The cellphone tumbles from Leonie’s hand and clatters onto the floor. Leilani quickly bends over and picks it up, taking care to place her thumb over the speaker. She doesn’t want the thousands of viewers to hear her conversation. Leonie reaches for the needle, but Leilani shakes her head.
“Don’t move too quickly,” Leilani says quietly. “If you pull it out the wrong way, you’ll have a miscarriage on the spot.”
“I don’t believe you,” Leonie says, but her eyes are filled with doubt. “You’re just jealous that I’m carrying Waylen’s child.”
“Oh please, we both know it isn’t Waylen’s,” Leilani says. “And more importantly, Waylen knows it’s not his either.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re carrying Waylen’s baby,” Leonie snaps.
Leilani rolls her eyes and says, “Did you know you can do a paternity test on a fetus? After three months, the baby’s DNA is in the amniotic liquid. They can test the liquid and determine the baby’s father. Waylen is going to take me to the hospital to do the test—you can come along too if you want.”
“I don’t need to do the test,” Leonie says defiantly. “Waylen is the only man I’ve ever been with—unlike you.”
“Then there’s no need to worry about the test,” Leilani says with a smile. “If what you say is true, the test will prove that your child is Waylen’s, and your status in the Bamford family will be secured.”
For a moment, Leonie seems about to agree. But then her eyes narrow and her forehead wrinkles. She steps forward, and Leilani backs away, keeping the phone behind her back.
“You’re trying to trick me somehow,” Leonie says. “I know the father of my baby without a test. Now, stop messing around and take this needle out.”
“Not yet,” Leilani says calmly. “First, I want you to do something for me. And don’t you dare tell the maids to attack me. Remember, I don’t care at all about your baby. At best, it’s just some bodyguard’s bastard, and at worst, it’s competition for my child.”
Leonie grits her teeth and asks, “What do you want?”
Leilani smiles, lifts the phone in the air, and says, “Sorry to all the live viewers—we had some technical problems. Anyway, Leonie just loved these s.e.xy outfits. She asked me to model some, and I agreed, but now it’s her turn to try them on.”
“Leilani,” Leonie hisses. “You can’t!”
Leilani covers the speaker again and says, “You have ten minutes to try all the outfits. Do as I say, and I’ll remove the needle. Now hurry up and give the fans what they want.”
Leilani looks down at the phone and sees that the number of viewers is surging. There are tens of thousands of people waiting to see Leonie model the s.l.u.tty outfits. Leilani tosses Leonie a red dress and waits for her to change. Leonie catches the dress, but she stands frozen, refusing to take her clothes off.
“You’re taking this way too far,” Leonie whispers. “I’m not putting this thing on.”
“Hmm, do you feel sagging distention in your abdomen? Do you feel shortness of breath?” Leilani asks. “Because those are common signs of miscarriage. Better hurry up, the longer the needle stays in place, the more dangerous it is for you.”
Leonie’s face goes pale. Leilani hopes that Leonie isn’t smart enough to catch the lie. Sagging distention in the abdomen is a common feeling during pregnancy, and Leonie is clearly short of breath because she’s nervous.
“Miss Summers, you don’t look so good,” the brunette maid says. “You’re really pale, and you’re practically panting.”
Slowly, Leonie begins to unzip her dress. Then she slides it off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, exposing her lacy white bra and panty set. She starts to lift the s.l.u.tty dress over her head, but Leilani stops her.
“Take the underwear off too,” Leilani says. “We want to give the viewers a full look, no?”
Leonie shoots a hateful look at Leilani, but she unclasped her bra and steps out of her panties. She carefully pulls the dress over her head, making sure she doesn’t bump the needle. The dress is made entirely out of red tassels. Every time Leonie breathes or moves, the tassels swing back and forth, revealing her pale skin.
“It looks amazing on you,” Leilani says, pointing the camera at Leonie.
Leonie holds one hand in front of her crotch and uses her other arm to cover her b.r.e.a.s.ts. Her face is bright red, and her eyes flash angrily. Leilani slowly circles around her, letting the viewers see the dress from all angles.
“Your followers love the look,” Leilani says. “They want you to give them a spin. You don’t want to disappoint them, do you?”
“I—I can’t,” Leonie stammers.
“Of course you can,” Leilani says. “This dress was clearly designed to move. Show it off!”
Leonie smiles stiffly and begins to spin. As she spins the tassels move, showing her b.r.e.a.s.ts and ass. Thousands of comments from women and men alike appear on the live stream. Leonie stops spinning and tries to hold the tassels in place.
“That’s enough,” Leonie wails. “You’ve gone too far, Leilani!”
“I’ve gone too far?” Leilani asks, rolling her eyes. “You started this when you sent your servants to humiliate me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leonie says. “Please just take the needle out.”
