The Protector (Closed for TheVoiceWithout)

[SweetAsSuga]

A cage. Her whole life had been nothing but a cage, a gilded one perhaps, but a cage nonetheless. As the plane taxied down the runway, Zora Petrov stared out the window to the city skyline in the distance. Manhattan would be a vast improvement on Moscow, but while the scenery and temperature might have changed, the fact that she was still a prisoner to her father's bidding had not.

As the daughter of Alexander Petrov, a man who owned half of Russia's land and technology, Zora had been a prisoner from the time she was born. Her entire life was planned for her, everything from what she did in her spare time to what she learned in school, even the way she dressed was dictated by her father. And now, she was being sent to America to marry a man she'd never even met, a man that her father had chosen for her because of his business and political connections.

"Miss Petrov," the flight attendant, a pretty little blonde that her father was no doubt fucking, leaned towards her, "we've landed. You may unbuckle your seat belt now."

Zora cast the woman a contemptuous glare. She would unbuckle her seat belt when she was damn well ready. In the seats behind her, Zora's assistant was gathering up the bags.

"Zora, we must be going." Cassandra, her assistant, said. "The car will be waiting for you and I'm sure Mr. Conway is very anxious to meet you."

Cassandra became Zora's assistant shortly after the young Petrov graduated college - Oxford, as her father would only have the best for her. Now, four years later, Zora had come to rely on Cassandra, had come to see her as more of a friend than an employee.

"If we must." She sighed, standing up and straightening her back as much as she could within the cramped private jet.





The penthouse suite of the Pierre hotel had a breathtaking view of Central Park, but Zora was too consumed with her own thoughts to pay any attention to the sight. She sat on the plush, white sofa that sat in front of the common room's fireplace. Though it was barely into October, the fire was already burning brightly, making the room feel stuffy and hot. Zora toyed with the hem of her Prada dress, a simple A-line number in a soft floral print. She had arrived only a few moments ago, but already she wanted to run, screaming for the hills.

On the chair opposite her, Henry Conway sat studying his future bride. In his late forties, Conway had the slightly stooped shoulders and the thin, graying hair of a man who had spent his whole life behind a desk dealing with board members. He was still fit, though his carefully tailored suit showed a slight strain around the middle. He tried to appear amiable and had greeted Zora with a pleasant smile when she'd entered his suite. But she could not shake the thought that he had essentially purchased her for his bride. The fourteen carat diamond that he had placed on her hand was just a fancy shackle in her mind.

"I'm sure that you will understand the need for this," he was saying. Zora turned a confused look at him. She had completely tuned him out as he was speaking and now she couldn't help but think she'd missed something.

"He'll take good care of you, don't worry. Anything you need he can get for you, but his primary goal will be protecting you. After all, I can't have my future wife disappearing on me." Conway chuckled lightly as if making a big joke. And it was then that Zora noticed the man standing to his side. The man that Conway had just assigned as her body guard. The man that would serve as her jailer.

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

Cal was sick of New York, though he’d barely been in the city for a week. It was unseasonably warm, which always tended to disagree with him. The air was thick with the scents of summer’s last gasp, the atmosphere everywhere poised to make the leap into fall with a drop in temperature and a flash of color, though it seemed it just wouldn’t come… The trees had begun to turn, slowly, around the edges, and at night there was a distinctly crisp chill to the air, but during the day it was the same sweltering heat that had endured all summer long. He readjusted his jacket, shaking it out to hopefully send a little bit of a breeze across his neck, though all he managed to do was crumple his collar and cause his shoulder holster to twist and bight into his chest.

Looking over at the man walking beside him, a smirk of light disgust crossed his face. Jenkins, his sometime partner and escort for this auspicious meeting, looked more cool and comfortable than it seemed possible to be. As if on cue, he turned and gave Cal a bright smile, “Relax guy, soon enough we’ll be inside again and you won’t have to regret bringing that horrible jacket along today,” he finished with a wink that made Cal want to haul off and slug him. He had a point, though; Cal had picked probably the worst possible jacket for the heat, but it was also the nicest one he owned and from what he’d read of their potential clients, he didn’t want to show up looking shabby. Conway was big time, and this was his first real big time solo gig. Technically he wasn’t going to be dealing with Conway himself, but with his fiancée, which had earned him more than a few jibes from his fellow ‘contractors.’

