Introduction
Yalda, una joven estudiante universitaria en apuros con un pasado oscuro, se encuentra teniendo una aventura de una noche con un hombre dominante que resulta ser uno de los hombres más ricos e influyentes del continente. Desesperada por una vida mejor, acepta su oferta de ser su prostituta exclusiva sin condiciones, y cuatro años después, se encuentra trabajando como su secretaria, aún sujeta al contrato. Pronto se da cuenta de que su apego emocional a él no le traerá más que dolor y miseria, y pide que se rescinda el contrato. Ella no sabe que, al igual que ella, él también tuvo un pasado oscuro, uno que ha influido en su interés por ella desde el principio.
¿Qué pasa cuando se niega a dejarla ir?
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RavenSage
Chapter 1
El agua tibia de la ducha caía sobre el cuerpo exhausto de Yalda casi de manera sensual; parecía recorrer cada curva y borde. El lujoso baño estaba lleno de vapor después de más de treinta minutos de uso, pero a ella no parecía importarle, o al menos no parecía notarlo.
Uno pensaría que estaba recordando los placenteros acontecimientos de la noche anterior; cuerpos sudorosos moviéndose como uno solo, gritos sensuales rebotando en las paredes de su dormitorio, sus dedos aplicando la cantidad justa de presión en su garganta.
Sin embargo, sus pensamientos se habían desviado hacia el principio. Su cerebro le recordaba una vez más cómo había comenzado todo; cuán joven, estúpida e imprudente había sido. O tal vez no había sido estúpida; tal vez solo había estado desesperada.
Había sido hace cuatro años; estaba en la universidad entonces. Habiendo perdido a sus padres durante su adolescencia, se había visto obligada a vivir con parientes lejanos, que eran casi abusivos. Como era de esperar, los dejó una vez que tuvo la edad suficiente y estaba en la universidad.
Los primeros dos años en la universidad parecían haber sido los más difíciles para ella en ese momento. Estaba desesperada, luchando con trabajos a tiempo parcial y estudiando solo para ganar lo suficiente para mantenerse.
Y, por supuesto, de vez en cuando, necesitaba desahogarse.
Sus raíces del Medio Oriente hacían que su belleza destacara la mayoría de las veces, desde su piel oliva hasta su cabello negro, lleno y ondulado, que caía graciosamente por su espalda, y su figura delgada pero curvilínea. Su apariencia atraía a los chicos, y la mayoría de las veces, la invitaban a sus fiestas.
Había sido una fiesta de fraternidad; aún podía recordar cómo el aire olía a cigarrillos, alcohol, sudor y colonia barata. No le había importado nada de eso; simplemente se había dejado llevar por el momento mientras movía sus caderas curvilíneas al ritmo de los beats que sonaban sin piedad.
El plan había sido simple; se emborracharía, luego tendría sexo, y pasaría el día siguiente cuidando una resaca. Y cuando todo estuviera dicho y hecho, volvería a su vida de lucha.
Sin embargo, una chica se le había acercado. Parecía como cualquier otra chica alrededor; llevaba un vestido provocativo, tenía toneladas de piercings, mechas teñidas en su cabello y tacones lo suficientemente altos como para compensar su altura de 1.42 metros.
—¿Qué tal? —le había dicho.
Y tal vez si no hubiera estado un poco mareada, habría notado que, a diferencia de todos los demás, su aliento no olía a alcohol ni a cigarrillos.
Sus llamativos ojos verdes habían recorrido su figura casi con aprecio, y había sonreído.
—¿Qué haces esta noche? —le había preguntado.
Por supuesto, Yalda había sacudido la cabeza y estaba a punto de decirle que tenía la intención de acostarse con alguien esa noche, pero no con una chica tan atractiva como ella. Pero no había tenido la oportunidad de responder antes de que ella hablara de nuevo.
—Podrías ganar mucho dinero esta noche, ¿sabes? —le había dicho—. Estoy hablando de mucho dinero aquí.
Eso la había despertado de inmediato. Tenía toda su atención.
—¿Qué tengo que hacer? —le había preguntado.
La chica se había encogido de hombros como si no fuera nada en absoluto.
—Deja esta fiesta aburrida y ven conmigo —respondió simplemente.
Yalda arqueó una ceja con sospecha.
—¿Y cómo sé que no me vas a matar si te sigo? —le preguntó.
Nunca se podía ser demasiado cuidadoso. Después de todo, cosas terribles sucedían todos los días.
—Supongo que nunca lo sabrás hasta que vengas conmigo.
Había algo en ella, algo que le decía a Yalda que era real. Tal vez era su arrogancia, o tal vez era el aburrimiento en sus ojos; era casi como si no pudiera esperar a terminar con esto.
Asintió antes de que sus pensamientos racionales pudieran detenerla.
—Está bien entonces —dijo.
La siguió fuera de la casa abarrotada hacia la fresca noche, y al otro lado de la calle había un SUV negro estacionado; era tan elegante que casi se mezclaba con la oscuridad.
Su corazón latía con fuerza mientras se subía al SUV, pero se aseguró a sí misma que todo saldría bien, y si no, terminaría en las noticias como esas víctimas de asalto y asesinato. Después de todo, no tenía nada que perder.
Se repitió eso una y otra vez. Y se compuso mientras la chica la llevaba a un edificio lujoso. Fueron recibidas por una joven elegante que parecía muy profesional y seria. Estaba tan fascinada por el lujo que la rodeaba que no notó cuando la chica se fue.
—Por aquí —dijo la mujer, justo cuando se dio la vuelta y comenzó a dirigirse hacia el ascensor.
Volvió en sí y se apresuró a seguirla tan rápido como sus tacones se lo permitieron. Y aunque su corazón seguía latiendo con fuerza, se mantuvo tranquila mientras el ascensor las llevaba suavemente al último piso; un ático.
Su corazón cayó al fondo de su estómago cuando el ascensor se detuvo, la puerta se abrió con un suave ping, y la mujer salió elegantemente.
Entraron en el ático, y allí, un hombre con unos devastadoramente llamativos ojos grises estaba sentado en un sillón de cuero negro observando su entrada. Su mirada despectiva recorrió su figura lentamente antes de dirigirse a la mujer.
—¿Es de su agrado, señor? —le preguntó.
No se había dado cuenta de que su respiración había comenzado a fallar. Se quedó allí mirándolo, absorbiendo su apariencia que parecía demasiado buena para ser verdad; desde su cabello oscuro y despeinado hasta su piel pálida y sus muy atractivas facciones. Puede que estuviera sentado, pero podía decir que era un hombre alto, delgado, sí, pero bien formado.
No parecía tener más de treinta años. Parecía rico. Parecía... poderoso.
—Servirá —respondió.
Su voz era suave y clara. Y había una elocuencia en la forma en que hablaba; como un hombre acostumbrado a hablar y que la gente lo escuchara, no solo escuchara, sino que se aferrara a cada palabra que decía.
—Entonces me retiro ahora —dijo la mujer—. Que tenga una buena noche.
Él simplemente asintió.
Y ella se quedó allí, su respiración se volvió superficial y casi inexistente. Su corazón comenzó a latir aún más fuerte, y su cuerpo comenzó a temblar ligeramente.
El sonido del ascensor cerrándose silenciosamente le dijo que se había quedado sola con él. Y por alguna razón, la zona lujuriosa entre sus muslos hormigueaba en anticipación.
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