight to the end—if he wanted to take her life, she would extract a high price. Then she thought what to do. The lock threatened to give at any moment. As she could not think of anything else, she unscrewed the shower hose, even though her hands trembled so much that she couldn't control them.

The moment he entered, she attacked him with the hose. She jumped toward him and he opened his eyes wide.

With all her strength she managed to get him on the floor and wrapped the hose around his neck. She pulled hard on both ends so that his air supply was cut. Then she knelt on him and pulled even harder. His distorted face became red within seconds and his eyes bulged. She could see he was suffocating and nearly loosened her grip, but then remembered what he had done to her and pulled even harder instead.

"How do you feel now, Ronald? Do you like not being able to breathe? It's your turn to say goodbye to this life."

Chapter 58

_________________________

Robert was with someone he had wanted to meet for ages. Opposite him sat Anita Walters, a former Donnovan Corporation employee who didn't have such a positive opinion about Emely Donnovan. She had been working in accounts as part of the team responsible for salaries, when she was caught giving one employee a higher salary than she should have. It transpired that this was prearranged and Anita got a share of the difference. She had to resign immediately. The matter also became public.

Finally something juicy, Robert thought.

"You say you're unemployed?"

"Of course. Thanks to Donnovan Corporation I'm now without a job, with three kids."

"And why did you leave?" Robert was trying to make the question as polite as possible even though he knew what had happened.

"I didn't leave willingly, I was forced. I should have sued them."

"I see. What did your job involve?"

"Salaries. You know, numbers, numbers, and more numbers. You've no idea what salaries the managers are getting, have you?"

"None whatsoever." He pretended to be stupid so that she'd tell him things no one else had. He sat comfortably opposite the woman and wrote down everything she said.

"Every month when we were paying the salaries, I got angry. When I saw that I got only 5 percent of what my boss was paid, I lost my enthusiasm for work. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course, go on."

He was observing the woman, who didn't look that poverty stricken. She wore an elegant blue suit. Robert guessed her age to be just over forty.

"And that's not all," she said. "In addition to a huge salary, they're constantly going for expensive dinners, for which they pay with company credit cards. Do you know how much Emely Donnovan spent on average on her card?"

"No idea."

"Around twenty thousand dollars. Can you imagine? All at the expense of the company. I know she traveled a lot, but still, it's too much. Not to mention Alexandra Regan, a member of the financial team. She drives the latest model of Mercedes, owned by the company. Since she's been with the corporation she hasn't spent a cent on gas for it. These people eat and drive at the expense of the company, while their salary stays untouched in their bank account."

Robert was barely able to write down everything she told him. "So, you weren't happy with what they paid you?"

"Happy? Are you kidding me? No idiot could be happy with the pittance I was getting. I could barely make it to the end of the month. You know how much children cost."

"Yes, I know. I was told you were fired because you paid salaries that were higher than they should have been," he said directly.

"Everyone in that company is stealing. From top to bottom. And then they got at me, and I'm the least to blame. If only you knew all the things that go on there."

"Such as?" Miles was waiting like a dog for a chunk of meat, for her to finally tell him something tangible. So far, she hadn't said anything useful or shocking.

The woman leaned back in her chair and lit a cigarette. "You've got to understand that I have three kids to keep. My husband earns hardly anything."

She's smarter than I thought. Robert took a bunch of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and offered them to her.

"That won't be enough. You'll make a fortune with the information I'll give you, so I want my share."

Robert put his hand on his chin, staring at the woman. Is she worth the investment? Who knows who I'm dealing with here. "So what is your price?"

"Five thousand dollars."

"What! Are you out of your mind? There's no way I can give you that kind of money."

Anita Walters put out her cigarette and got up.

"Hang on." Miles didn't know what to do. This was supposed to be his last article about Emely. Unless he wrote something good, he'd have to say goodbye to her. And he didn't want that; he wasn't ready to leave Emely Donnovan.

"OK," he said, "I'll pay you five thousand, but I hope you're worth it."

The woman sat down again while Miles wrote a check for the amount she was demanding. He could only hope that his boss would reimburse it.

Anita lit another cigarette, stared at the check for a while, and then said, "You know everyone thinks Emely just disappeared. They think she may have been killed, but no one knows anything for certain."

Miles pricked up his ears. What is she trying to tell me?

"Go on, please."

"I think she was killed. Emely Donnovan was an evil woman and finally someone had had enough of her machinations."

Though he didn't like what she said about his heroine, Robert didn't interrupt, sensing that something important was coming. "What machinations do you mean?"

"Ms. Donnovan was not the wonderful person you have described. I've read everything you've said about her and it's all nonsense, about her being smart, prudent, honest, some kind of a superwoman."

These were insults Miles found difficult to swallow. He was about to raise his voice, but she overtook him. "Emely Donnovan had a horde of enemies. You don't know how often I've witnessed attacks on her, when all the people angry with her wanted to get her."

"What attacks? Tell me, who were these people?"

"You wrote that Emely was a manager who men and women in leading positions could look up to. I don't think that's true. I'll tell you why that company grew so fast. Don't think that it all just happens. Damn it, it's easy for those with heaps of money. And you know money is power." She put out her cigarette and pursed her lips.

Robert's mouth was completely dry, but he didn't dare order another drink since this might interrupt her flow.

"Donnovan Corporation is involved in investment funds. They're very successful and so there are quite a few people investing in them. This means a lot of money. The numbers I'm talking about surpass the dreams of any individual. Emely and her brokers invest this money into securities, gold, and other precious metals. But with time, Emely grew bored with this and found a new hobby." She stopped again.

