Page 20 of Warlord’s Empire

Nikka made her way quickly to the door, her hand on the knob as Saskia asked, “How did you get into my contacts? My phone is password protected.” Nikka left without answering, closing the door softly.

“Another day, another prison,” Saskia muttered, walking tiredly to the bed.

She kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the mattress, groaning as the plush quilt enveloped her, the pillows beneath her head as soft as clouds. She lifted her phone, opening it and going to her contacts. She quickly found Nikka’s information, then scrolled to discover Radik’s number had been added too.

They’d invaded her privacy. She wanted to be mad… was mad… but also, so, so tired.

She should call Jozef.

She brought up his contact, but before she could call him, her eyes closed and she decided to rest for a minute first.

Chapter Nine

“Good evening, Ms. Koba.” Nikka’s voice woke Saskia from a deep slumber. She sat up as Nikka placed a box on the end of the bed. “Dinner is in half an hour. I’ll return to take you when you’re ready.”

“Th-thank you,” Saskia croaked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Noticing a glass of water on the bedside table, she snatched it up and drank thirstily.

The door closed behind Nikka and Saskia reached for the package she had placed on the bed. It was an outfit, not one from her suitcase, though it could have been it was so similar in style to what she regularly wore.

A laugh bubbled up her throat as she realized she was holding a pair of high-quality jeans and a T-shirt with cartoon TV characters, Rick and Morty, on it. “Radik, you stalker,” she murmured. “Points for paying attention, I guess.” Pushing off the bed, she looked around for a washroom.

The bathtub-pool was open to the rest of the room, but given Nikka’s tendency toward walking in without knocking, Saskia hoped the toilet was more private.

She quickly discovered another nearly invisible door in the wallpaper that opened to a washroom with a sink, toilet and shower. “Oh yes,” she breathed, turning the knobs on the shower to hot. She smiled, noting brand new bottles of her special curly-hair shampoo and conditioner as well as her preferred brand of body wash.

After a quick shower, she felt more human, more able to face the trials ahead. Namely, convincing Radik that he needed to end this game and send her home before her family figured out where she went and who took her.

She dressed in the jeans and T-shirt provided. Both fit perfectly, of course. Radik was a man of details.

She arranged her hair as best she could, digging through her toiletry kit for hairpins to tame the mass of wild curls. It was an impossible task; one she was convinced would continue until the day she died. Or all her hair fell out.

What she would have done for Leeza’s gorgeous mane of long, smooth chestnut hair over this crazy mess.

A longing for her sister punched her in her chest and she forgot everything except the cell phone Nikka gave her. Rushing to the bedside table, she snatched it up, quickly scrolling to Leeza’s number.

She hit the dial button and pressed it to her ear, but nothing happened. She checked the battery, but it was fully charged. “Why won’t you work?”

A knock sounded at her door and seconds later, Nikka entered.

“So, you can knock,” Saskia muttered, then louder. “Why can’t I make calls with my phone?”

Nikka stood politely next to the door, her gaze on the wall behind Saskia. “You can make calls to people inside this compound. It’s time for dinner, if you would like to follow me.”

Saskia tossed her phone on the bed. “Fucking useless.” Her temper rose as she followed Nikka down the hallway, stewing over her phone. Why give it to her if it didn’t work?

They descended to the first floor where she noted a kitchen and dining room earlier when Radik was showing her around, but instead Nikka took her past the dining room and out a set of doors which were standing open.

Saskia’s annoyance was forgotten as she stepped outside, taking in the garden of lush vegetation glittering with strands of lights. She followed a tiled mosaic path through the greenery, punctuated by splashes of colourful flowers, until she found a table and chairs. Past the table stood her host, Radik, wearing a suit that was clearly designed for his massive frame. His muscles stretched the seams, but the fabric held, showing him off to perfection.

Saskia couldn’t help but grin at the juxtaposition in their outfits. He allowed her the comfort of jeans and a T-shirt but subjected himself to the confines of a suit, probably to impress her. “How am I supposed to be mad at you?” She skirted the table to join him where he stood at the edge of the garden.

Radik watched her approach, his dark eyes moving down her body. “Anger is the last thing I want you to feel for me.”

Saskia gazed out past the garden patio to the edge of the compound and beyond to the Congolese jungle valley. It looked like a living carpet of green as the sun set behind the mountains, bathing the area in red, pink and orange. It was spectacular and she couldn’t truly say she was sorry to be here for this moment. He didn’t need to know that though. “Yet you brought me here against my will.” She turned narrowed eyes on him. “You refuse to let me go and you gave me a phone that doesn’t work.”

“It works,” he countered. “You can contact anyone inside the compound, but you cannot make or accept calls beyond these walls.”

Saskia’s eyes traced the large concrete walls he spoke of. They were vast, taller even than the Koba estate. Easily the ugliest part of Radik’s compound.