Yes, Mistress!

Chapter 8: Take it or Leave it

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Siegfried asked, a bit bothered, “Is the detour necessary, Ms. Kir?” 

“Don’t you question me.” 

Each time Cattleya had had a few minutes of respite during the day, a vivid image of the matchmaker would secretly creep on her mind, distracting and disturbing her. She recalled how she had looked on her knees, with her hands restrained, her head bowed. Sweet soumission. 

It was beautiful, raw, sexy… But when she had seen the tears in her pretty hazel eyes, she had not been able to shake the way she had felt. The only reason a woman should cry in her presence was due to pleasure. Not pain. And definitely not fear.

Instead of tending to her, she had abandoned her without a care, her rational business mind, prioritizing the charity event. The moment she had stepped into the car, she had realized too late, how cruel she had been towards her.

She might be a ruthless person but above all, she was a gentlewoman and she wouldn’t have her peace of mind until she made sure that the girl was alright. She reached by her side, grabbed a black file, shuffled through the pages, feeling annoyed at the volume. She didn’t hide her displeasure, “I asked for a summary. Not for the story of her whole life.”

Siegfried whined, “Why are you blaming me? Blame Dana.”

When his boss viciously stared at him, he rolled his eyes, took out his tablet, searched for a summarized background check on Scarlett Sinclair in their databases and he handed the device to her. It took him a mere three minutes.

Cattleya quickly read through the points, analyzing them. 23 years old. Eldest daughter of her family. Dropped out half-way through her Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. Father is out of the picture. She used to live with her mother and two siblings before moving out. She has worked several part-time jobs from receptionist to cashier to waitress at cafés. That was until she recently joined the matchmaking business TheOne for a little under two years.

There was nothing interesting in there. And yet…

“You look… entertained?” Siegfried hesitantly asked, seeing that peculiar gleam in her eyes. The kind of look she had when she was up to no good. It always made him tense. The things this woman could do…

“I’m just wondering how much threatening a matchmaker could be to me.”

He grimaced, finding that laughable, “She’s not a threat, Cattleya.”

She smiled slowly, handing him back the tablet, “Earlier, I confirmed with a top-notch jeweler. The ring signet is genuine and it is impossible to forge. It only means one thing, Siegfried. Tell me.”

Damn it. Why did she have to put him through that mental torture? Unlike her, he wasn’t a mastermind. He thought hard, piecing the fragments of information together. He thought about her family, about her wealth and power, about her connections, about why she needed such a tight security… It was his job to know enough about her, enough to protect her life.

After a few painful minutes, he finally said, breaking the infernal silence, “If the ring is genuine, it means… someone out there is masquerading as your father.”

She chuckled mockingly, “Took you long enough.”

It didn’t make sense. “Why would a random stranger be so interested in getting you married? And how come he's in possession of the ring?”

She looked outside her window, as a light drizzle of rain started to fall, “For once… I don’t have the slightest idea. Isn’t it exciting?” She said in a flat tone.

He didn’t like this. This was too dangerous to let it be. “Our only lead right now is the matchmaker. Give me the order and I shall bring her in for an interrogation.”

She brushed him off, berating him, “No. She's mine to deal with. Your men did enough like that. I always tell you to be a better judge of a situation. It was clear she meant no harm.”

Siegfried solemnly laced his fingers together, recalling the incident of this morning, “We can never know, Cattleya. Anything can happen in a split second. You, out of all people, should know that.”

The chauffeur's voice echoed in the passenger compartment as the Maybach slowed down, “I believe we have reached, miss.” She looked outside, examining the small residential building, “What’s her flat number?” 

Siegfried answered, “Fourth floor. Second.” He loosened his tie, “I believe this is a bad idea. We shouldn’t disregard her. She might be a threat… and I would like you to think of the consequences before you do anything.”

She scoffed, disdained by his implication, “Before I do anything? Who do you take me for?” 

He cleared his voice, his face turning red, “With all due respect, we both know you have a soft spot for hot headed women like her.” He grabbed the umbrella, stepped outside, holding the door open for her.

She narrowed her eyes, “I don’t have a soft spot for anyone.” She took hold of a bottle of wine which was neatly tied in a red ribbon and then stepped out as he opened the black umbrella above their head.

He deliberately coughed, calling her out, “Not even for Megan Brooks?”

She frowned, “She’s an exception.”

“Or Kassandra York?”

At the mention of the names of the two women she cared for the most in this world, she irately said, “One more word and you’re fired.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Her doorbell rang and Scarlett stirred on the couch, still feeling sleepy. She called out after a few seconds, realizing it was the delivery guy. “Come in.” The door opened with a creak and she heard the steps that clacked right after, coming closer and closer. Heels? She mumbled, lazily raising one arm, making directions with her hand, “Just leave the sushi here. Thanks.”