"Please, go on."

"She started taking over companies that were in trouble. This means that she waited for a victim, like a spider does, and as soon as an opportunity arose, she bought nearly all its shares in the market, acquiring the majority share. You can follow what I'm saying, can't you?"

"Barely." Robert was able to write maybe every other word. He was trying to work out what this woman was telling him. "What do you mean, she started taking over companies?"

"It's simple. As soon as she heard rumors about liquidity problems of a particular company, she hired financial experts, detectives, and God knows who to find all sorts of information. Then she decided, on the basis of this information, whether she would go for the company or not. If she decided to do it, she began spreading false rumors among banks and other stockbroking companies. This meant that the price of the company's shares fell and banks refused to give it a loan. And then Emely would come on the scene. Within a few days she bought nearly all the shares on the market and became the majority holder. Simple, isn't it? But only if you've got a lot of money to begin with."

Robert forgot to close his mouth. What he had just heard was more than worth those lousy five thousand bucks. "How did you get this information?"

"I did work in accounts, didn't I? Everyone there knows everything. Nothing remains hidden. And then all those attacks by people who wanted to personally get at Emely. These were the people whom Emely had robbed of their pride and power. Before she came on the scene, they were managers and afterward only the owners of a few shares."

Damn it, why didn't I charge those batteries for the recorder last night? Miles thought while cursing himself and scribbling whatever he could manage.

"If you don't believe me, ask one of my former colleagues. If you offer them enough money, they'll tell you the same. Emely was nothing but a greedy, cruel woman who stopped at nothing to reach her goal. She trampled on and swallowed everything in her way. Her power grew on the destruction of others. That's the real truth about the famous Emely Donnovan."

Robert was speechless. My Emely—cruel and greedy? Impossible. What are these lies Anita Walters is spreading around? No one would commit suicide because of Emely. But what if it's true?

He imagined an article with this content and people fighting for the paper, and this excited him. He could see newsagents full of News Continental in the morning and after two hours, not a copy left. And all because of him. Suddenly he wanted everything Anita had told him to be true.

He said, "And you think someone murdered her because of all this?"

"I'm certain. Justice prevails in the end. Do you think that after having built her empire, Emely would simply disappear? She's not that dumb. She wasn't a woman who didn't know what she wanted. No, she was following the path she mapped out for herself. She didn't regret her actions. On the contrary, she wanted more and more."

"Yes, but it doesn't seem like a good enough reason for someone to kill her."

"Think logically. She can't have disappeared just like that. She wasn't the type to suddenly want a different life and leave her empire. There are only two possibilities. Kidnapping and extortion, or kidnapping for revenge. So far no one has asked for anything and there's no trace of her whereabouts. So, this can only mean that she was murdered. The woman is lying in some ditch and after three months there can't be much left of her. They'll probably never find her."

Robert was astonished. A volcano was brewing inside him. He kept seeing readers fighting for his article and his satisfied boss, praising him in front of everyone. Maybe I'll even become the new editor in chief.

"I cannot believe what you've told me. I just can't."

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Miles, what I've told you is the truth."

He asked her a few more questions, wanting another confirmation of what he had heard, wanting her to convince him, but then he could wait no longer. He got up and said goodbye.

Miles drove straight to work in his old car and immediately went to see his boss.

*

"If it's all true, it's gonna be big," the editor said.

"That's what the woman said."

"But you've got to get someone else to confirm it. You know we can't publish it otherwise. Do it ASAP."

And Robert did. The same afternoon, he spoke to one of the accountants still working for Donnovan and offered her a thousand dollars. The woman refused to cooperate at first, but when she saw the money she wavered.

"I know you feel like a traitor," Robert said. "I'm not expecting new information from you, I just want you to confirm what I already know. Someone will do it sooner or later. The truth never remains hidden."

The woman kept looking down at the table.

He said, "Journalists are still trying to find a motive for Emely's murder, and I found out that she had quite a few enemies." Miles looked at his informant, wanting to check whether it was worth continuing. On the other hand, if he didn't carry it through to the end, the woman could cause a panic in her department and then no one would want to talk to him. So he went on: "We don't really know if it is a murder, it's just a guess."

The woman nodded, still not saying a word.

"It is well-known that Donnovan Corporation was involved in takeovers of other companies. It was a way in which Emely was trying to salvage companies that would otherwise almost certainly go bankrupt. Am I right?"

The woman nodded.

Wonderful, thought Robert. He said, "We also know that quite a few owners of these companies, who did not want her to become in charge of them, attacked Emely. Is that true?"

She looked around as if wanting to leave. Miles noticed her reaction and put five hundred dollars in her hand and kept another five hundred in his hand. The woman looked at the money for a while and then nodded again.

"And what was Emely's reaction in these situations?"

"She called security," the woman said.

"I see."

Robert was satisfied. So it is all true. He could still not believe it. All that was left now was to meet with Anita again and ask her which companies were involved. This would make his story even more plausible.

"Did it happen often?"

"At least three times during the last year."

He was getting impatient. He wanted to go home and begin writing at that very moment, already seeing in his mind the first lines with which he would begin this horrific story. His excitement was making him breathless and his arms tingled.

He gave the woman the other five hundred and asked her a few unimportant questions, and then he left.

On the way home he was already composing the story in his mind. If he had had his laptop with him, he would stop the car and start writing there and then. This could be a solution for Zoya. Finally I'll be able to get a loan and help her.

