Captive Heart (5 page)

             
Life went on, and so did Saskia's business.
SaskiBlue's Hair Extension How-Not-To's
got up to six pages of comments before they petered out. Being Youtube, a lot of it was garbage, but there were also a lot of calls to see more from her, and soon.

             
Saskia had more than enough research ahead of her to keep her distracted. She would be more than just another beauty blogger, but that meant having a mind for science and history as well as ambition. A stroke of inspiration hit her, and she began working feverishly on a comedic video sketch about ancient Egyptians and their use of eyeliner, comparing it to women in 21
st
century America. She painstakingly mapped out the video editing ahead of time, confident this was going to be her best work yet.

             
Almost a week went by without a glimpse of the man from upstairs. Curiously, she did not hear him either. From the night of their encounter onward, the apartment above hers was silent. Saskia might occasionally hear the footsteps of one going about mundane activities, but that was it. The sounds from above had been frightening at first, but now their absence was what made the nights seem huge and foreboding. An ominous silence, yes. That was how she described it. She took to staying on the phone with her father and Stacey as late into the night as they would let her, so she wouldn't have to face that silence alone.

             
Saskia knew the problem was not merely a lack of sound. She felt like her lover had abandoned her; left without saying a word. Without the sound of the hellish play, she tried to carry on with her own fantasies, but it was not the same. All it did was make her long for what had been. Her workday was relentless, her nights unfulfilling.

             
On the sixth day, Saskia hit a bit of a creative block on the latest text blog she was writing. To clear her mind she chose to get up and head down to the lobby to check her mail. Few things are more desolate than an empty mailbox. Saskia usually dreaded the prospect. Today, however, there was, indeed, a letter waiting in the ancient brass box. But it was not for her.

             
She nearly discarded it, thinking it had been intended for a previous resident who no longer resided in her abode. Then she saw the apartment number was not actually her own. The letter was addressed to one Fabio De Lucca, and the number corresponded to the apartment directly above her own. No return address lurked on the plain, white envelope to explain its origins.

             
It was for him.

             
Saskia Bergen had never even thought of opening another person's mail before. She had once been a good person who respected others' privacy as paramount. But that was before New York, before Fabio De Lucca and his wild nights that she had to overhear. She reasoned that, in a way, he owed it to her. He had taken from her both innocence and propriety. Taking another one of his secrets was only fair.

             
Once back inside her apartment, Saskia carelessly tore the envelope open and fanatically perused its contents. In the end, she had to reread the correspondence several times, its contents so outside her realm of experience that her comprehension skills needed time to catch up. What she beheld was essentially a contract of sorts between this Mr. De Lucca and a woman named Dominque Presnal. Saskia knew the name. She was an heiress who had married young to a prominent New York politician many times her senior. After his passing, she had kept her name in the news by serving on the boards of various non-profits and even dabbling in politics herself. Her contract with Mr. De Lucca – apparently in the midst of some sort of re-negotiation – entitled her to call on him for certain services.

             
Services that could end a politician's career or subject a non-profit organization to awkward questions.

             
It explained everything: all the noises, the bizarre carousing at all hours. It explained to Saskia what had happened but not why it had stopped.

             
She made no further progress on her blog that day. Long hours passed, afternoon stretching into evening. Once, Suzy knocked on her door, cheerfully calling to her. Saskia pretended to not be home. Just one more secret had been all she wanted. Now she had more of them than she knew what to do with. At her worst, she wondered if Suzy and Kayla wouldn't mind a guest sleeping on their couch and running a blog out of their apartment's den. She did not think she could stay here anymore underneath
that.

             
The soft click from above that signified a door unlocking snapped her out of her funk. De Lucca's footsteps trod through his apartment amid sounds of him settling in. Seized by an uncharacteristic impulse, Saskia exited her apartment before she could lose her nerve.

             
She almost did lose her nerve when, after knocking on Fabio De Lucca's front door, he opened it, glaring at her with all the perfection and disdain of an arrogant Greek god. The man's expression quickly changed, however, once he realized who stood before him. Astonishment flooded his perfect brown eyes. His delicious lips trembled almost imperceptibly as his stentorian voice uttered a single word:
“You...”

             
“Yes. Me,” said Saskia, her confidence boosted. In her fist she held up the letter. “And you've got some explaining to do.”

             
“Give me that!” De Lucca clutched for it desperately, but Saskia pulled it out of his reach. “I don't know why you're worried about me knowing it,” she taunted. “I've already heard it all. I hear everything you do. Now you're going to tell me why you do it. I think you owe me that much.”

             
Saskia had not expected him to drag her right out of the hallway and into his domain, nor had she counted on his sheer physical strength. In his grasp, she saw the lithe muscles pulsing underneath his dress shirt. Underestimating his speed and strength had been a mistake. He released her, but transitioned the motion, enabling him to lock the front door's deadbolt and sliding chain without stopping. She was now locked in with a potentially dangerous man. This only served to incense her. She had managed to keep hold of the letter. Now, she whipped her cell phone out with her other hand.

             
“The police are going to love this, you sonofabitch. Kidnapping, assault. Even in New York, that's got to get a response. You want me to call them? Or do you want to let me go, right after you tell me what kind of freak show you're running up here every night that's keeping me from ever sleeping, of course.”

