Five days after the occurrence, Pamela stood before the foot-length mirror in her room, appreciating her look. She was attending a gala with, wait for it – Devlin – one she didn't want to attend but had no choice because he called the shots.

If she refused, he could burn her dad's body or do something worse. She wondered how he was keeping the body from decaying –  the body might be decaying and rotting already, who knows? It disturbed her.

"You're so beautiful honey," Dorothea said smiling at Pamela with adoration and pride, bringing Pamela out of her depressing thoughts.

Yes, Dorothea was with her. She was brought to the safehouse the same day Cody was sent to bring her. Pamela had hugged her mom in relief, grateful she was fine.

Dorothea had related how she had lived in fear after Pamela was taken. She had released all the workers to go back to their families with huge compensation, and apart from the fear of sleeping alone, she had been fine. That had been a great relief to Pamela.

What hadn't been a relief though, but had instead been strange, was that when her mother had been brought to the house and had seen Devlin, she had hugged him. The thought of it still set her teeth on edge. Why would she hug him? Were they familiar with each other, and if so, why hadn't she seen him around before? What was the secret between Devlin and her mother? Could he be the reason she divorced her father? It was unimaginable.

"Pammy?" Dorothea caressed her hand. "What are you overthinking? You look stunning."

Pamela smiled. "Thank you."

"Is something bugging you?"

She nodded. "I don't know if I'll be able to get along with that man."

"Oh, yes you will." Her mother said waving off her concern. "You'll be totally fine with him, he's a good boy."

"What? Good? That's the last thing I think of him."

Dorothea laughed at the expression on her daughter's face. "He's just being that way because of the circumstances."

"Like?" Pamela prompted.

"You'll know when the time is right."

Pamela had to will herself to be calm. She was in danger and the only thing her mom could offer was cryptic quotes.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Her mom stood to answer it. Pamela wanted to turn her head to look at the person but couldn't because the makeup artist was working on her face and needed her head still. But curiosity ate away at her and she turned her head regardless and saw that it was Cody.

Her mom shut the door after he left. "He said it's getting late and we should round off."

"Okay," Pamela said turning back to her previous position, trying to hide her disappointment. Had she expected Devlin? Of course not. She didn't expect him to come down to her room himself to play the errand boy.

She smile apologetically at the make-up artist and the woman smiled back at her and proceeded. Pamela had a feeling the woman wouldn't mind being interrupted. Not if she wanted to leave with her coffers full and her head intact.

When Devlin told her over breakfast – yes, she started dining with him since her mother arrived – that she would be accompanying him to a yearly gala he attended, she'd looked at him like he was mad. Was that why she was in his house? To be an escort?

"I will not be attending." She'd said grimly.

He took a sip of water. "It's not up for debate."

"You will have to drag me out of here because I repeat, I will not be attending."

"Come on, honey. You should go."

"Stay out of this, Mom. The ass-kissing repels me."

"You will be going and that's final."

Feeling like she was in a losing battle, she said she didn't have what to wear and that she had a personal make-up artist and hairdresser whom she used but wouldn't be able to attend to her because she was, well, in a prison.

He did not reply to her that morning but had left the table to receive a phone call and had not returned. That was three days ago.

Today which was the said gala day, she'd woken up hoping she wouldn't go out with him because he'd not mentioned it again, but to her horror, she'd met a very breathtaking Givenchy dress and a professional team of hair and makeup artistes waiting for her.

Soon, her look was completed. She wore a flowing, body-hugging evening dress with an asymmetrical hem and a leg slit. And when she stood to check out her complete look in the mirror, she admitted that she looked stunning.

"I look different. The makeup is intense." Pamela said with a laugh.

"Typically, a gala event calls for more dramatic make-up than you wear on a typical day. One reason is that lighting is often subdued and galas are at night." The woman explained, standing beside her and handing her a clutch purse.

"Clutches are the standard informal handbags. Larger handbags or "mommy purses" are considered too informal."

She didn't need an explanation, but okay.

She donned a pair of high-heeled satin shoes. It was an open-toed one with straps. The color of the shoe complimented the color of her gown.

The hairstylist used a straightener to make her tresses silky smooth, then used a curling iron and styling products to create large, voluminous curls that fell around her hair in lush waves. It was beautiful.

"You look stunning." Her mom gushed. "Take it easy on the men."

Pamela laughed.

Susan complimented her too and Pamela started to feel much better about her outing. When she stepped from her room, two guards were waiting to escort her to her ride and although they were formal, they smiled kindly at her. She tried to make conversation with them but they politely let it die as if they had been warned to steer clear of her. It was as if they were robots and being formal and obedient to the core had been programmed into their systems.

When they got to the parking lot that donned different cars – mostly black vans and heavily tinted cars, Devlin was waiting, his back to her, while Cody was pacing. When he spotted her, he stopped.

"She's here, sir."

Pamela watched Devlin's reaction as carefully as one would watch a baby taking his first steps. His eyes flickered over her body, scanning her from head to toe, in the most sexual of ways, albeit unintentionally, and that made her feel uncomfortable.

When his eyes met hers, they were neutral. But were those specks of admiration – perhaps something more – in those cold eyes?

"What took you so long?" He asked with a scowl.

"Do I have to answer that?" She snapped.

He heaved a disgruntled sigh. "Get in."

She thanked Cody who held open the door for her to sit at the back of the car with Devlin. She sat close to her side of the door, trying to ignore the sadness that was gnawing at her insides. The black vans that were parked in the lot reminded her of the reason she was here and it dampened her spirits.

She suddenly didn't feel beautiful anymore. The make-up and hair do and expensive clothing started to feel like a burden and she developed a sudden urge to take them off and put on pajamas and go to bed.