Chapter 59

_________________________

For a while, Ronald was emitting high-pitched noises and clearly trying to remove the hose that was throttling him, but then he suddenly lifted himself so that she lost control over him. He backed away from her and freed himself from the hose. He was still coughing badly, holding on to his throat. This gave her the courage to take a chair and attack him with it. But he avoided it at the last second and the chair smashed on the floor.

Ronald looked at the chair and then grabbed Emely's shoulders and hurled her against the wall. The impact was so severe that she nearly lost consciousness. She collapsed on the floor.

Taking her by her hair, he began pulling her behind him. She thought he would pull all her hair out so she screamed and grabbed his hands in order to relieve the pain. Screaming didn't help as he pulled her to the kitchen like a sack of cement. He opened a drawer. She was convinced he was going to get a knife and slit her throat. She shouted again and resisted with all her might.

To her surprise he got a long rope and first tied her hands behind her back and then her legs.

Emely lay on her side helplessly while he was standing next to her, leaning on a cupboard, his eyes constantly on her.

"So, my dear Emely. As you've made me work so hard, I've decided to improve on my original plan." The top half of his body was soaking with sweat. "I'll bury you in the original spot."

She didn't care and lay there perfectly still, resigned to her fate. Earlier she had fought with all her might, but now it was too late. It was perfectly clear that her end was near and she was ready to accept it.

"But first I'll go and get that eight million."

*

In about three minutes he was back, carrying the red bag. Again he took her by the hair and pulled her like a dog. This time she didn't scream, but merely clenched her teeth in order to bear the pain. Her eyes were watering, yet she managed to endure it without making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her moan and being tied made it impossible for her to resist.

He began pulling her out of the house and toward a small wooden hut for storing gardening and other equipment.

"As a matter of fact, I've just changed my mind. I've got a new surprise in store for you."

What is he up to? Emely wondered. She tried to protect herself from the stones scratching her bare skin. She was kicking, but couldn't get him to loosen his grip and he didn't stop until they reached the door of the shed, when he stepped back and grabbed her by the neck. He untied first her hands and then her legs.

"What ... will you do?" Before she managed to ask anything else, she was in the shed.

"Well, now I'll finish you off once and for all. There will be nothing left but a pile of ashes." He slammed the door and bolted it from outside.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

She looked around the small space filled with old junk. She took the nearest shovel and tried to smash her way out. As hard as she tried, the door was too solid to budge. In her panic, she kept hitting it until the scooped metal blade of the shovel loosened and fell off. Emely dropped to her knees in despair, no longer crying, just staring at the floor, waiting for the inevitable.

When in a few moments she heard the sound of metal canisters banging against each other, she became alert again. After a few more moments she heard the sloshing of liquid around the shed. The terrifying smell of gas seeped inside and she could hear Kitty ferociously barking.

"Let's see who helps you this time, Ms. Donnovan. I have to admit you're very feisty. In fact, it's rather a shame to waste you like this. Get away, damn fleabag."

Emely could only hope that Kitty would be alright. This man is crazy, she thought, but said, loud enough for him to hear through the door, "This means that you're actually afraid of me."

"Afraid? ... What do you mean?"

"You said you'd improve on the original plan and bury me again." She bristled at the thought of this really happening.

"Yes, I did say that. But you must admit this new plan isn't bad either." He laughed.

Emely dropped the wooden handle. "No, I'm sure you're afraid of me. I've hurt you a few times already." She tried to make her voice sound as confident as possible.

"What, me afraid of you ... how dare you!"

The sound of a match being lit announced what Emely feared most. Then she heard the deep, suffocating sound of fire that instantly spread around the perimeter of the hut and began to lick the thin wooden walls. Now Emely was truly scared.

Even as a child, she was afraid of fire. When she was seven, she had stuck her hand into a fire one day when the nuns were cooking a picnic lunch. By the time she could feel the searing pain, it was too late.

The thick smoke was already making its way through the gaps, irritating the inside of Emely's nose. In despair she waved her arms around and said in a forcibly calm voice, "Yes, you're afraid of me."

The temperature was rising. Emely began hysterically turning over the cardboard boxes stacked neatly one on top of the other. She knew that once inside, the fire would spread within seconds. As hard as she tried, she couldn't come up with an idea of how to save herself from this inferno. What can I do?

The fire was swallowing everything in its way, ready to turn into ashes the shed and Emely in it. The more it consumed, the larger it became. Emely was starting to realize there really was no help this time. The boxes, filled with all sorts of old things, were on fire now, releasing thick smoke. Emely tried to hide in the only empty corner, her hand on her mouth. The smoke prevented her from seeing and she knew that it was only a question of a few seconds before she died in a horrific torture. For a moment she sensed a white light and thought this was it, salvation, she was dead.

Instinctively she jumped away when the fire came closer. The second she wanted to scream again, the light appeared once more. It's daylight. Only a few feet away the wooden door was wide open. Why has he opened it? Because of the smoke she could barely make anything out. With a single leap she jumped over the burning boxes and the next moment she was outside the reach of the fire. She could hear crackling behind her, as if the fire were angry at her for breaking loose of its grasp.

A few yards away, exhausted, she lay on the cool, damp grass that caressed her skin, acting like a wet blanket. She was inhaling the fresh air deeply, coughing from time to time.

Only a few feet away, Ronald stood there. Then he walked over and took her arm. She did not resist, knowing that the door had not opened on its own. She was defeated, exhausted from her struggle for life.

"I'm not afraid of anyone," he said with pride in his voice. "Least of all, you, Emely."

He pulled her to her feet. She was still catching her breath, grateful that she could breathe at all.