Still, if he played his cards right, this could lead to bigger and better things. Everyone, even Jenkins, had told him not to get his hopes up, keep his head down and just do what he was told, but that didn’t stop him daydreaming from time to time and hoping for something better. After all, nobody wanted to be stuck guarding some stuck up princess or heiress or whatever for the rest of their days… Of course, they were right; all he’d really have to do was keep his head down and keep an eye on her. Probably carry her shopping or some ridiculous thing like that. Everyone had regaled him the night before over drinks about the indignities they’d suffered at the hands of their charges, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. But he had to put his best foot forward, regardless, especially since Conway was going to be meeting them as they picked up the fiancée.

The Pierre hotel was old and picturesque, beautiful and above all else, quite rich. It was evident from every angle that he wouldn’t ever be able to afford to stay there, probably wouldn’t even be able to manage a view of the lobby if not for being a part of this detail. Still, that was part of the reason he’d gotten into personal protection, or ‘security management’ or whatever it was they were calling it these days… That and at six and a half feet tall, with his stature and gait, he was what they called ‘a natural.’ It didn’t hurt that his long, angular face, dark hair and slate grey eyes were intimidating enough to scare off most minor threats before they could develop, either. Even Conway had been a little taken aback upon seeing him for the first time. Cal had a habit of staring just a little too long that seemed to unnerve people, though he liked to claim it was just his way of being ‘extra observant, just in case.’

When the pair finally managed to make their way up to the penthouse they were met by Conway’s own personal retainers, both of them stone faced and silent as they studied the newcomers. The quartet stood stock still, gauging and judging for perhaps a minute before one of Conway’s men gave the slightest of nods, gesturing for Cal to go inside. He gave Jenkins a quick handshake and got a slap on the back for his trouble, followed by another annoyingly jovial wink before the pair parted. Cal then moved inside, more than a little surprised that the already lavish décor had somehow become even more-so. He exchanged hellos with his client, Henry, and the two moved into the common room, Conway taking a seat opposite a young woman while Cal stood patiently and quietly at his side. As he began to speak, it dawned on Cal that the young woman on the couch was to be his charge, which took him aback more than a little. He’d expected… Well, someone a little closer to his client’s age bracket, perhaps, though he knew things were different for the rich. Still, he could practically see the privilege exuding from her, as though it cloaked her like an aura that would follow her wherever she went, opening doors and covering offenses and infractions as if they’d never happened… His jaw tightened involuntarily as he studied her, though his outward appearance remained the perfectly stone still exterior he’d practiced to the point of perfection. It’s just a stepping stone to something better, he kept telling himself, over and over…

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Looking up at Cal through carefully veiled eyes, Zora hid the contempt that she held for the man. He was a complete stranger to her, she didn't know anything about him, but it was what he represented that she despised. This man, through no fault of his own, was her scape goat, the one she was destined to hate because of the decisions of her father and fiance.


"I hope you don't object," Henry Conway was continuing to speak. His voice was husky and Zora supposed many women found it extremely sexual when coupled with his heavily lidded eyes, "bedroom eyes" as Zora had often heard those types descirbed, "But I've taken the liberty of setting up the other half of this suite for you and your associates." He inclined his head politely towards Cassandra, who smiled gently.

Traitor. Zora thought as she flashed an annoyed glare at Cassandra. The woman ignored her.

The last thing Zora wanted was to be stuck in this god forsaken penthouse with her future husband. Granted the penthouse suite took up the entire top floor of the Pierre, but she would never feel like she had her own space.

The air felt heavy and Zora struggled to breath, but she refused to allow anyone to see her weakness. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, but she would not let them fall.

"Please, let me show you to your room." Henry stood, his stature impressive at six foot with broad shoulders. He offered his hand to Zora. Fighting a rising wave of nausea, Zora took his hand, his skin felt cool and thin beneath hers, and allowed him to lead her to the far side of the penthouse.

