Searching for Stolen Love Page 24

  ***

  Svetlana entered Yelena's room. She laid on the bed with her face buried in the pillow. She was not sleeping, but she was lost in deep thought. Her cheek pulsated shades of red, where Sasha smacked her.

  Svetlana placed the plate of food on the vanity. Then she pulled the chair away from the vanity and sat across from Yelena. Svetlana wanted a heart-to-heart talk with her. She began in a suave, smooth voice, “Hi sweetie, my name is Svetlana.”

  “What do you want?” Yelena replied with icicles forming in her breath.

  “The boss wants me to talk to you. He wants to put you to work as soon as possible.”

  “I’m not a whore!” Yelena screamed, and then snapped, “I would never sell my body for money.”

  Svetlana scolded, “You don’t understand the position you’re in. Sasha is more than a boss; he owns you. You’re his property. He can do anything he wants with you. If you’re smart, you will wise up and go with the program. If you cause problems, then Sasha will tie you to heavy bricks and toss you into the sea. You’ll disappear, and nobody will know where you are buried except for Sasha. So you wise up!”

  Yelena looked up from her pillow, and she glared at her guest.

  She repeated, “Just go with the program. Montenegro is a beautiful country. You get to go shopping, stroll along the seaside boulevard or ride around in a Mercedes. Sasha will take good care of you. You just let the men do what they want with you. So what if you sleep with a couple of men every day. Just lie on your back and think happy thoughts. Just let your mind go somewhere else. Then once they’re finished, you can enjoy Montenegro. Sasha can be a good master if you obey him and work hard for him. That’s the key to staying on Sasha's good side. You must work hard for him, so he’ll take good care of you.”

  Yelena's face reddened in anger. She screamed, “I’m not a whore! I don’t have sex for money.”

  Svetlana smiled, knowing the first few clients are the toughest. After a week, Yelena would harden as her inhibitions disappeared. She would go with the program. She’ll lie on her back, open her legs, and let any man have his way with her as long as he paid for it.

  Svetlana reached out and caressed Yelena's arm gently and continued, “I know you don’t like it. I can understand. When I first came to Montenegro, I didn’t like it either, but I had no choice. I could’ve ran away and made my way to the Russian Embassy, and begged my government to send me back. I, unfortunately, don’t have anything to go back to. My father is a helpless alcoholic; my mom was placed in a mental hospital, and my brother joined the Russian navy to escape our depressing little town. You see; Montenegro is not so bad after all, especially if you don’t have anything to go back to.”

  Yelena looked up at Svetlana and stared into her eyes. Her anger subsided a little, but her voice was still obstinate, “I can understand your situation, but I’m not you. I do have someone, and I love him very much, and he loves me. I have someone to return to.”

  “What?” Svetlana asked in a confused voice. A very unusual story, Svetlana inquired further, “What do you mean that you have someone?”

  “His name is Keith. He teaches at a university in Bosnia. We fell in love with each other.”

  Svetlana noticed the faraway look in Yelena's eyes when she said 'Keith.'

  “His name is not Slavic. It sounds like English or American,” as Svetlana probed further.

  “He’s an American.”

  A surprised look swept across Svetlana's face. She glanced up and down Yelena's body. Svetlana was certain she pegged Yelena for a simple Serbian girl, whose bruises and scars faded from the constant fights and drama of a dysfunctional family. Svetlana knew Yelena was not an ordinary Serbian girl who would choose prostitution rather than return to her family.

  Svetlana leaned closer and asked, “How’d you find him?”

  “I didn’t find him; he found me. I work at a coffee shop in Tuzla, and he asked me out.”

  Svetlana declared more as a statement than as a question, “Wow, what are the odds of that happening? He sounds like an educated man who happened to wonder into a small coffee shop and by chance fell in love with the waitress. It sounds like a Cinderella story.”

  “I know. It just happened.” Then the tears began flowing from Yelena's eyes as she began to think about Keith again.