Chapter 60

_________________________

"If you like the original plan so much, let's do it. I'll take you there and it'll all be over very quickly."

Sweating profusely, Ronald wiped his forehead. It would be hard for him to describe the feeling of excitement he had experienced a few minutes ago while he watched the burning shed. Until then he had only witnessed scenes like that in movies and he had always liked them. But this was real. A live woman, made of flesh and blood, surrounded by a horrific fire, awaiting the cruelest and the most terrifying death. And he, who was responsible for it, standing a few feet away, shaking with excitement. He could have helped her, could have saved her, but instead he stood there enjoying the thought that at any moment now she would start screaming and writhing in pain, and then .... All he could feel was miraculous energy surging through his body, wonderful feelings that had occurred only once before: when he and John buried her alive.

With his mouth open he had observed the burning mass and nearly forgot to breathe from the pleasure he was feeling. She was dying in gruesome pain and it aroused him. But why was she not screaming? He expected to hear her last horrifying screams. She should be screaming for his ecstasy to be complete. You damn bitch, scream, scream! he kept repeating. He stood there with his legs wide apart, feeling like a god deciding the punishment for this greedy female being. The thought of having done anything wrong didn't enter his head and he didn't regret his actions. But what she had done was a dreadful sin. In times past, people were punished with death for much less. Scream, scream! He so much wanted to hear at least one last scream. Please, please. That was all he wanted. And then it can all go to hell.

But instead of a scream, he had heard: "This means that you're afraid of me."

Afraid ... me, afraid? What is she getting at, the stupid bitch? I'm not afraid of anyone. His arousal was diminishing. What she said got on his nerves. "Scream, scream and die!" he said, his hands clenched.

She had said again: "Yes, you're afraid of me."

How dare she! He was livid and wanted to walk into that burning shed and pull her out. If he had her in his hands at that moment, he would have strangled her. "Damn bitch!"

He took a few steps forward, but a wave of heat hitting his forehead warned him that his presence was unfeasible. He thought, I'll open the door and let her save herself if she can. His arousal was growing again. He was the one deciding about her death and it had the same effect on him as watching a gladiator fight in ancient Rome. If she's smart and strong enough, she'll live. If not, she'll roast in that fire and die in torture. These thoughts again made him forget to breathe.

After a few seconds she did come out and he was slightly disappointed, but at the same time looked forward to the new games he would come up in which she would die sooner or later.

As Emely lay on that grass, damp from the dew, he was comparing his experiences and arousal of a few months ago when John and he put Emely in that coffin and she resisted them with all her strength before they managed to lower her into that hole. He had to admit to himself that he had been more aroused then than today. Maybe it's because it's no longer the first time. Who knows? But today's experience was somewhat deeper. This was the second time, but he was not embarrassed about what he was experiencing and unashamed of his thoughts. In fact, he was proud and satisfied. This is how the highest and mightiest feel. Why would I be ashamed of my actions? Death is as natural as birth. If people kill animals, why not other people?

That first time he had been totally aroused, but he had also experienced moments of terror over what he had done. If John had not been such a calm and obedient assistant, Ronald would have called the whole thing off. He was scared. After all, it was something he had never done before. But at the same time he was unable to resist. Her struggling and screaming while she was tied to the tree and while they were pushing her into the coffin had brought him a sense of ecstasy he had never before experienced. He could not stop, even if he had wanted to. Deep inside he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. It was unforgettable and unique. No, no. I won't be ashamed of something perfectly normal. He was sure that others would also feel like that if only they had a chance to kill someone. But of course, it's not killing without a reason, God forbid. She was stealing and taking money that belonged to others. She didn't care about the havoc she was causing. She didn't care that people were committing suicide because she took everything they had. The greedy bitch.

While thinking about all this, Ronald was squeezing her throat tighter and tighter. He wanted to squeeze so hard that she would scream and try and resist him. If he had the strength, he would have broken her neck.

He was looking down at her, enjoying her suffering, and thought how lucky he was that he didn't leave her in the fire. He turned to the shed. The fire seemed to be breathing like a crazed monster, emitting crackling noises. It danced around, asserting its power. The bright yellows and reds mingled and sparks flew all over. The strong light hurt his eyes and he raised his dirty hand to protect them. He likened it to the delaying of an orgasm, thinking that if you reached the climax immediately, the pleasure was soon over. Only those who could delay it, could keep the ecstasy going. He was glad to have another chance.

He imagined her screaming and banging in the grave while he threw soil onto the coffin and again he felt a surge of energy and he trembled with pleasure.

Chapter 61

_________________________

Emely could feel the pain in her head diminishing and her breathing was getting easier as well. She was still coughing and suffocating, but at the same time she realized that she was still alive. No, I'm not giving up. As soon as there's an opportunity, I'll strike. I won't let him kill me. Not after all I've been through. Her immense hatred toward him surged. She could have shot him or hit him with an ax without any hesitation. This time I'll stun him and keep hitting him until my strength is gone and I'm sure that his evil heart has stopped forever.

As if sensing her intentions, he grabbed her by the hair and lifted her up. Tears came into her eyes, angry tears, and she made a fist, but just as she was about to hit him he twisted her arm behind her back so that she screamed in pain.

"No silly business!" he warned her. "We'll go to the car, where I'll tie you. Don't try to resist because I'll break your neck if you do."

She knew he meant it. He was much stronger than her and mad at her for having beaten him a few times. She nodded and kept looking down, but still watching him with a corner of her eye. He stank of sweat and was wheezing as he led her to the car.