Zora was vaguely aware of Cal following behind them. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder and caught him eyeing the impressive layout and rich ornaments strewn throughout the suite. She couldn't help but wonder what his story was. What had led him to become a bodyguard.

No, she could not focus on finding the man beneath the mask. If she was to survive, if she was to finally gain her freedom, Zora needed to think of Cal as just another piece of the cage.

"I hope it meets your standards," Henry was grinning as he opened the double doors which led to Zora's bedroom. "If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. I want you to be happy here, Zora. I want you to know that I intend to do everything in my power to make you smile."

His eyes searched her face, practically begging for her to show an emotion, any emotion. but Zora remained stoic, her eyes taking in the bedroom with its plush bed, no doubt draped in Egyptian cotton, and the panoramic windows taking in the view of the city. She blinked, a scream scratching desperately at her throat. If she spoke now it would only claw its way out.

"Well then..." Henry faltered and he released her hand, letting his own drop to his side like a dead limb. "I'll just...I'll just leave you to get settled then."

Zora waited until she heard the doors shut behind her.

"You don't need to be so harsh." Cassandra reprimanded her with a rough whisper. "The man clearly is smitten with you. Give him a chance and he might make you happy."

"I won't be happy until I am free of this." Zora responded, her head held high. She moved further into the room and dropped her purse onto the bed. Turning back around to face Cassandra she paused. Cal stood, unmoving, by the doors, his eyes tracking her movements. She met his gaze, allowing the veil to fall and the full force of her contempt to show.

"What are you still doing here?" She spat. "As you can see I am perfectly safe inside this prison. I do not need a warden standing around watching me. Get out of my room and if I need you I will call for you." Spinning on her designer heels, Zora pushed open the French doors that led out onto the room's balcony. The fresh air filled her lungs as she breathed in deeply. Her mind was moving a mile a minute as she thought about her situation. How the hell was she going to get out of this? And how was she going to escape from her guard?

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

Cal listened patiently to the exchange between the two, wondering what exactly he’d gotten himself into. Conway seemed to be genuinely interested in the young woman’s happiness, and he’d clearly spared no expense in order to achieve it, the opulent penthouse a clear testament to that end. She seemed… Resigned? No, it was stronger than that. She seemed to actively resent everything about the place, and the man she was engaged to. That would explain the look she’d given him upon noticing him before.

Gazing around as they moved into what was to be her bedroom, Cal was awed by the sheer size and scope of everything around him. There was probably more wealth in that one room than he’d ever see in his working life, and she seemed to pass by the entirety of it as though it were a lowly hovel and she’d been told she would have to shovel it. As Conway made another attempt at communication, Cal settled back against the wall beside the door in practiced fashion, clasping his hands in front of his waist and scanning the room. No doubt the room had already been swept and cleared, but he would prefer to make his own checks soon enough… The two women began speaking, and suddenly, her eyes were on him, full of rage and frustration. Her voice dripped venom as she practically spat at him, sending him away like some chastised household servant in a tone that sounded very practiced indeed. No doubt she’d done this sort of thing before. He weighed the options carefully, still unmoving, as she turned and stomped off. So that’s how it’s going to be?

Turning to the other woman whose name he couldn’t remember catching before, if at all, Cal gave her a questioning look, at which she only shook her head and turned to the young woman on the balcony. It would probably be easier to simply defer to her wishes, he reasoned, but that wasn’t what he was being paid for. He was here as her bodyguard, and until he was comfortable with this place as a safe location, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Stepping further into the room so as not to have to shout, he addressed the young woman as she looked to be peering out over the cityscape below. “Miss, I’m afraid I cannot do that. I’m here to protect you, first and foremost, as your fiancé said. I’ll be as unobtrusive as I can, but I’ll need to remain here until this place is cleared.”

