I wake up in a hospital bed without a piece of me. It’s not the end of the world to lose a thumb. Worse things can happen, but I’ll never hold a needle and thread again. To be a veterinary surgeon, you need all your fingers. It happened too quickly for me to process. Twenty minutes after Gabriel left, the doctor returned with the news. The digit they sewed back didn’t take. I had gangrene in my thumb. To stop the infection from spreading, he had to amputate above the knuckle. Fifteen minutes later, I was wheeled into the operating room.

The door opens, and a nurse enters. “You’re awake.” She looks at the chart by the foot of the bed and adjusts the drip in my arm. “Ready for visitors? Mr. Louw is anxious to see you.”

I’m not. I want to be alone to process what happened.

“Push the button if you’re in pain.” She leaves a call button within reach of my good hand and calls brightly through the door, “You can see her now.”

When Gabriel enters, my heart shatters. His hair is messy and his shirt creased, like he slept in it all night. The skin under his eyes is a blue-ish color. He limps to my bedside, his face an unreadable mask. Despite his tall frame and all those muscles, he looks utterly vulnerable. A deep need to soothe him makes me reach out, cupping his cheek.

“What time is it?”

“Just after six.” He adds, “In the morning.”

“Did you stay the whole night?”

“Of course.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He says nothing, but turmoil suddenly twists his face.

“It’s just a thumb,” I say.

He grabs my fingers and squeezes so hard it hurts. When I cry out he lets go, seeming uncertain what to do with my hand. Finally, he places it on top of the bedspread.

“You’re not the only one who can brag. I’ve got my own scar, now.”

“I’ve already spoken to the doctor about a prosthesis.”

“I don’t want an artificial thumb.”

“Why not? It’ll look natural.”

“It won’t function.”

“No.” He avoids my eyes. “It won’t.”

“I don’t care about how I look.” When his eyes turn stormy, I try for humor. “Damn, I’ll never be able to hitchhike.”

A smile breaks through his dark expression. “You don’t have to. You’ve got me.”

Not forever.

He traces a finger along my jaw. “There are other things. Veterinary assistant. Nurse.”

It’s like telling me there are other men than him.

“Yes,” I say softly, “there are other things.”

---

Time flies by during the next few weeks. Christmas comes and goes. I shared a quiet lunch with Kris and Charlie. Instead of buying each other gifts, we donated money to a charity for stray animals. Gabriel, Sylvia, Carly, and Magda had a party with their associates and friends. Magda hired caterers, so my help wasn’t needed. Gabriel gave me a spa voucher for Christmas that included every imaginable pampering treatment. My gift to him was of a more depraved nature. He asked to tie me up and film spanking and fucking me. He didn’t need my permission, but my free will was the gift he wanted. It was another way of twisting more submission from me, of making me fall deeper into the darkness that is us. Afterward, he made me watch it. Like the perverse being I’ve become, it turned me on, and the reward for my reaction was a tender marathon of slow lovemaking.

The house is quiet without Carly. She comes to visit every second weekend for a couple of hours. I can tell Gabriel misses her. After New Year, the house turns even quieter when Magda leaves for Cape Town. I don’t know what kind of work she’s doing there, and I don’t ask. Gabriel is often out on business, leaving me alone in the mansion. Gabriel, Quincy, and Rhett treat me like an invalid, carrying the washing basket and anything else I can easily enough pick up. For some tasks, I switch to my left hand. Others, I manage with four fingers.

Marie comes back to work, her speech impaired and her disposition brusquer than before. As the traveling between home and work becomes too much for her, she moves into a bedroom in the house. I have a strong suspicion she tattles to Magda. She watches me like a hawk. For that reason, even if Magda and Carly aren’t present, I still don’t spend whole evenings in Gabriel’s bed. Some nights he comes to me, and some nights I go to him. When we’re together, I’m his sex object. His pet. When Magda enters the equation, I’m property. Gabriel is careful to tone down the affection he shows me in private when Marie or Magda is around.