  Svetlana's calculating mind began churning. One thing better than living in Montenegro was finding an American husband, especially an educated, sophisticated, successful husband. She knew about the U.S. divorce courts as all Russian women know. The law doesn’t care how long the marriage lasted. Once the man says 'I do,' the wife becomes entitled to at least half his assets and sometimes more. Svetlana heard a couple of women from her hometown that did exactly that. They married American men and cleaned them out. Perhaps they left some dirty rags under the kitchen sink, but the women took everything else of value.

  Svetlana asked sweetly, “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “What’s the question?”

  “How did you arrive in Montenegro?”

  “I was waiting for Keith, and these two goons grabbed me and kidnapped me,” Yelena moaned, with tears streaking down her face and added between sobs, “Then the next thing I know I’m in a car trunk, and here I am, at this house.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Svetlana said with sincerity. She knew Americans were many things, but the men never sold their girlfriends to the mafia for a little cash. But she knew some Russian men would not hesitate to sell their mate into sex slavery: Hey honey, let's take a vacation down in Turkey? I know this great spot. You’ll love it there and never want to leave.

  Svetlana hugged Yelena and whispered into her ear, “Look; I’m going to take care of you. Please trust me.” Then she let go and said, “Please eat and then freshen up a little.”

  “Wait, don't go yet, Svetlana,” Yelena mumbled.

  “I apologize, but I must work tonight. I must go down to the hotel for the night. Can I get you anything else?”

  “I’m dying for a cigarette. I haven’t had a cigarette in days.”

  “Well Sasha doesn’t like it when we smoke. Some clients are so particular about their needs. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Svetlana knocked on the door. Once the door opened, she left the room for a couple of minutes and quickly returned. She placed two Montenegrin cigarettes and a pack of matches into Yelena's eager hand. The brand was Royal Red, and the Montenegrin's double-headed eagle proudly stretched its wings across the front of the pack.

  Yelena smiled slightly.

  “Please, blow your smoke out the window. I don't want to get into trouble with Sasha. He imposes very strict house rules. He can be a bastard if you break them. Before I go, can I ask you one last question?” Svetlana asked kindly.

  “Yes, by all means.”

  “What is your name?”

  “My name is Yelena Backovich.”

  Then Svetlana hugged Yelena tightly, and she knocked on the door to leave Yelena's room.

  A large bodyguard peeked into the bedroom holding Svetlana by the arm. Once he spotted Yelena, he nodded his head and let Svetlana go. Then he latched the door shut and returned to his chair to read his magazine.

  Svetlana saw Sasha standing in the hallway outside of Yelena’s door with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He started to unbutton his shirt, getting ready to break in the new girl.

  Svetlana approached Sasha and sweetly embraced him. Then she whispered into his ear so the guard would not overhear, “Sasha, she’s not ready. That long trip in the trunk messed her up a little. I would give her a couple of days. A couple of days of rest will make the wait worth the while.”

  Sasha frowned like a bad boy being punished from playing with his favorite toy.

  Svetlana started caressing his crotch and added, “I tell you what. I'll do that thing you like. I'm always ready for you, Sasha. You’re the only man who can satisfy me.”

  Sasha pushed Svetlana’s hand away. Then he ordered, “S
vetlana, you need to work tonight.”

  Svetlana started caressing his side and after a minute, her hand was back in Sasha’s crotch.

  This time, Sasha closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

  Svetlana whispered, “Sasha, I still have time. Besides if I am a little late, then I can stay over and work a little over time.” Svetlana kept massaging Sasha's crotch while Sasha gritted his teeth in pleasure. Then she led Sasha away from Yelena's room and into Sasha's bedroom.

  Svetlana smiled as she led Sasha away. She smiled because she didn’t love her job, but she had protected Yelena. Yelena would be safe tonight. She knew nobody touched the new girl until Sasha had his way with her first. Yelena would become her ticket out of this place, a ticket to a better way of life, far away from Montenegro and Sasha.