That certainly wouldn’t win him any points in her book, but at the moment he wasn’t terribly concerned with her liking him. He didn’t want her seeing him as some servant she could call or dismiss on a whim, and it was important to define that dynamic early on, especially with such a rich, stuck up one such as her. Though he didn’t know her story, he could picture the familiar outline well enough; well to do family, probably spent all of her days doing and getting whatever she wanted, never a care or concern in the world, never knowing what it was like to struggle and fight for a meager living in a rundown apartment on the far side of the city. Hers was a life of private jets, evening gowns and parties, and the thought of it made Cal both a little envious and a little disgusted to think about. Gritting his teeth and setting his lips into a fine, tight line, he turned to the other woman and said softly, “I’m going to look around a little, just to make sure everything’s as it should be.” His eyes scanning the walls, the floor, looking for anything that might be out of place, before adding with a soft grin, “Is she always like this?”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

She could hear them talking about her in the other room, but Zora chose to turn a deaf ear to the noise. Let Cal think what he wanted of her, she didn't give a damn. Turning her attention to the city below her, Zora lost herself in the noise, the hustle and bustle of the ant sized people beneath her. What she wouldn't give to be a part of that life, to live her own life without interference from her father, to be able to make her own decisions. The people down there didn't realize how lucky they were.

All her life, Zora had lived as a captive of Alexander Petrov. Her entire life was planned by him. The schools she went to, the friends she had, every waking moment of her life was scheduled as her father wanted. Never had Zora been asked what she wanted to do, never was she allowed a moment to herself, and never was she able to discover the things that made her happy. And now, her own husband had been chosen for her without any thought as to what Zora thought of Henry Conway. After she was married it would no doubt be more of the same. But Zora would not allow it to come to marriage, she would get out. And there was no time like the present.

With her chin lifted defiantly, Zora stalked back into the room.

"You," she said glancing over at Cal who was checking the room over, "I'm going out to see the city." The agitation coursing through her brought out hints of her Russian accent. Grabbing her purse, Zora slung it over her shoulder and marched to the doors. She didn't dare to bother checking to see if he was following her, she knew that he would be and she had plans to ditch him as swiftly as possible once she reached the crowd on the street.

Cassandra moved to follow her out of the room, but Zora shook her head. "I won't be needing you today, Cassandra," she said, "you may stay here and make sure my things are unpacked properly."

It hurt Zora to speak in such a way to the one woman who she could call a true friend, but Cassandra would, no doubt, report Zora's escape to her father and that was not a complication that she needed.

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, Zora stood silently with Cal beside her, his posture so straight and rigid that he was like a statue. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was intimidating to look at with his height and broad shoulders, no doubt something that counted in his favor in his line of work. But brawn was nothing if you didn't have the brains to back it up, and Zora sincerely hoped that he was lacking those brains. Otherwise, she would not be able to ditch him easily.

The doors slid open and she made her way out into the lobby, her heels clicking purposefully on the marble floor. Nodding briskly to the doorman who opened the glass-panned doors, Zora swiftly moved into the throng of people, weaving her way through the mass of bodies quickly, hoping to lose Cal.

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

The young woman had seemed to have grown weary of the balcony, though how, Cal couldn’t have imagined. To be able to sit and watch the comings and goings of all those people from on high like that, perched atop a tower so high it must have felt halfway to the clouds, everyone below miniscule in comparison, would have been hard for Cal to tear himself away from given the chance. Not that he’d ever have the chance, though, as the balcony was a terrible vantage point for the rest of the apartment, almost completely shielded from the entrances, and he wouldn’t be unable to keep any sort of regular eye on his charge from there. Still, he could dream, couldn’t he? Nonetheless, the young woman seemed able to remove herself from it easily enough, brushing past both he and the woman he took to be her assistant in favor of the labyrinthine streets below. The harshness with which she spoke to her assistant only confirmed her nature in Cal’s mind. Just another stuck-up heiress or some such, perhaps a media baron’s daughter, though an eastern european accent slipped into her voice along with her anger, and he switched his interpretation to possibly an ambassador or foreign dignitary’s daughter.

The ride down was quiet, the only sound the hum and clack of the elevator, and even that was barely audible. She seemed as determined to remain still as he, though she wavered ever so slightly atop her heels from time to time. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Cal caught reflected glimpses of her image in the panels of the elevator, her demeanor hard and determined; a look he new quite well from his days pre-security specialist. It was the look of someone who had obvious ideas about their place in the world, who knew the path they were determined to take and would buck the system and anyone else who tried to keep them from it. That look made Cal nervous, and though his expression remained unchanged, inside his mind began racing as wheels turned and he thought over possibilities that might occur once they were out in the open. Not knowing enough about her, little more than her name, really, which he had only gleaned from Conway a few days previously, he couldn’t be sure what it was she was running from, or perhaps running to, but he knew it would mean trouble for him.