Kris is supportive. She said I could still buy into the practice, even if we both know I’ll never be able to afford it on a maid or veterinary nurse’s salary. Aletta was sad when I told her the news. Shortly after, she informed me they awarded the bursary to another, needy student. Charlie got very involved with the dog walking. He takes the task to heart, and the responsibility seems to do him good.

It’s only me who’s not doing well. On a non-physical level. My checkups are good. The doctor says the infection hasn’t spread. I’m stuck in Gabriel’s house, submitted to his mercy, and I can’t say he’s mistreating me. I’ve come to crave the spankings and beltings. He buys my food and clothes. Anything I want, I only have to mention it, and I’ll find it in my room the next day. It’s as if he’s trying to make up for the loss of my dreams and the dark needs he submits me to with material compensation. His gifts range from cosmetics to books and even a new iPhone.

Sex with Gabriel is always explosive, even when it’s gentle. Lately, there’s a lot of gentle. That’s why I can’t understand my growing sadness. The kinder he acts toward me, the sadder I feel. I can’t bring the man in my bed together with the man who holds Charlie’s future over my head. I want to hate both, but I know better. It’s been a long time since I felt only desire for Gabriel. I care about him, and I hate that I do.

As always, Gabriel picks up on my mood. That night, he arranges my naked body on the mattress so he can look at me. He cups my breast gently, stroking his thumb over my nipple.

“Ouch.” The sensation is almost too much to bear.

Testing the weight of my breast, he gives me a thoughtful look. “You’re close to having your period.”

He almost looks disappointed. It’s not like he hasn’t made love to me during my period. I don’t understand his silent dejection.

“Yes.” I turn on my side, facing the wall, relieved to understand the reason for my depressive feelings. It’s just a heavy bout of PMS.

He rubs a palm over my stomach and presses his cock between my legs. “I’ll be gentle.” Without waiting for my consent, he rolls me onto my stomach and settles between my thighs. “Open for me, beautiful.”

I open my legs, giving him the view he wants. He strokes and teases me for a long time, until his fingers are soaked with my wetness. Only then does he push inside, slow and easy. It’s then that it hits me. Since I’ve been back from the hospital, he’s only taken me from behind. How could I have missed this before? He’s fucked me against the wall, on his desk, in his armchair, in the pool, and in a variety of other, creative places, but my butt was always pressed against his groin, my face looking away from him. Is it me? Does he find me unattractive? I twist under him, starting to squirm.

“Valentina.”

“Let me up.”

I don’t expect him to, but he obliges. He watches me warily as I switch positions, turning him on his back.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.”

“Why?” he says with a pained expression.

“Because I like to.”

I lower myself over his cock, taking him into the depth of my body. I let the pleasure show on my face, letting him see what he does to me as I start rocking, my nerve endings coming alive for him.

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“Do you like to look at me?”

“You know I do.”

“Then stop talking and fuck me.”

It’s as if a dam inside of him breaks. He growls and grips my hips, keeping me in place while he pounds into me, taking me to the edge I want to go.

As my body tightens, he cries out his climax. It’s the quickest we’ve come together since the week he started fucking me. I drape my body over his chest, holding him inside of me. I wish I could stay like this, but I’m not naïve enough to let myself belief this will last. It matters nothing to him. He has no emotional obligation to me. He can fuck anyone he wants without explanation.

“Gabriel?”

He strokes my back. “Yes, beautiful?”

“Do you fuck other women?”

His hand stills. “Why?”

I shrug. “Don’t I need tests for STD?”

The caressing resumes. “There’s only you, Valentina. I told you before.”

“It was a long time ago. It could’ve changed.”

“I’ll tell you if it does.”

My heart feels like it has just gone through a blender. It can change. I was right. I swallow my tears, angry at my irrational feelings. I have no right to expect more from him. It’s my own damn, stupid fault I fell for my tormentor.

---

Three weeks later, I resume my secret training with Rhett. My amputated thumb has healed enough to undertake more strenuous exercise. I’m out of shape, even if I tried to stay fit by using the Walker in the gym. He floors me every time, throwing my ass on the mat. It’s during our session on Thursday evening when Gabriel is out on business that I burst into frustrated tears.

