Page 28 of Gilded

MALIA

I finish with the last fang on the saw-scaled viper. Both are now much bigger. And it feels like it amplifies the statement I was trying to make by building the snake in the first place.

Soren and my father have been back for days, and tension fills the house again. More people come and go—attorneys, men who work for my father in other countries. Most of whom I don’t know or have only seen once or twice.

Luka has been neck-deep in meetings and planning, and he hasn’t said much more than hello to me for six excruciating days. Every day that passes with him barely looking at me drives my depression a little deeper.

I touch up the bonding of the new teeth, then wander out of the studio and look out the window toward the pool as the sun sets.

I remind myself that this is good. This gives me a glimpse of what it will be like without him in my life.

No attention. No interest. No one to talk to.

No acknowledgment unless someone wants sex.

But not forever. Time away from Luka has allowed me to dig deeper into the internet, but finding the information I want is so much harder than I expected.

Still, I get a little spark of light every now and then.

I’ve found low-tech ways to create documents and even conversation threads on message boards about finding someone to create them for you.

They also discuss the best ways to avoid law enforcement and travel quietly between countries.

I’ve learned that abuse and the need to escape are far more prevalent than I expected, and knowing others suffer similar mental and physical abuse, I don’t feel so alone anymore.

I know I need a lot more to make this work. I also know I might very well fail and end up on the bad end of Soren’s temper. But what frightens me more is never finding freedom.

Soren appears on the pool deck and sits at the bar, talking with the bartender.

The mere sight of him drags my stomach to my feet.

What I learned from the internet about his sexual preferences makes bile back up in my throat.

I can’t unsee the photos that came up when I searched the terms. Can’t unlearn the details of the different sexual styles.

Luka wanders into the picture and talks to Soren for a minute. Black pants, white shirt. My heart floats to my throat, and tears tingle across the bridge of my nose. I didn’t realize how much space he filled in my life until he was gone.

Soren and Luka head toward the back door to the house and disappear from sight.

That whole losing-your-virginity thing was oversold in a big way. The only thing that feels different is a weird, empty, sad feeling in my chest, which I don’t understand at all.

I can still see the look on his face, still feel the chill inside him when he lifted me off his lap and sat me on the sofa, then left my room like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Yet he was in no rush to leave when we were at the café.

I’ve never met a man who gives so many mixed signals.

Voices sound near my door, and I tense, praying no one comes in. At least praying Soren doesn’t, but I’m not thrilled about seeing Luka either.

When no one enters, I crack the door. The hallway is empty, but Luka’s voice touches my ear, and I take a quick glance down the hall. When I find it empty, I step into my doorway and listen.

“…security systems,” Luka says. “It would only cost a thousand or two for the smaller facilities and maybe five for the larger ones. But then you could eliminate staff and have the systems pay for themselves in a matter of weeks. Systems don’t steal or betray either.”

“Yes,” my father says. “Do it.”

“These facilities are all only half full,” Luka says. “We should consolidate so each location is full and close to the others. It’ll cut down on peripheral costs.”

They’re talking about people like they’re animals. It doesn’t surprise me, but it does sicken me. And when I get this view of Luka, my opinion of him takes a sharp U-turn.

I close the door and rest back against it, eyes closed.

I leave for my trip to Thrive tonight, and I’m looking so forward to getting out of this house and away from these men I can taste it.

I also can’t wait to interact with real people, living a real life, albeit a difficult one.

These children are truly as resilient as they come.

In addition to helping them, I hope to draw inspiration, because I sure could use some.

A knock on my door makes me jump. I spin and press a hand against my chest. “Yes?”

“It’s me.”

Luka’s voice makes my heart skip. I take a slow, deep breath, steadying myself as I move into the living room. “Come in.”

He strolls in and closes the door. “Hi.”

My chest squeezes with longing. But this isn’t a man I should yearn for. “Hi.”

He moves forward, and I have to force myself not to step back. When he’s close, he slides a stray strand of hair off my face, then lifts my chin until my eyes meet his. “How are you doing?”

The question has a strange edge to it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, physically and emotionally, how are you feeling after having sex for the first time?”

Unexpected anger and hurt flush my skin. I obviously bought into the stupid fucking fairy tales my nannies read to me as a child. My body may have enjoyed Luka’s skill, but my heart is still an empty pit. I suppose you can take the girl out of the fairy tale, but not the fairy tale out of the girl.

It’s obvious I need to let go of that child and deal with being a woman.

Adulthood is just another overrated event.

“I was just thinking how I’m no different.

The oceans didn’t part. The sky didn’t fall.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but by the way everyone made such a big deal about how important it was, I guess I thought I’d have some mystical internal shift.

But I’m still just me with all the problems I had before. ”

“Don’t act disappointed with Soren,” he says, expression impassive. “He’ll translate that into being inadequate, and that would be very bad for you.”

“How am I supposed to act?”

“Like you did with me.”

Heat rushes up my neck. I exhale and shake my head. “Why did God make men so fucking insecure?”

Luka smirks. “Not all men. Men who take a woman’s pleasure seriously know when they’ve delivered and don’t need to ask for constant reassurance. Men who need their ego stroked don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

Uncomfortable, I change subject. “I should get going so I can head to the airport.”

“Are your bags packed?”

“Packed and at the front door, but I want to shower.”

He nods. “If we get to the airport early, we can wander through the shops.”

“You don’t have to go. The guards are taking me.”

“They’re taking us .”

I frown. “ You’re going to Kenya?”

“I am. I kicked Toby off the team.”

I let my mind wander around that idea for a second before saying, “ Why? ”

“Because I’m sick of his attitude.”

“No, I mean, why are you going?”

“I want to see how this charity angle works and because we need time together.”

I’m instantly defensive. “Charity angle?”

“How you handle the charity and the media to spin it in your father’s favor.”

“I don’t spin anything. I use the donations to help these communities.”

“And I want to see that.” His brows lift. “Is that a problem for you?”

Yes. Yes, it is. “Unlike me, you’re free to do as you please.”

“Then shower, and we’ll head out.”