Once they reached the ground floor she took off at a brisk pace, not once looking back in her determination to escape the hotel, plunging into the daytime crowd as though born for it. The way she twisted between oncoming pedestrians without losing stride was admirable, as was the way she seemed able to judge the best place to squeeze through in order to avoid getting caught up in crossing waves of people. To Cal, though, it was like swimming against the sea… The swarms of people came at him, pushed past and around him, causing him to get hung up again and again as he fought to keep up with her and slowly losing, like a swimmer caught in a riptide. A light ahead changed and she charged off with the crowd, still keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the way ahead, and he gritted his teeth, determined not to lose her. He wasn’t built for this maze of asphalt and concrete, this hive of steel and plastic and glass. His legs were long, but the distances were too small; his body too large for the small spaces. “Miss… Miss Petrov!” He called, but she was already fifteen feet ahead and pushing further.

He realized then his best chance of catching up with her was to take the outside path, nearest the street, just near the edge where the bikers would zip past between trees and parked cars. His height allowed him something of an advantage, as he was able to keep an eye on her from slightly above the heads of the others around him, and her auburn hair shone brightly among the drab multitude around her. A thought occurred to him then; perhaps she had intended for him to lose track, to become lost in the sea of bodies. Gritting his teeth, Cal kept her no more than twenty feet away, waiting for her to stop long enough for him to catch up, determined she wouldn’t escape, no matter what. Perhaps it was a test, or a game to her, but for him it was much, much more and he would not allow some pampered, spoiled, bratty little girl to make a fool of him.

“Miss Petrov!” he tried again, louder now, though he doubted she heard him above the din of traffic and construction and sheer bodily noise that echoed through the streets around them. For all he knew she could be ignoring him completely; he certainly wouldn’t have put it past her at that point. It looked as though he would catch a break, she seemed to be stopping at a small boutique café, though for how long he didn’t know. He lost her as she stepped inside, but quickly closed the distance and went in as well, surprising a trendy young couple about to leave, to whom he quickly apologized, “Sorry, just looking for a friend. Bit of a hurry, you understand.” Brushing past them, he spied his charge, stomped up to her and reached out for her wrist, wrapping a hand around it and turning her around to face him. “Miss Petrov, you shouldn’t have run like that. This city is dangerous, and your fiancé has asked that I protect you. You know this. Please don’t try that again, or I’ll be forced to secure you…” he gave her wrist a gentle squeeze, fingers tightening until he could feel her pulse. “By whatever means necessary.” He wanted to squeeze harder, to let some of the pent up frustration and anger loose, though he knew this was neither the time nor the place, and she certainly wasn’t the person he wanted, just some snobbish young woman with no regard for others… His voice became cool and modulated again, his face the perfect picture of calm serenity. “Neither of us wants that, right miss?” Letting go, he stepped back, folded his hands together behind his back and took a long, slow breath.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Behind her, Zora could hear Cal shouting her name, but she did not dare to look back. Already she could taste the freedom and she was not about to let that feeling go. Moving as effortlessly as a cat, Zora moved through the crowd while Cal, no doubt, was struggling like a fish swimming upstream. Hoping to get out of eyesight, Zora ducked into the next open shop, which happened to be a small cafe. Moving swiftly towards the back, she prayed that an employee exit was close or a delivery door, anything that would allow her to escape into a back alley and away from her bodyguard.

A firm, unyielding hand wrapped around her small wrist.

“Miss Petrov, you shouldn’t have run like that. This city is dangerous, and your fiancé has asked that I protect you. You know this. Please don’t try that again, or I’ll be forced to secure you…By whatever means necessary.”

She turned to glare at him as he squeezed her wrist, his fingers pressing into the tender skin. Zora bit her lip to keep from spitting in his face. She wanted to scream and claw at him, she wanted to kick and hit and bite. But his grip was tight and she knew that if she tried to escape right then that he could easily break her.