Devlin cleared his throat and her eyes snapped up to him. He was looking out the window of his door and somehow, he looked handsome, probably more if he could smile at that moment. He was wearing a full tuxedo of high quality, very expensive. The jacket he wore was a midnight blue wool jacket, double-breasted cut with a traditional bow tie that capped off the look.

There was a thin gold bracelet on his right wrist that had an almost invincible initial that she couldn't make out, while his gold watch was on the left wrist. The bracelet was not proper for an official function, but it must mean a lot for him to still wear it. It made Pamela wonder if there was a softer side to him or even a weak side. When she looked up at his face again, their eyes met.

She looked away in embarrassment. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was developing Stockholm's syndrome. How cliché would that be?

"So, uh, where are we going?"

"When we get there, you'll see." He replied coldly.

"Why are you shutting me out? I'm trying to make this work, the least you owe me is decent conversation. You were nice to me and my mom the last time we saw you, why are you different now? Do have anger issues or unhealthy mood swings?"

"Shut. Up." He said through gritted teeth. "Or I'm going to kick you out."

Pamela sighed and faced the window, peeved. She took deep breaths and willed herself to be calm. She will not let him worsen her already dour mood. She got into this for her dad and would see it through to the end. She made a mental note to ask, after the gala, when the deal was ending so she could get him out of her life for good.

The ride was long, boring, and unbearably quiet. Pamela kept staring at rolls and rolls of green land and mountains. Later, they entered civilization and the car came to a halt.

"We're here." Cody's said, getting out of the car.

Devlin stepped out, rounded the car, and opened the door for Pamela while Cody handed the keys to a valet. People were not packed outside as one would expect of a function. She began to wonder if there was a function but as they got nearer, she began to make out subdued sounds of soft music. There was only one explanation as to why the outside was empty but had only valets and heavy security – it was a private party.

Devlin offered her his arm and she took it, trying to hide her surprise. Firstly, he opened the door for her, and now this. His mood swings were top-notch.

As they entered the large and glamourously decorated hall, Pamela felt as though all eyes were on them. There were a few people in flashing gowns and suits. Some were moving slowly in tune with the music, some were talking by the bar, and some were drinking. People were doing their own thing, but she still felt like the center of attention.

"Great, we're late." She heard Devlin mutter and before she could work up a reply, he asked, "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks."

He shrugged, let go of her arm, and took a drink from a passing tray.

"Devlin!"

Devlin and Pamela turned to see a middle-aged man in a black suit walking toward them with so much happiness and warmth in his smile.

"Mr. Fener," Devlin acknowledged as they shook hands.

"Thank you for being here, I am very grateful."

"My pleasure."

His eyes flickered towards Pamela. "Miss King," He took her hands in his and Pamela let him. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

She gave Devlin an unsure look but smiled at the kind man. "Thank you."

"By the way, I offer my sincere condolences to you about your father's passing. It's really sad."

A tight knot formed in Pamela's throat and she swallowed to push it away. It stubbornly remained there and so she smiled at him instead of thanking him. She was afraid her voice might come out as a strangled howl.

"When is the funeral? Speaking of funerals I heard your house was attacked are you – "

"Alright, Mr. Fener," Devlin interrupted, holding the man by the arm. "I think we need to go to your office so I can offer my donations. How does that sound?" He downed his drink in one swallow and placed the empty glass on a tabletop.

"Brilliant," Mr. Fener said with a grin then looked at Pamela with a kind smile. "Excuse me, Miss."

Pamela nodded at him and offered him a wobbly smile, grateful that Devlin had stopped him from reopening her wounds. The two men had not taken a few steps when someone else called for Devlin. He stopped and turned to look at the person and he groaned, his whole expression turning sour but Pamela could detect he didn't mean it.

"Excuse me," He unapologetically said to Mr. Fener, the relief of getting rid of him evident on his face as he walked towards the dark-haired man who was grinning from ear to ear at him.

"What are you doing here Peter?" He asked dryly.

"Nice to see you too, cousin." They hugged and slapped each other's backs.

Peter's eyes roamed toward Pamela. He smiled brightly at her and stretched his hand out to her. "I always look forward to whom Devlin brings as his date every year, and I must admit that this year is exceptional. It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss King."

Pamela smiled warmly, placing her hand on his. "The pleasure is mine."

"Excuse me," Devlin said, leaving to go meet Cody who was standing by the entrance and had called for him. She watched from the corner of her eyes as he stepped out with Cody.

"I'm Peter," the young man said, bringing her to the present. "But my friends call me Pete. You can too, because you're beautiful – I don't deal with ugly people."

Pamela laughed. "Noted." She liked Peter already. "I'm curious, how do you know me? I don't remember ever meeting you."

"I knew your dad, God rest his soul." He did the cross sign. "He spoke about you a lot."

"Did Devlin know my dad too?"

"Yes. Very well."

Then he wouldn't keep his body from me, would he? He wouldn't attack my house, would he? Pamela wanted to ask these questions but decided not to.

The day wasn't going as bad as she'd envisioned. She found herself loving the music and the friendly conversation she was having with Peter. They talked about everything from the weather to the gala to how nice the decoration was. As they talked, she mentally watched out for Devlin and when he would be back.

Peter's phone rang and when he excused herself to take it, she sighed as she was now left alone. In no mood to mingle with anyone else because she was forced here in the first place, she made her way to the bar, just to sit and watch the crowd. She sat and politely declined the drink the barman was about to pour her.

"Pamela." A voice said beside her.

Pamela froze as she tried to place the voice. Who could it be? Who else knew her here? How much more people did her dad tell about her?

"Pamela King." The person said again.

Pamela held her breath. The voice sounded very familiar, and as she turned around to look at the person, she silently prayed it was not who she thought it was.

But it was anyway.

Marcel.

~

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