Read BILLIONAIRE (Part 6) for Free Online Page B

satisfaction.  This was
something different.  This was beyond the scope of what I could tolerate.
    I
picked up the intercom that buzzed down to Alexander’s kitchen.  I knew
Alexander would be in his office, but I thought Claude, Alexander’s chef, might
be here.  He worked some evenings, preparing food, cleaning and arranging
Alexander’s travel plans, if he had any.  I’d met him only once, in passing. 
“Hello?” I said into the speaker.
    Nothing. 
The swirls of anxiety were surging through my veins like ice-fire.
    “Hello? 
Claude, are you there?”  I could hear the shaded anxiety in the echo of my
voice.
    A
crackle.  Then a voice.  “Hello?”  He seemed surprised to hear a female voice. 
Of course he would have been expecting Alexander’s orders, not mine.
    “Claude,
it’s Lila.”  I almost screamed at him, Let me out.  Please help me.  I need
you to come and let me out .  I fumbled with a request that might sound
reasonable.  “Uh, I wondered if you could bring me something to drink.  Yes, a
drink.  Alexander said I could order anything I liked, if you don’t mind bringing
it up, that is.”
    “Not
at all,” he said.  “Should I call Alexan—”
    “ No .” 
My answer was too sharp, too urgent.  I made a point of at least attempting to
smooth my panic.  “No, that’s not necessary.  He’s working and I’m waiting for
him in his room.  I’d just like a glass of champagne, if it’s no trouble.  If
you have some there.”
    “Of
course.  We always keep champagne.  I’ll bring it right up, Miss Lila.”
    “Thank
you.  Oh, and you’ll need to bring a key if you have one.  The door seems to be
locked.”
    He
paused at this, then gave a stilted, “Of course.”  I could only hope he’d obey
my wishes and refrain from alerting Alexander.  But then he probably knew that
Alexander didn’t like – to put it mildly – to be interrupted when he was in his
office; this detail would be my salvation.  My release.  My freedom.
    I
had to get out of here.  The panic continued to roll and to coil itself into my
gut.
    I
paced as I waited.  My heart raced erratically.  I willed myself to calm down,
reminding myself that there was no need to overreact.  But my psyche didn’t
seem to want to listen.  It was too ingrained, this fear, too unruly.  Too
fresh, after the horrible dream.  As I paced, I realized that the sound of the
lock clicking into place would have summoned my subconscious fears.  That’s why
I’d had the nightmare, because Alexander had insisted on imprisoning me,
whether to stop me from working with him or just because he was an overbearing,
unreasonably-obsessive tyrant, I didn’t know.  I didn’t care.  All I wanted to
do was escape from this closed room, which seemed to be shrinking.  I could
almost feel the walls closing in.  My skin felt clammy and cold with sweat and
my mind whirled in full-blown panic.
    A
soft knock rapped at my brain.  “Miss Lila?”
    I
rushed over to the door.  I heard the key click into place.  Those few seconds
felt unfathomably long as Claude fiddled with the lock, finally releasing it. 
The relief I felt when that door swung open was indescribable.  I almost threw
my arms around Claude in a fit of uncontrolled gratitude.  Claude was tall and
thin, and mild-mannered.  His eyes were a clear sky blue, giving him a look of
cleanness, like he was a tee-totalling vegan or something, unsullied by sin and
substance.  He looked wholly surprised by the state of me, with my luxurious
coat and wild eyes.  His expression was wary, cataloguing his role in this
unexpected scene.  I could see the thoughts play across his face: Should I
have unlocked this door?  Was it locked for a reason?  Will Alexander be
angry?  Will I get fired and lose my ridiculously fat salary considering all I
do is occasionally cook and clean for a filthy rich mogul with questionable
scruples and an imprisoned, crazed sex slave?  Or some