“Neither of us wants that, right miss?” His tone was cool, emotionless, as if it was a normal occurance for him to restrain a girl in such a fashion.

"No, we don't." Zora hissed at him, her eyes blazing with unspoken fury.

As Cal led her back to the hotel, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd, Zora began to plot. She would lay low for a bit, let him think that she was being compliant, then, when he let his guard down a bit, she would escape.

"Well that was rather fast." Cassandra said as Zora stalked into her room. Her curious gaze moved from Zora to Cal.

Sulking like a child, Zora flopped onto her bed and stared up at the gilded ceiling.

"Get out." She said, her voice rough.

"Zora?" Cassandra moved towards her.

"I said get out!" Zora screamed, throwing a pillow at the woman. "I want you both out of here now!"

Her pride was hurt. Her heart was begging to be free. And all Zora wanted was a little privacy in which to indulge in a rare cry. Already she could feel the tears pricking at her eyes, wanting to escape. But she refused to let them fall in front of anybody. She couldn't do this. She couldn't marry a man she didn't love, let alone know. She couldn't go on pretending that she was happy with the way her father dictated her life. It was tearing Zora up inside. How could nobody care what she felt or what she wanted? How come nobody could see that she was dying inside?

She heard the door to her room shut and, burying her face in the nearest pillow, Zora let out a muffled scream as her body began to shake with heavy sobs.

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

The walk back to the hotel was… quiet. The young woman appeared to be behaving, though for how long Cal didn’t dare presume. Ever watchful of the crowd they were passing through, he kept a close eye on her as well. Luckily, she seemed to have grown docile, though more likely she had just resigned herself to being escorted, but whatever the case he was grateful. When they finally reached the hotel once more things got a little more complicated. Out on the street, her emotions had been tightly controlled, just as they had been when Conway had been present earlier. However, the carefully crafted mask had begun to crack as they rode up to the penthouse, crumbling and falling away completely as they reached her room.

All he could do was watch the exchange between the two women, attempting to hide his shock and surprise behind his own mask of calm nonchalance. When she screamed, it grated on Cal’s ears, drawing a single quirk of his lips and a shuddering sigh, and he hesitated before turning to follow Cassandra out of the bedroom. Carefully closing the door behind them, he gave her a questioning look, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to one side. She merely shook her head slowly as a look of sadness and resignation, almost a mirror for Ms. Petrov’s during their walk home, crossed her face. “Is she always like that?” He asked, settling into place beside the door, crossing his hands in front of his belt.

“It’s not her fault, really. It’s… Well. It’s complicated. I’d best not say anything; Zora wouldn’t appreciate me speaking for her like that.” Her expression turned to concern as a muffled scream bled through the door, and she sighed softly to herself. Cal attempted to sound comforting, though his voice still sounded rough and gravely to his ears,

“Don’t beat yourself up. She didn’t get what she wanted and now she’s pissed about it. That’s not your fault. She’ll get over it, I’m sure.” Looking around, he gave a brief nod towards the seats they had all occupied earlier. “Why don’t you relax? I can handle this. She isn’t going anywhere.”

Cal settled in to wait, confident that soon enough Ms. Petrov would come out of the bedroom, as good as new, with some plan or other for the coming evening. His stomach began to growl and it was only then that he realized how long it had been since his last meal. That would have to wait for another time, though, when things were a little calmer. Thinking of, it sounded as though she might have put herself back together. Whatever it was, exactly, that had her climbing the walls and chomping at the bit to escape, he couldn’t imagine. Clearly Cassandra knew more about it, though she wasn’t willing to say anything to him, but that made a kind of sense; they barely knew each other, after all. Maybe I’ll just go in and ask her myself. A smirk crossed his face as a chuckle escaped, unbidden. Yeah, that’ll go soooo well… Still, she’d quieted down, so perhaps it was time to check on her.

“Miss Petrov?” Knocking on the door drew no response from within. Slowly opening the door, he poked his head through the opening, scanning the room in search of her. “Miss Petrov? Are you alright? May I come in?”