Cattleya gazed at the form who was cocooned in that blanket on the settee. Fancy letting people in here without a care. “I don’t have sushi… but I do have wine if that’s any consolation.”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Scarlett gasped, flinging the blanket off her face, propping herself slightly up, blinking at her, wondering if the heiress was actually standing right there, in her living room. It couldn’t be! Her voice croaked as she sat up properly, exclaiming, “What are you doing here?!” 

She held her breath when Cattleya’s gaze bored through hers as she lowered the bottle of wine on the small table. This definitely wasn’t all in her imagination. The woman was still wearing the sexy burgundy suit of this morning, still looked as sophisticated as she had seen her. Her fashion style really was impeccable. Did she come here directly from the office? She wished her mind wouldn’t feel so fuzzy. Damn it.

She eyed the expensive wine and demanded, arching an eyebrow, not believing a single second of this charade, “No. How the hell do you know where I live?!”

There was a tint of amusement in the woman’s eyes, “That’s not a question you ask someone of my calibre. Mmh, what do we have here?” Her gaze dropped to the messy pile of business and fashion magazines on the table, all featuring her on the covers. Scarlett paled, “It’s nothing!”

“This doesn’t look like nothing.” Cattleya taunted, flicking the magazines aside, perusing on the bold titles which flattered her. Vogue. Time. Forbes. Fortune. And what not. A particular tabloid caught her attention and she mused, raising it up, “If I didn’t know better, Ms. Sinclair, I would say you’re a stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker!” Scarlett defensively said, “It’s just research!” When Cattleya flipped the tabloid around, showing it to her, she almost wanted to die at the bright pink title; Hot tips to woo America’s sexiest bachelorette.

She teased, “Not a stalker, you said?”

Scarlett blushed furiously, snapping at her, “Don’t touch my stuff! I’m a matchmaker! It’s all for… for work!” She was about to get up but the acute pain she felt in her ankle weighed her down, making her sit still.

“For work, mmh?” Cattleya laughed at the girl’s visible embarrassment, dropping it back to the table. She looked around the apartment, taking in the surrounding. It was small, a mess in terms of design with all those random decorative trinkets lying around. She strolled inside, her eyes trailing on the small bookshelf, taking in the excessive amount of romance stories.

Her attention then got caught at the taped landscape photos arranged into a neat grid on the wall. She approached them. They were captivating, artistic and full of life and vibrant colors. She admired them, appreciating how pleasing they were to the eyes. There was so much she could do with creative people. So much to explore and unravel about them.

“Are you here to apologize to me?”

“No. You got what you deserved. I told you I’m not interested in your services.” 

Scarlett winced at her response, having expected no less from her. She smoothed the blanket over her laps. “Is that why your bodyguards pounced at me? Because you told them that I was trivial.”

When she sensed her nervousness and heard the tremors in her voice, Cattleya turned around. She felt herself wondering what was affecting the woman; the callousness of her bodyguards or… the fact that she knew she considered her trivial.

Her mind went back to the image of how she had looked on her knees. Her eyes darkened, feeling the warm tingle on her wrist where she had gripped her. “No one lays a hand on me, not without my permission.”

Scarlett scowled at her, not holding back her anger, “I had guns to my head. Guns! They were aggressive. You don’t see other celebrities walking around with a dozen of those guys, assaulting any person who touches you!”

“So you wanted to touch me?”

As those words left her mouth, Scarlett shuddered. There was something she couldn’t place behind the heiress’ calm demeanor and her husky, sensual voice. The way she said it… It implied things she dared not imagine. 

“I—” She tentatively said, “…I wanted to see you.”

“Kneeling at my feet, begging for attention like that… you certainly got my interest, sweetheart.”

Heat flared up her cheeks. How dare she! Scarlett clenched her teeth, her nails digging in her palms, feeling the humiliation all over again. She burst out, spitting the words viciously, “You’re nothing but an arrogant… self-conceited… insensitive bitc—” She gasped, clamping her hands on her own mouth, frantically muffling the insult before she could say it out loud.

She breathed hard, her chest heaving in panic as she became flustered under the piercing cold gaze. She felt small suddenly. There was nothing kind in her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to look away but she couldn’t. Not when the billionairess was judging her so severely, stripping away all her defenses in that hard stare.

She bit her lips, the silence killing her. She opened her mouth to speak again, to apologize, to say anything to salvage her dignity but only a low whimper of distress escaped.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with, don’t you?” Cattleya calmly said, unfazed. Devious thoughts lingered in her mind. She imagined sliding a ball gag in that pretty mouth of hers, bending her over that couch’s armrest and giving her ass a good paddling till it became red. She would spank her till sweet cries spilt from her lips and she begged her for mercy.

She studied her face, pondering about her fate, “I could do so many things right now. I could evict you... I could fire you… I could even own you… But that wouldn’t be very nice of me, mh?”

Scarlett held her breath. Own? As in… what? She stared into the dark shades of green, searching for the answers, her body tingling, burning up at the thought. She knew those answers were twisted. Her heart thumped louder and louder. She could feel it. Own… Such a dangerous word. She gazed at her cherry red lips. They looked so inviting… so kissable…

She realized the heiress was watching her as intently and it knocked her back to reality. She felt caught but above all, she felt threatened. And it was clear Cattleya Kir wasn’t even trying right now. She refused to be intimidated by her. Not in her own apartment!