Suddenly the sound of another car could be heard in the distance. Emely sobered up immediately.

Ronald was holding her by the hair with one hand and pushing her into his car with the other, but now Emely was resisting and screaming. He slapped her head several times, but still didn't manage to get her in.

A blue SUV screeched to a halt in front of them. Emely began crying when she saw who it was.

"Let her go, Ronald," John hissed through his teeth as soon as he got out of the car.

Ronald let go of Emely's hair. "John, how nice of you to come." He looked at the bag and then at John, extending his mouth in a forced smile. "I was going to protect the money. You know you're not very good with it." He swiftly directed the gun at his brother.

"No!" Emely shouted.

"I'm not gonna kill him, stop shouting, you bitch."

John's hands were squeezed into fists and his body as tense as a bow-string.

"Get in!" Ronald ordered him. "In the front. I see you've got the restraints in your pocket."

He told John to fasten his left hand to the steering wheel. Then he opened the back door and forced Emely to go and sit in the front, next to John. He himself went in the back.

"Drive!"

Emely looked at John. She felt like stroking his hair, but didn't dare to.

"It's time to fix the damage. We're going to the old place. John, get the engine going and drive. You know where we buried her the first time."

Chapter 62

_________________________

They drove slowly through the tall trees, along dirt roads, not talking. Emely kept crying and looking at John. She was comforted by the fact that he was with her, but at the same time it would be difficult for him to help her since his left hand was fastened to the steering wheel.

John drove, looking ahead. He glanced at Emely, put his hand briefly on her leg, nodding to her encouragingly.

"No touching," Ronald said sharply.

Emely was trembling with fear. The thought of seeing that place again terrified her. She kept looking at John, relying on his help. He drove with his eyes on the road. At that moment she wanted so much to hug him, whatever happened afterward. Ronald would kill them both anyway. At least this way they would leave this world hand in hand and stay together forever. All their earthly troubles would be over and they would go to a place where they would be safe from any threats, where love ruled, and where there was no hatred.

Soon, fear drove these calming thoughts away. She looked around. Dawn was breaking. They were in a dense pine forest, where hardly any light got through. Only a few broad-leaved trees had survived with the pines.

In our world, too, bad people rule. Perhaps it's better if I'm gone. I'll be alright.

The tension in her was growing. When they had first brought her there, her eyes were covered and she hadn't seen anything but the final destination.

She imagined the coffin again, made from ordinary planks of wood and she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. And then the shovels with which they dug the hole. She could barely breathe again as she looked out the window, observing the road leading to her grave.

They started climbing. She remembered that back then they had also spent some time driving uphill. She had the shivers. The first time now seemed so close, as if it had happened a week ago. Although she had not seen anything, she could remember that hill very well. If her memory was not deceiving her, they would spend at least ten minutes climbing and then they would descend again.

Yes, she was right. Soon the sky appeared ahead—earlier they couldn't see it. The treetops were now getting lower and lower. It was clear that the dirt road led across a small hill and then continued into the woods. Here she was surprised to see that broad-leaved trees prevailed, as if this was the only place where they managed to keep their territory. She looked at John again, but he didn't return the look, just stared ahead and drove.

The road was very rough. As they drove uphill John at one moment turned the wheel so awkwardly that he nearly drove into the ditch on the left.

"No silly business," Ronald said. "If we fall into a ditch, I'll shoot the both of you."

"It's not only revenge," Emely said.

"What?"

John also gave her a surprised look.

Emily repeated, "I think it's not just an old grudge."

"What are you talking about?" Ronald said.

"I think it's more a desire to kill."

"Of course, because you deserve it. You took something of ours, something that wasn't yours. Simple."

Emely continued speaking calmly. "No, it's not just that. It occurred to me a while ago. I'm almost certain that you actually enjoy killing."

"And what led you to this conclusion?"

"Every time you attacked me, I noticed a little smile on your face. It wasn't just anger, it was something else."

"Stop talking such nonsense."

"You're a murderer. You kill because you enjoy it. You're sick!"

"I don't have to listen to this. What are you talking about?"

"Your mouth is always slightly open when you're about to kill. Your eyes get a twinkle in them and your face looks somehow neutral."

Ronald said, "If you don't shut up this minute, I'll break your neck."

Emely realized that making him angry was not the best idea, and stopped talking. She looked out of the car window. At least she would be able to tell the world where they had buried her if she happened to save herself. And so she stared at the surroundings, trying to remember every detail. They were midway up the slope, around six hundred feet high, and she was able to see clearly the forest far around. Everything was dark green. She had never before seen such a vast area of woodland. As if they were surrounded by a huge dark-green sea. Who could just happen to wander into it?

She knew the answer was no one, and they were alone in that wilderness. No loggers, nobody. Just them and the trees.

Once more the vehicle leaned dangerously sideways. Suddenly a steep drop appeared on their left and Ronald said, "I told you to drive carefully!"

"Alright," John said curtly.

Emely's and John's eyes met. It was only a fraction of a moment, but it made her feel better when she looked back at the road. He touched her hand briefly and they looked at each other once more. His sad face made Emely cry, she wanted to hug him so much. She asked God to help her one last time.

Then she thought that John was trying to tell her something. Although he was looking ahead, she had a feeling that he would look at her soon again and tell her something. A second ago his eyes had looked somewhat sharper. Something in them drew her attention. She moved her head slightly to the left, not too much, and pretended to look straight ahead. But in fact she was waiting for John's next look.