 

[SweetAsSuga]

With eyes that felt as dry and rough as sandpaper, Zora climbed out of the bed and surveyed her image in the guilded mirror above the dresser. Blood-shot eyes, a cherry red nose and tear stained cheeks stared back at her. Her body felt heavy, weighted down with the pressures to appear perfect and always do as she was told. A hot shower was just what she needed to wash away the trails of the day.

Walking into the bathroom, Zora turned the water in the glasspaned shower on as hot as it would go. As the steam began to fill the bathroom she moved back into the bedroom and, standing in front of the closet, unzipped her dress and let it pool at her feet. She unhooked her yellow lace bra and stepped out of the matching panties. Pulling her favorite silk robe, knee-length and a soft lilac purple, from the closet she didn't hear Cal opening the door she was so lost in her thoughts.

“Miss Petrov? Are you alright? May I come in?”

Spinning around, the robe loose around her shoulders, Zora quickly pulled the robe shut, her arms hugged tightly around her waist.

"What the hell are you doing?" She demanded. "Don't you know how to knock you sick bastard. Now get out of here before I tell my fiance that you were spying on me while I was changing."

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

Cal was more than a little unsure as he finally caught sight of the young woman where she stood. He’d begun to wonder and worry, just slightly, at the lack of noise, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting… that. When she turned on him and began verbally lashing him he stood frozen, mouth slightly agape as he continued to stare, watching the flush of anger rise to her face. Two thoughts passed through his mind, then: She’s rather pretty when she’s angry like that… which was followed immediately by a stark impulse to retreat, Oops, big mistake… His jaw worked up and down as he attempted to apologize, however he remained at an utter loss for words.

His palms began to sweat, a cold sinking feeling churning his stomach and chest as he backed up and out of the bedroom as quickly as possible. It closed with an audible click behind him as he clasped his hands and stepped away from the door, resuming his position just beside it. They were certainly making great impressions on each other so far… She’d attempted to escape, to no avail, and he’d looked in to check on her, only to find her almost naked. Still… He couldn’t help fleeting images of her flitting across his mind’s eye, and he shook his head to clear it. Looking around, he noticed Cassandra looking unenthused and uninterested, and Cal hoped that she hadn’t noticed the scene that had just happened.

A few minutes later, his heart rate finally slowing back to something approaching normal, he gazed towards the windows with their breathtaking view of the city below. What must it be like to have the kind of money and influence required for a place like that? What would he do with those kinds of resources? The possibilities ranged on and on, to the point that he could barely list them all. Cal wondered further, what it must be like to have grown up in that setting, being catered to and never wanting for anything. It was with a heavy sigh he drew himself out of the daydream and back down to earth, turning to look towards the doorway again.

Pressing his ear against the door, he listened for some sign of activity from within. Nothing bled through this time, though, everything remaining markedly silent. With a heavy sigh he resumed his position, settling in for what he hoped wouldn’t be too long a wait. Cal wondered what might be happening on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t worth the trouble to find out, especially given her previous reaction…

 

[SweetAsSuga]

"Mr. Conway would like you to join him for dinner tonight." Cassandra said, holding a towel out for Zora as she walked out of the shower, her skin pink from the scalding water.

"Fuck him." Zora muttered, wiping the towel roughly against her skin.

"Now you listen to me, Zora Petrov." Cassandra gripped her arm, her manicured fingers digging into Zora's flesh. "Your father has arranged this marriage and you will not embarrass him by acting like a petulant child. Henry Conway is a decent man and he is obviously smitten with you. You will act like the woman you were raised to be. You will accept Mr. Conway's invitation and you will be nice to him. You will smile and trade pleasant conversation. And, when the day comes, you will marry him and you will sleep with him and you will play the dutiful wife. Do you hear me?"

Zora pulled her arm away from Cassandra's tight grasp. White half-moons marred her skin.

"I hear you." She spat. "But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

Her assistant smiled. "Good. Just see that you play the part or your father will hear of it, and you know what he does to people who disobey him." Cassandra's eyes softened as she surveyed the young woman. "I say this as your friend, Zora. You have been dealt this hand and you must do what you can do play it."