Cattleya smiled slowly, enjoying how the girl’s face contorted with confusion, unbridled lust and dread. How adorable. Siegfried might have been initially right. She was too innocent to pose any significant threats to her.

“Well, consider the wine as a gift in exchange for the box of macarons. We are quit now. It was a pleasure, Ms. Sinclair.”

When the heiress began walking away from her, something clenched in Scarlett’s stomach. She was doing that again. Disregarding her as if she was nothing. She hated being ignored. What would it take to get her attention? Did she really have to beg her to give her a chance? 

She desperately asked, “Did you like them?” 

Cattleya paused, answering truthfully, “I gave them to my secretary.”

Disappointment washed over her face, “I see…” She felt defeated. Was there really nothing she could do? She then noticed how warm the billionairess’ eyes were. The charming smile that followed could melt her heart. How could anyone resist her?

“But I did taste the praline one as you had suggested. It was lovely.”

Their gaze locked. Scarlett felt drawn. Her stomach fluttered. For a brief moment, Cattleya allowed her eyes to travel the length of her. She was wearing an oversized shirt, leaving one shoulder exposed, showing the white strap of her bra. The blanket was draped over her laps, covering her legs which she imagined were bare. She then caught sight of the ice pack lying on the floor.

She narrowed her eyes, lifting an eyebrow, “Are you injured?” 

“No. You can leave!” Scarlett hastily said in a palpitating breath, shaking her head, clenching the blanket. She didn’t want her to see. She didn’t need her pity. 

Cattleya frowned, walked to where she was sitting, reached down and grabbed one side of the blanket before swinging it off her in one strong single movement. 

Scarlett squealed, instinctively clenching her legs together, feeling goosebumps all over her skin.

Her expert eyes scanned her slender legs, checking her alluring thighs, her knees, her gaze trailing down to rest till her feet. She noticed a slightly swollen and red area near the ankle of her right foot. She furrowed her brows, “Did I do that to you, sweetheart?” 

The endearment spoken with ease, took her aback as it smoothly rolled off her tongue. Her heart raced. “No. I… I slipped at work. It has nothing to do with you.”

Cattleya pursed her lips, grimacing, “You’re a terrible liar. That won’t do. I cannot allow this.” She leaned over her, gently resting her hand over Scarlett’s knee, sliding another arm around her waist.

Scarlett frantically gripped the hem of her shirt, pulling it down, trying to cover her legs, “What are you doing?” Oh God. Her perfume… She got a whiff of jasmine, rose with a hint of orchid and vanilla. It was beautifully intoxicating. She smelt so good. She gasped, feeling the warm hand slipping beneath her legs. She stammered, “If… if you’re not going to work with me, I don’t want you here!” 

“Je sais, chérie…” Cattleya locked eyes with her, “I know. But I refuse to let pain be the last thing you’ll remember getting from me.”

There was something hypnotizing about this woman. She couldn’t read her, couldn’t guess what she was thinking. One moment she was intimidating and the next she was so damn charismatic. She convulsively swallowed the lump in her throat, making a weak attempt at being sarcastic, “I think it’s a little too late for that—”

“Far from it, love.” Cattleya stood straight, gently raising her in her arms. Scarlett let out a wince of protest, instinctively clasping her shoulder for support, her eyes widening, “What are you…” She bit her lips, looking into her eyes which were twinkling in delight. 

“Why don’t we have that little session you were whining about?”

Scarlett stared at her, wondering if she was playing another one of her games with her. “Really?” What was the catch? Surely, she wasn’t doing all this for nothing, right? She couldn’t help but brush her fingers against the fabric of her blazer. She murmured, a bit dazed and distracted, “Oh, it’s so soft. Is it wool?”

“Silk velvet.”

She should have known. “Prada?”

“Dior.” Cattleya answered in a chuckle as she navigated her apartment, finding it amusing that she was dissecting her fashion style.

Scarlett huffed. At least, she was close. She poked her shoulder with a finger, squinting her eyes at her suspiciously, “You’ll answer all of my questions? All of them?”

The heiress merely nodded.

“Truthfully?” 

She vaguely hummed.

“No more beating around the bush?” 

She looked almost offended, “This isn’t my way, love. You have my word.” She pushed open a door with her shoulder and walked inside. Scarlett finally tore her eyes away from the billionairess, her heart pounding when she realized they were in her bedroom.

“I’ll have a look at your wound.” Cattleya smoothly said as she lowered her on the bed, stroking her jaw, tilting her chin up to make her look up at her, commanding her attention, “And you can ask me any of your silly questions. That’s the deal.”

She gawked at her, “I beg your pardon?” She wasn’t certain what was happening right now as she felt out of control in her own apartment. 

“Take it or leave it.”

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