Читать книгу Wicked Wives - Anna-Lou Weatherley - Страница 19

Tess woke with a heart-stopping start, and for the briefest moment felt a sense of relief as she realised she was alone. But it was a fleeting state, and was soon replaced by a rod of ice-cold fear as it rapidly dawned upon her that she was not in her own bed. Her head was audibly pounding, a sickening, resounding throb either side of her temporal lobes, causing her vision to blur and the nausea in her belly to instantly rise to her throat.

Disorientated, she made to stand. It was then she felt the searing pain shoot through her body, sharp as a splintered arrow. Groaning, her joints felt brittle as glass, like her bones were about to shatter with her weight upon them and the soreness she felt down there caused her to wince aloud in pain. She felt as if she’d been hit by a truck and dragged for ten miles. Tess sat back down onto the bed and it was only then she realised that she was completely naked. Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was going on? Gripped by fear and panic, she hurriedly covered her modesty with a white bed sheet, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to piece her shot-to-shit memory back together again. The room was unrecognisable; rudimentary bare white walls and terracotta tiles, a double bed with a pair of small wooden tables either side of it, and a tiny shuttered window allowing only the thinnest sliver of sunlight to creep into the darkened room. She glanced at one of the tables in search of something to drink, her thirst was such now that she felt at the point of collapse, and was horrified to see that among the discarded empty bottles and wine glasses there was an assortment of sex toys; ugly, giant, life-like dildos staring back at her in an array of different shapes and sizes and colours. Rubbing her temples in angry frustration, she forced back tears as she desperately tried to locate her clothes, her bag, her phone, anything … And then she remembered; oh my God! Allegra! She was sure she had been with her friend the previous evening, but where the fuck was she now? And why was she here, in this room, naked and alone? It was as if someone had torn a page from her memory; it was all just a gaping black hole, and she had a gut-sickening feeling it wasn’t something she’d want to put on a postcard to her parents back home. Jesus, what the fuck had she done?

Burying her head despairingly in her hands, Tess heard voices approaching and instinctively threw herself back down onto the bed and feigned sleep.

‘Jesus, man,’ a male voice said. ‘She’s still sleeping … exactly how much of that shit did you give her last night?’

‘Too fucking much, probably,’ a gruff voice shot back. It sounded familiar, though she did not know why. ‘She’ll wake with one motherfucker of a headache, I can tell you that.’

‘And the rest …’

‘I told you I’d found us a wild one didn’t I?’ He sounded pleased with himself. ‘They’re all the same those posh chicks … filthy little bitches, up for anything. All that dough corrupts them you know … turns them from convent schoolgirls into game little whores. I have to say though; this one gave a pretty special performance last night.’

The pair of them gave a chuckle that made Tess want to throw up. She could sense their presence from underneath the thin bed sheet and could hardly breathe through her terror.

Don’t panic. Stay calm.

‘You think we’ll make top dollar on that video then … I mean, everyone loves to watch a good roasting don’t they …?’

Tears were escaping the corners of Tess’s eyes now. They’ll be gone in a minute she reassured herself. Then you can get your stuff and get the fuck out of here, fly home and forget any of this shit ever happened, right? Only she didn’t need to forget because she couldn’t actually remember in the first place, and judging by what she was hearing, it was probably just as well.

‘Nah, I’ve got something better in mind for this one,’ the familiar voice said. ‘I did some research, found out who she is …’

‘What, is she, like, famous or something?’

‘Her pops is none other than Vincent Scott my friend …’ the voice sounded triumphant.

‘Vincent Scott?’

‘Fuck me, Fabrizio, anyone would think you lived in a fucking cave under the sea. Vincent Scott … of Great Scott Properties,’ Tess heard the antagonism in his voice and it scared her. They knew her father’s name … this was bad; really fucking bad.

There was a slight pause.

‘And?’

‘And you fucking prick, he’s a billionaire. One of the richest dudes in the whole of fucking Europe!’

The other voice began to laugh then, a horrible manic chuckle that suggested the owner was a little unhinged.

‘Bingo!’ it said.

‘Bingo indeed my brother; bingo in-fucking-deed.’