             
De Lucca casually strolled to a wine chiller that stood against one wall of his sparsely furnished living room. Saskia thought he was going to go all James Bond villain on her and offer her a drink. But no, he just casually leaned against it, folding his hands in front of himself. “Actually, I do invite you to call the police. By all means, please do call them. I would welcome that. Tampering with another person's mail is a federal crime, you see.”

             
This information made Saskia falter. In her eagerness, she had not even considered the legalities. “It was delivered to my mailbox.”

             
“Which charged you with a legal obligation to return it to either the intended recipient – me – or to the United States postal service. You disobeyed that obligation. Oh, and then you just come up here intending to blackmail me? Tsk, tsk.”

             
“What? No.
No!
You're keeping me awake at night. It's driving me crazy. So I got this letter and I came up here to--”

             
“To what?” De Lucca cocked his head and crossed the distance to her in three short, commanding steps. “To violate federal law and invade my privacy? By dragging you in here I performed a citizen's arrest, accompanied by a lawful and reasonable use of force. I'm afraid you will find the law very much on my side in this matter.”

             
“You... You don't know that.” Saskia could feel herself melting like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. He was terrorizing her, and yet his voice had such
power...
Too late she understood the mistake she had made by coming here.

             
“I'm afraid I do,” he replied. “I'm an attorney; I should know. But I understand if you don't choose to take my word for it. You can always take that of the police, whom I still invite you to call. Or perhaps I should call them?”

             
“No!”
He had been reaching into his trouser pocket, presumably for a cell phone, but stopped at Saskia's cry. The look he gave her indicated that she should keep talking; that it was her move. Unfortunately, she was fresh out of moves. “What do you want?”

             
“Maybe nothing. If you've read that correspondence then you know what I am. I'm a professional dom. I provide favors that are sometimes of a blatantly sexual nature to women who pay good money for them and the discretion that comes with them. Between this and my day job I can fulfill just about any wants and needs I have on my own, Miss... I'm sorry, what should I call you?”

             
Now
he was doing the James Bond villain thing, walking a slow circle around her while he talked. She had always had a soft spot for the bad guys in those movies, though. “Bergen. Saskia Bergen.”

             
“Hmm. A beautiful name. Well, Ms. Bergen, here is something you probably weren't expecting. I may have disrupted your routine with the business I run out of my home, but as it turns out, you have disrupted my work already. You say I owe you explanations, but you come to me breaking laws and not even realizing that you already owe me something. What do I want in exchange for not seeing you prosecuted for your crimes, Ms. Bergen? I suppose what I want is the opportunity to collect what is already owed.”

             
His movements were hypnotic, his voice soothing and arousing all at once. What Saskia had felt in the lobby that day had not been a fluke. This man seethed erotic power, and he had literally pulled her into its depths, from which there was no escape. She knew she could not escape. On those early nights when she had lain awake listening, hadn't she already tried?

             
“What do I owe you then? What would I have to do?”

             
Fabio's predatory circle ended.  He stopped behind her and leaned in, bringing his lips right up to her ear. Her skin rippled and chilled to the honeyed words he breathed, “Oh, I think you know...”

             
In all the hours spent obsessing over the woman from downstairs, Fabio had never imagined that she would simply deliver herself to his front door. His work had ground to a halt. He had been making excuses to keep the women who came to him to be dominated away and was quickly running out of things to tell them. But how could he be what they needed when the curvy little siren he had met in the apartment lobby was the only woman he wanted to see? It had gotten to the point where he was considering finding some workable pretense to knock on her door.

             
When she showed up at his door waving his mail in his face, it was the last thing he had expected. It also had turned out to be exactly what he needed. Her boldness and attempts to make demands had reawakened the very drives inside him that she had accidentally extinguished upon their first meeting. Her lust for him that she thought she hid so well kicked that part of him into overdrive. When he had whispered in her ear, Fabio swore he could practically smell the surge in her hormones. His clients came to him already wanting to be dominated. Fabio wanted to dominate Saskia, and he made sure she understood this. She hesitated longer than he thought: long enough for him to worry. But when she breathed her nervous words of acquiescence, he understood that her heart had wanted this all along. In a way, her heart had been captive to it, and now he could set it free.

             
“How... does it work?” she asked, her blue-green eyes seeming to darken a shade as her body adjusted to increased arousal. “What are you going to do to me? What happens?”

             
Fabio did his best to conceal his own thrill at finally getting to touch her, running his fingers along her soft cheek. “It starts with you getting quite naked, my dear, and it ends with me making you cum. But a lot of other things happen in between.”
             

             
The lump in Saskia's throat bobbed as she gulped, steeling herself. “Very well.”

             
Her reaction impressed Fabio. She just might be a natural at this after all.

             
He wanted her clean - very clean. They might live in a rundown building, but he had taken it upon himself to make a few upgrades to the bathroom: small concessions to luxury, here and there, to make his lady clients feel more at home. Saskia eyed the enormous garden tub with anticipation and envy, but lest she get too comfortable, he informed her that he would watch while she disrobed. Saskia balked at this, but he reminded her that this couldn't very easily end the way he wanted it to if she concealed her body. But if she was having second thoughts, they could always go back to discussing the legality of her opening his mail.