And it came. After only a few seconds, his eyes met hers and this time his face was even more serious. He looked first at her, then at the window on the right, and then at her again, twisting his eyes in a strange way, and Emely knew he was up to something. Again, their eyes turned to the road.

What is he trying to tell me? It was definitely something, but she didn't understand what.

The vehicle leaned to one side again. Emely looked at John and as their eyes met and she saw that his were glistening, Emely knew. Oh my God, he's not thinking that? She had a feeling he was trying to tell her to get out at a particular moment. How can I get out?

She moved her head left and right slightly in the hope of letting him know that she couldn't do it. But he returned a serious look in which she saw that there was no other option. But what will he do? He's fastened to the steering wheel. Why does he want me to get out? She was confused, not knowing exactly what he wanted from her. They were coming near the top of the small hill and there was something she did not comprehend. So she waited for John's next look, afraid Ronald would notice something.

John didn't glance at her, but she could sense that he was going to do something. He kept searching with his eyes and she could see that he was ready for something. Once more he embraced her with his eyes, lovingly this time, blinking gently as if to give her hope.

What is he up to? Please, John, tell me what you're going to do.

At that moment they reached the summit and what followed happened quickly. Emely saw the road ahead, which turned sharply to the right in about twenty yards. Nothing but the slate-gray sky could be seen on the other side of the bend, which meant the terrain dropped down. John's last look followed, the one she would remember forever. It lasted only a few hundredths of a second, but she could clearly see it was a goodbye. She could see in it immense pain and love. If she could stop time at that moment, she would have. Then she saw John's fist hitting Ronald on the nose. John leaned to his right and opened her door and before she realized what was happening, he had pushed her out so that she fell on the stony road. A horrific scene followed as she watched the vehicle speeding toward the precipice.

"John, please, don't!" she screamed so loud that her voice carried at least two miles. She knew what he was going to do. "John, damn it, no." There must be another solution. She saw Ronald looking back at her. She could see those terrible eyes of his, full of contempt and hatred. For a moment she thought she could also see the gun, but then he spotted the abyss and she could clearly hear his last scream, the one that later often woke her from her sleep. The scream that signified Ronald's demise and her redemption.

The vehicle was speeding along as if wanting to fly. Tears of despair ran down Emely's face, but there was no way in which she could prevent what was to follow.

"John, please, don't do this," was all she was able to say as the SUV flew into the air.

Now time did stop. A horrendous pain gripped her heart as the car engine roared in midair.

Emely covered her eyes, screaming, "Damn it, John, why did you do it? Why? You shouldn't have. Why ... why?"

All she could see was his last look into her eyes when he was trying to tell her. That look spoke volumes she understood well. She knew how much he loved her and how sorry he was for all the suffering she had been through.

"No, John, no!"

The vehicle crashed down the rocks and she could hear every sound clearly. She put her hands over her ears but couldn't shut out the noise.

"John, why did you do it?" She was choking with tears and the immense pain inside. "John, no. Why did you leave me?" Her fists were banging on the ground. She wished she could die with him. "John, John, my John!" She covered her face.

Then everything went quiet, only birdsong and the breeze remaining.

*

She had no idea how long she had been sitting there crying, maybe half an hour or an hour, when she finally got up and walked back. The next few hours she could not remember, as if they had never existed. She walked and walked, but she was not really alive inside. Later she was surprised that she had not fainted. Clearly her survival instinct led her on, all the way to the house in which she had spent so many horrible and wonderful moments.

It was lucky she had spent the journey looking out of the car; otherwise she would have been lost.

When she approached the house, Emely was terribly pleased to see Kitty barking a greeting. She played with the dog for a while, then she sat in John's car and drove northward, to her previous life. She had wanted this for so very long, but now that she could return, she wasn't sure that she wanted her old life back. So much had changed. Nothing would ever be the same.

Chapter 63

_________________________

Alexandra burst into Blake's office.

"Damn it, Alexandra, I told you that you can't come in here without being invited."

It was half past seven in the morning. He had slept badly and his head was throbbing. He was drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper.

Alexandra was holding the morning edition of News Continental and threw it on his desk. "I thought you might not know yet. Look at the front page and you'll know why I'm here."

Blake saw a headline in huge letters:

EMELY DONNOVAN DEVOURER OF HELPLESS COMPANIES

He was astonished. He went on to read a short summary on the front page. The full article appeared on page two.

"This journalist of yours, Robert Miles, has betrayed us," Alexandra said. "I knew from the very beginning that we couldn't trust him."

"What do you mean, this journalist of mine? You were happy with him too. How did he find out all these things?"

"Journalists do. They're driven by a desire for success and they sniff around better than the police. You know what this means?"

Blake gave her a surprised look. "What?"

"A big shitty pile of trouble."

The phone rang. "A Daily Press journalist wants a meeting with someone," Maria said.

"Tell him that no one is available today," Blake replied, and put the phone down.

"Clearly it has already started. Not only has Miles set the press onto us, it'll probably also attract the inspection services. And the value of our shares will fall again."

Another phone call. "A journalist from the M3 television station wishes to talk to you, Blake."

"Damn it, Maria, tell everyone who calls today that I'm not here. Make something up. Just don't talk to me about that journalistic vermin."

"What do you plan to do now?" Alexandra asked.

Blake gave her a sharp look. "First, I'll get rid of you. Get out of my office now!"

Alexandra left without a word, but Blake could see she was glowing inside. He knew how happy she was that he had problems. Damn you.

He lifted the receiver. "Call a meeting of the management board."

"For when?"

"In an hour."

"But you're meeting the CEO of Miners & Co. in an hour, and then at ten thirty—"

"Cancel all my meetings."

