33. Celia
Celia’s smile takes on a devilish quality. “He took me as a trophy after he destroyed my father. It put fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare oppose him. Fuck with Felipe Villanueva and he will murder you in your home and steal your daughter for his concubine. Quite effective.”
“Why does that make you smile? He killed your father! He took you prisoner!” Kid says caustically and full of reproach. Celia finds his anger ignorant and incendiary. She won’t tolerate it.
“You are prisoner too!” Celia snaps in English. “Felipe takes what he believes he is owed and nothing more. For years I begged him to kill my bastard of a father. I offered myself to him as payment; he refused. But little did I know he would deliver me vengeance one day and demand I make good on my promise.
“He had my father’s empire, but it wasn’t enough and I’ve been with him ever since. Do not presume to know our master. He has his own honor and we are lucky to have inspired his affections.” She glares at Kid, the insolent little brat.
Kid’s indignation wilts under the heat of Celia’s death stare. “I didn’t really get all that, but I get that Felipe sort of did you a favor. My bad; I don’t know the guy that well, except for the fact he’s always trying to fuck me.”
Celia laughs. “He is not.”
Kid balks. “Uh, yeah, he fucking is. He’s always talking about…well, you’re there—cheering him on.” The boy sneers. “You always take his side—always—and it’s not fair. I never have a say.”
Kid pouts and Celia’s stomach can’t help but flutter. He’s utterly naïve; it makes her long for her own long-lost innocence. Felipe is devout and steadfast in his seduction, and she knows in her heart that one day she will surrender to his will. He will own her, body, mind, and soul. She will keep fighting against it, but one day… “Felipe save your life. He feel he own it. But your spirit, you have to give him. He wants you to give to him. He’ll seduce your body until it craves him. He’ll worship you until you feel the intense desire to be worthy of such devotion. You can only think of his happiness and the way it shines on you, makes you feel weak and invincible all at once.” She wistfully looks toward the hidden camera in her room. She knows Felipe will watch the playback. He always does.
“Yeah,” Kid says, “I get it. If he was going to do it, he would’ve by now. That right?” His face tells Celia he isn’t finished speaking; he seems exasperated. “I just…why’s he gotta try and make me ask for it. It’s bullshit. I’m the prisoner. Why doesn’t he just take what he obviously wants and lemme be?”
Celia knows well the turmoil Kid suffers; she’s felt it in one way or another for several years. It is her deepest hope that one day she and Felipe will move on from the hardships of the past toward a fulfilling future. Felipe’s intentions in gifting her with Kid as a companion are either a stepping stone toward that future, or a white flag.
“Would you like to hear a secret?” Celia adjusts herself onto her back so she can stare toward the camera.
“I’m not gonna get my ass kicked for knowing, am I? ‘Cause if so, I’d rather you didn’t tell me.”
Celia is charmed by Kid on a consistent basis. “You are silly.” She takes a deep breath. Her smile slowly drops. “Felipe and me…we don’t make sex.”
Kid props himself up on one elbow; his shock and incredulity is painted all over his face. “That’s bullshit. You had sex on top of me the first time I met you!” He apologizes quietly when Celia angrily clucks her tongue and shakes her head.
“Don’t interrupt. I meant to say we don’t…do it the natural way.” She places a hand between her legs for emphasis.
“You don’t let him fuck your pussy?” Kid looks doubtful and sputters on, “But that’s crazy! You’re his bitch.” He hisses a breath and rubs at the sting across his cheek.
Celia pops her knuckles by making a fist and then shakes out her hand. “Language, slave, or I will tell master on you. I am not a bitch!” She crosses her arms under her breasts.
“No, Celia, not like that.” Kid lowers himself to the mattress, holding his reddened cheek. “You’re not a bitch. A bitch is a girl—I mean—I—we—used to call girls that when they belonged to one of the guys. I’m sorry.” Kid stares up at her, contrite. “Please…don’t tell Felipe.”
“Okay,” Celia huffs, “but you don’t say anymore. I am a slave, but no one own me. I am not a bitch.” She turns her back on Kid and stares into the darkness of the room. It’s not often she allows her emotions to get the better of her, but Kid and his crass sincerity can be too much sometimes.