Rhett looks at me, aghast. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I wipe at my cheeks. “I’m just emotional.”

My damn period hasn’t started yet. The sooner it does, the sooner I’ll get over this depressed state.

He offers a hand to pull me up. I’m scarcely on my feet when the evening’s dinner pushes back up my throat. I rush to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just before I empty my stomach. Rhett runs in after me, coming to a halt next to the toilet.

Dry heaves wrack my body, making my eyes tear up.

“Jesus, Valentina.” He takes a stash of paper towels and hands them to me. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Feeling slightly better, I rinse my face and wash my hands.

He touches my arm. “Are you…?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not sick.”

“I meant are you pregnant?”

My lips part in shock. The blood drops straight from my head to my feet, leaving me feeling dizzy. “No, of course not.”

I’ve never missed my pill. I am however a little late. Oh, God. What if? Gabriel will kill me.

Impossible.

I’ve been careful.

I take another towel from the dispenser and wipe my mouth, noticing how much my hands are shaking. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. I just need an early night to catch up on sleep.”

He watches me leave, not saying a word.

I crawl into bed after a shower, but I don’t close an eye. It’s late when Gabriel returns. He strips naked and climbs into bed beside me. I’m wet for him, but he takes his time to lick and tease my folds. He doesn’t stop until I’ve come twice, and only then does he fuck me. The way he loves my body is incredible, but my mind isn’t there. My mind is searching for solutions to problems I haven’t even confirmed, yet.

“Where are you?” he finally asks, kissing my breasts.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”

He covers my body in kisses, all the way from my stomach to my feet. He’s so gentle, I want to cry.

When he’s kissed his way back up to my neck, he hugs me tightly and says, “Go to sleep.”

---

After breakfast, I walk to the staff unit. Rhett is sitting on the porch, sipping his coffee. He gets to his feet when he sees me.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” I give him a wry smile. “I need a favor, please.”

“Anything.” He leaves the cup on the rail.

“I need you to go to the pharmacy.”

His look is pitiful. “All right.”

“Gabriel can’t know. Do you hear me?”

“Valentina.”

He walks down the steps and reaches for me, but I pull away.

“He can’t know, Rhett, not until I know for sure.”

He swallows and nods. “I’ll be back soon.”

---

A short time later, I sit on the seat of the toilet, staring at the two blue lines on the strip.

Positive.

I’m expecting Gabriel’s baby.

A mixture of feelings rushes through me. I’m faint with wonder. I’m also sick with fear. Will he blame me? He’ll be furious. Worse, he’ll think I did it on purpose to trap him. Gabriel will never want a baby with a woman who’s property. I don’t mind raising a child on my own. Gabriel doesn’t have to give me a cent. I won’t expect support from him, but what if he doesn’t want me to have this baby? What if he forces me to have an abortion? If he drives me to a clinic, there won’t be anything I can do to stop him. He still owns me, and now he owns the baby growing in me, too.

There’s only one thing I can do to save the little life inside me. I quickly pack a bag, my hands trembling so much I drop my phone twice. I wrap the pregnancy kit in a plastic bag, and discard it in the trash outside where no one will look. Only Rhett will guess, but by the time Gabriel confronts him, I’ll be long gone.

In Gabriel’s study, I write a quick note.

I can’t honor my promise. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Leaving it on his desk, I pull the door close, knowing Marie won’t enter his study. Then I call a private taxi. It’s going to cost an arm and a leg, but I can’t afford to take a minivan. I need to disappear fast. Rhett left with Gabriel a short while ago, and Quincy is walking Bruno. I walk past the guards at the gate with a wave, my bag slung over my shoulder, acting as normal as I can. They’ve only seen me leaving the property on foot once, but I’m leaving on a regular enough basis for them not to stop me.

A block from the house, I pause to wait. Two minutes later, the taxi pulls up to the street corner I gave the driver. Looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is following, I jump inside.

“Go, please. Quickly.”

I don’t glance back as the driver speeds away. I cup my hands over my stomach and stare straight ahead.

I have to.

For my baby.