"But in an hour? ... It's impossible."

"Do as you're told."

*

At the meeting, Blake said, "I'm sure you all know why I've called this meeting. If not, look at the front page of News Continental." He pointed at the newspapers lying in the middle of the conference table. As he expected, only a few helped themselves, while the others waited for him to go on.

Someone said, "I don't think there's any cause for panic yet. It's just rumors that will soon die away."

"I'm not sure that's right," Alexandra said. "Things are much more serious than we imagine."

Blake said, "I suggest we threaten News Continental with a lawsuit. We'll also start an aggressive advertising campaign. We've got to emphasize the quality and results of our services. We'll tell the public how many people we employ every year, all the time focusing on the benefits Donnovan Corporation provides for society."

Everyone except Alexandra nodded.

"There's one more thing," he added. "Above all, we must ..."

The door opened. Everyone looked at Maria, who stood there crying, clearly badly shaken.

Blake asked, "What's happened?"

Maria stared for a few moments, wiping the tears off her face with her fingers. "The police called." She paused, and then went on. "They've found Emely. My God, they've found Emely."

Chapter 64

_________________________

"We've arrived, Ms. Donnovan," the driver said.

A black limousine, over thirty feet long, stopped near the sidewalk. The doors were bulletproof, as was the dark-blue glass. A complicated security system guided by the latest computer system built into the vehicle ensured further safety. Any world leader could be riding in such a car.

Emely, sitting on the luxurious white leather seat, put down a cup of tea and thought about the last seven difficult months during which she had spent all her strength on fighting the press. It was lucky that she had come back just as Robert Miles began publishing his potentially damaging articles. Other journalists followed him in an attack on her.

Every television station in the country broadcast her arrival home.

"What happened? Who kidnapped you? Where have you been all this time?" the reporters shouted as she had stepped out of the police car.

Something strange was happening. Finally, she was free, in her own house, but she couldn't go out—the media were watching all the exits.

After a few days, when she had recovered, she called a press conference and explained what had happened. Of course she did not mention the love story between John and her.

The journalists immediately began asking her questions about the takeovers. For a few hours she had to answer their questions, satisfying most of their hunger. But new attacks occurred every day, without mercy, and she had to keep fighting for months. She spent millions of dollars on advertising campaigns. After a long time, finally the furor died down.

When she had been incarcerated in the room, she wanted so much to go home, to be saved, but now that she was home, she was unhappy. Often she wanted to escape somewhere. Before all this, she had gladly gone to work every morning, but now something was missing. Everything she did was done without enthusiasm. It seemed pointless. All that gathering of money, heaps of money. What use will it be to me? she wondered.

She lifted the small baby lying in a travel cot next to her and then immediately patted Kitty on the head. "I do still love you," she told the dog.

The man sitting next to the driver got out and opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she said as she elegantly slipped out of the car. She was wearing a dark-green woolen suit. Her hair was up so that a Cartier necklace was in full view. Diamonds and emeralds sparkled in every direction.

The driver got out of the car as well. Both men were in black suits and Emely knew that under their jackets they both carried guns and small radio transmitters with which they could call their office at any moment. If one of them were to press a small button, in a few minutes at least thirty fully armed men would come to their rescue. If necessary, the police would swoop in with helicopters. Emely didn't want to take another risk; life had taught her to be careful. She never felt completely safe again, always looking for danger, even when asleep.

"Stay by the car," she ordered the men.

They nodded, closely watching the surroundings while she walked away.

She walked along the forest path. After a long time, she gathered the courage to walk up to the house where she had been held a prisoner. She tried to look at the vegetation in the garden and breathe deeply in order to lessen the pain. Then she spent some time staring at the front of the large building. Gently she rocked the baby and whispered something in his ear. She could only hope that she would be able to accomplish the task she had set herself.

Chapter 65

_________________________

After the article in which Robert Miles wrote that Emely Donnovan had devoured helpless companies was read by a large number of readers, things began to move with incredible speed. His boss doubled his salary and offered him a column, which Robert has continued to write to this day. With the help of a loan he managed to obtain, he finally paid for Zoya's back operation. But things did not go smoothly. In spite of surgery, her condition did not improve and she was still unable to walk. She stayed at a rehabilitation center in Switzerland for another two months, her condition remaining unchanged during this time. Everyone had given up, including the doctors, but Zoya still kept trying and was as positive as ever.

"It'll be alright, Daddy," she kept telling him.

And there really did appear another spark of hope. Initially, all she could feel was the little toe on her foot, but with time and a great deal of effort she was able to start walking again. The recovery process lasted over six months, when she was able to walk unaided for ten yards. When Robert saw her, he cried with happiness.

Only then was he able to open up his heart again and become the happy guy he had been before the accident. He met Jess, a nice girl with dark hair, and after just over a year they got married. Robert still writes columns for the same newspaper.

Chapter 66

_________________________

Emely paused and looked around. Without being aware of it, she checked if everything was alright. As if this were a jungle, she made sure that there was no danger. She was always prepared for the worst scenario, never trusting anyone. The dog also stopped and looked at her.

After circling the whole place, she finally stopped in front of her security guards to make sure that they were awake and doing their job. She was paying them a triple salary and demanded full commitment from them.

Slowly, she walked away again, rocking the baby. It took her a long time before she decided to come here. She inhaled the warm air, imbued with the scent of leaves from the many trees that adorned the house. Suddenly she saw herself banging on the walls of that coffin, hoping that the wood would yield. She felt breathless and had to stop and put her left hand on her mouth.