Closing her eyes, Zora breathed in deeply, trying to calm her nerves.

"And don't try to runaway again." Cassandra warned as she laid dresses out on Zora's bed. "Here," she handed one to the young woman, "put this on and we'll fix up your hair."





A few hours later, Zora emerged from her room dressed in a red, knee-length, halter dress that clung to every curve of her body, the v-neck line plunging low and showing off her full breasts. Her hair was piled on top of her head, a few tendrils hanging loose in carefully crafted ringlets. The diamond pendant earrings that graced her ears were a gift from her fiance and sparkled brilliantly. Beside the door stood Cal, still as a statue. She looked him up and down slowly, taking in his well built form. Well, if she had to look at him every day, at least he was attractive.

"C'mon," she said, walking steadily down the hallway, her long, perfectly toned legs carefully accentuated by her black stilettos, "we can't keep my fiance waiting."

 

[TheVoiceWithout]

Cal waited for what felt like an eternity, still as stone, never moving from beside the door. It seemed that his charge was content to hide away within her bedroom, most likely brooding about her foiled attempt at escape earlier, he assumed. The wait continued to stretch, which bothered Cal, though not for the most obvious reasons. He had no problems with his placement, and after his previous career he was no stranger to standing, unwavering, for long periods of time. What bothered him was that he had no contact with the young woman within; he had no idea what she was up to, what she might be plotting or planning, and given the day they’d already had, he was a little nervous.

Some time around the beginning of the second hour he received a text message from Jenkins, who was checking in, or perhaps checking up, on him. *How’s the cake walk?* Cal frowned at the message and considered leaving it unanswered. If they only knew… Sighing softly to himself, he pondered how to respond, eventually going with *All quiet on the western front.* Jenkins might not understand the alliteration or the implication, but it made him smile. Looking around, Cal noticed for the first time how truly quiet and peaceful everything was. Without anyone else around, it was silent and undisturbed and he relished the peace, knowing it would end shortly enough. For that moment, though, he was able to look out the windows, catch fleeting glimpses of birds shooting past as traffic and pedestrians crawled by far below like ants through a nest.

He’d finally adjusted to the peace and quiet when the door all but flew open, Ms. Petrov striding through and giving him a long appraising look. He could feel her eyes roving across him, summing him up, and he stood a little taller and straighter, wondering what exactly she was looking for. At that she moved off with nary a glance back and he fell in step behind her, keeping her within arm’s reach the entire way out and through the elevator ride down. Cal couldn’t help but notice her appearance from where he stood, and despite attempts to monitor their surroundings exclusively, found his eyes being drawn to her again and again. Ms. Petrov was quite beautiful, and for a split second he was jealous of Conway, but then he caught sight of her expression and a corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. He could only imagine what mood she was in, given the tone of voice she’d used, the determined look in her eye and the defiant air about her. Upon reaching the streets they took a car, she spouting some address Cal didn’t recognize, and they were off once more, presumably for a dinner date or something? Whatever it was, it didn’t bode well for Conway. Cal felt a smirk draw across his face which he was helpless to prevent as he imagined the rich and powerful Conway being cowed by the anger of this tiny, yet striking, young thing.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Settling into the limo, Zora crossed her legs and pulled down the hem of her dress as it rode a little to far up her thighs. Cal got in behind her, sitting on the seat facing her. With arms crossed defensively, Zora surveyed him, taking in the way his suit jacket fit perfectly over his broad shoulders.

They rode in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before the driver rolled down the partition separating the front and back of the limo.

"My apologies, Ms. Petrov," he said with a thick Brooklyn accent, "there's construction up ahead and traffic is at a stand still. We might be sitting here awhile, I'll call Mr. Conway and let him know you are going to be late."

"God, I hate this city." Zora muttered as the partition rolled back up. Casting a look out the window she sighed heavily. "At least it gives me awhile before I have to entertain that damn fossil." She shot a look to Cal. "You're awful quiet," she snapped, "tell me, what do you think of my fiance?" Zora didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in her voice as she uttered the word fiance. "God, I can't believe my father is making me marry him. The man is practically a living corpse, how can I ever be happy with someone I'm being forced to marry."