Leilani steps behind Leonie and gently tugs the needle. It slides out of Leonie’s neck, leaving a small red pinprick of blood. Leonie stares at her in shock.
“What the hell, Leilani—why did you just pull it out so casually?” Leonie asks. Understanding slowly dawns on her face, and she says, “Wait, you liar! I bet there’s no such thing as a quepen point.”
“There is,” Leilani says. “And it could cause miscarriage. Luckily for you, that’s not where I stuck the needle.”
Leilani crosses the room and opens the nightstand drawer. She reaches inside and pulls out her small silver pistol. She hides it behind her palm and stares deep into Leonie’s eyes. After several moments, Leonie looks down at her feet, and Leilani stares down the three servants.
“Listen carefully, because I’m not going to warn you again,” Leilani says. “Don’t mess with me.”
She grabs the pistol and fires three shots at the ceiling. The servants scream and run out of the room, and Leonie sprints after them, still wearing the tassel dress. Leilani sinks onto the bed in exhaustion and stares up at the bullet holes in the ceiling. I can’t stay here, she thinks. They may be scared now, but soon they’ll be back. I’ll be tormented constantly. Besides, I have to meet Andrew.
Leilani lies on her bed and stares out the dirty window, watching the sun slowly move across the sky. She hears girlish laughter, and she sits up, wrapping the sheet around her body. She tries to open the door of the bedroom and smiles when she realizes it’s unlocked. On tiptoe, she creeps down the hallway and out the back door.
She walks to the arched bridge over the Lover’s River. Two young maids are sitting on the bridge, dangling their feet in the green water. One of the maids splashes the other, and they both giggle. Between them, there’s a small crystal bottle. The sun reflects off the bottle and sparkles on their faces. As soon as they see Leilani, they stop laughing.
“Mrs. How—I mean Miss Peters,” one of the maids says.
The two women quickly jump to their feet, grab their shoes, and run back toward the house. Something bright catches Leilani’s eye, and she crosses the wet bridge to see what it is. It’s the crystal bottle. In their rush to leave, the maids forgot it.
Next, the bottles are several damp pieces of paper and two pens. Leilani looks at the river and sees several bottles floating and bobbing in the gentle current. She smiles to herself.
I remember hearing a story about Columbus, she thinks. He was worried he’d never return to Europe, so he wrote a letter to the queen of Spain and put it in a bottle with a map. He threw the bottle into the Atlantic Ocean, hoping it would somehow reach Europe. The bottle wasn’t found for 300 years.
She takes a piece of paper and a pen and starts writing. What will happen if this message isn’t found for 300 years? She wonders.
Leilani scribbles a few words on the damp paper and rolls it up. She slips it into the bottle, carefully corks the bottle, and tosses it into the river. There’s a small splash, and the bottle slowly bobs away on the current. Leilani watches until it disappears.
Something cold splashes down on Gabrielle’s head, and the strong smell of alcohol burns her nose. She looks up and sees Jackson holding an empty liquor bottle. He smirks and points at the front of her gown.
“I think you have something on your dress,” he says.
Gabrielle looks down at the sequined dress and screams. There’s a small, dead seahorse stuck to the fabric. She picks it up with two fingers and flinches at the cold, slimy feel. She throws the liquor-soaked seahorse at Jackson and wipes her fingers on the skirt of her gown.
“What’s your problem?” she asks. “Why do you keep dumping your alcohol on me?”
She tries to wipe the cold liquid from her face with the back of her hand, but it drips down from her hair. The strong smell makes her dizzy. She turns to run to the bathroom, but a powerful hand closes around her upper arm.
“Don’t you dare run from me, you ungrateful bitch,” Jackson hisses. “If you try to escape again, I’ll break both your legs.”
With a broad sweep of his hand, Jackson clears all the wine glasses and bottles off the bar. They crash to the floor and shatter everywhere. He lifts Gabrielle up as if she weighs nothing and puts her on top of the bar. With an icy glare, he pulls her gown up to her thighs and forces her legs open. He steps between them, the smooth silk of his robe brushing against her soft thighs.
He grabs a bottle of red wine from the counter behind the bar and pinches her jaw. She gasps in pain, and he begins to pour the liquid down her throat. She coughs and chokes and shakes her head back and forth. The burning liquid makes her want to vomit, but there’s nothing in her stomach beside the wine.
“Jackson, stop,” she gasps, pushing weakly against his chest. “Wait, please wait.”
His black silk bathroom is open at the chest, revealing pale skin and chiseled muscles. His hair is messy, and his eyes are glazed with alcohol and desire. He reaches behind her and begins to unzip her gown.
“No, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers.
Gabrielle grabs his neck and digs her nails in, “No, I have something I need to talk to you about.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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