Emely soon recovered. She had learned to drive away these horrible thoughts, the result of her ordeal. Let them go, she always told herself, and never come back. She could only hope that one day she would find true peace again and her visions would stay away.

She looked to the right and saw the bodyguards running toward her. Quickly she lifted her hand to say that this was not necessary, and the two men stopped immediately. With a gesture she indicated that she was alright and that they should return to the car.

The closer to the front door she got, the tenser she became. She felt strangely hot. She thought about her life. Ever since she was free, she had been alone, unable to get close to anyone. She and Philip had broken up. He had found another woman and Emily was not upset about this at all. Before, she had thought that she loved him, but then realized it was not true love. There was no shortage of men trying to seduce her. But she never felt anything for any of them. As if she was empty, incapable of love.

She walked slowly, looking slightly to the right, where she noticed some flowering bushes. She swallowed hard, remembering all the nice moments she had spent with him. She walked on, looking at the sky. It was bright blue and cloudless, as if nature had prepared itself for her visit. Finally, she was only a few yards from the front door.

She transferred her hand to her heart, the pain too deep to bear, and the first tears appeared in her eyes.

Calmly she looked ahead, crying quietly. She remembered his last look, his sensual eyes embracing her lovingly, reflecting immense pain. "Oh, John," she said quietly. She cried and cried and let her emotions overcome her.

The baby in her arms touched one of droplets rolling down her cheeks.

"You know, Bobby, this is the house of my friend," she told her son.

Emely sniveled and then said, "He was ... he was ..."

She swallowed.

"... your father."

The tears ran with such force that she could barely see.

"... and he really was ... he was ... a rascal ..."

She could no longer contain herself. She kissed her son on the cheeks and said, "But even though he was a rascal ..."

She wiped her nose. "... I ... I loved him very much."

She nodded a few times and went on in a calmer voice. "Yes, John, I loved you." She spent some time looking at the sky.

"And I still love you."

Then she recalled her conversation with the police officer who had told her that John's body had never been found. As if it had been swallowed by the ground. For a long time afterward she had hoped that John would call and tell her he had survived the accident, but he never did. She was still wondering whether he was alive or not.

She turned away and saw one of the bodyguards approaching, carrying a box of tissues. She nodded to say he could come near and that she would be ready to go soon.

For a few more seconds Emely stared at the front of the house, then lifted her head and handed the baby to the bodyguard. She took a tissue with gratitude, and then again cuddled the baby into her arms and walked along the path toward the limousine, with her head bowed.

Chapter 67

_________________________

The man was looking through the window of the house and as he saw her slowly walking toward the door, he put his hand on his heart. The pain was so strong that he was barely able to breathe. He was squeezing his fist hard and grinding his teeth to stop them from chattering as the trembling overtook him.

Then he hid behind the curtain. He could no longer stand looking at her. His hand went to his face and when it touched his chin, he shook his head firmly.

He gathered up the courage to open the curtain and looked at her again, admiring her beauty. Head down, he thought about his life. He moaned quietly. The pain was still there. Sometimes just a small movement was enough to bring it on. But these pains were nothing in comparison with the ache in his heart. He had been trying so hard to erase the part of his life that had hurt him so much.

When he saw her leaving he lifted his hand, wanting to open the window and call after her. But as he touched the handle, the familiar pain made stomach acid rise to his throat. The heartburn was so strong that he closed his eyes, again gritting his teeth and squeezing both fists.

He once more touched his chin and shook his head. Both hands dropped to his side. He took a step back and walked away from the window. Big tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he said through gritted teeth, "I can't do it." He put his hand on his heart. "Not yet."

* * * * *

About the Author

Ian Fox was born in Slovenia (EU), and has also lived in the U.S.A., France, and Germany. He is fluent in English, French, and German. Because of his extensive international experience, his books are set in the U.S.A. and Europe. Ian's books have enjoyed great success in Europe. He has published three crime/mystery novels that have sold very well and been ranked among the top 100 most borrowed library books in Slovenia. He is currently working on two new novels. Enthusiastic readers write to him saying they can't put his books down and go on to read them in a few days. Individual libraries have ranked his works among the top ten, sometimes even the top five most-borrowed books.

Connect with me online:

Website: http://ianfox.si/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ianfoxwriter

Twitter: @IanFox2

My blog: http://howtopromoteebook.blogspot.com/

About Other Books:

Promise Me Eternity

Dr. Simon Patterson is a successful and well-respected neurosurgeon at Central Hospital in the town of Seattle. Married, though without children, he keeps himself so busy that one day is not much different than another. Until, that is, he saves the life of the powerful mobster, Carlo Vucci.

At a dinner in honor of Dr. Patterson, Carlo Vucci introduces him to his alluring wife, Christine. Simon is entranced by her beauty.

Three weeks later, Christine shows up at the hospital complaining of terrible headaches. Dr. Patterson offers to help her, but Christine did not come to see him just because of her headaches. A series of shocking events follow that turn Dr. Patterson's life into a nightmare. Among other things, he finds himself in court being accused of murder in the first degree. ...

Forget the Past

Reporter Anya Horvat, who works at Clarice, a weekly women's magazine, has relationship problems with men. She is thirty-five years old, yet has never had a single relationship that lasted more than two months. This reality prompts her to consult the well-known and successful psychiatrist Patricia Bellows, who is later found horribly murdered. Anya has never dealt with a murder investigation before, but when her boss literally forces her to take the assignment, she begins to uncover the murdered psychiatrist's intriguing past—and at the same time, the source of her own problems. ...

