Page 65 of Anton's Grace
What further worried me was that Anton hadn’t become aroused. Whenever we danced, within minutes of close proximity, I would feel him strain against me. His hands would become more adventurous, his embrace fiercer and his lips more demanding. But not tonight.
What the hell is going on?
Without warning, Anton stopped the music and led me to the plush couch. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap. I faced him, my knees on each side of him. He rested his forehead against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and waited.
After a moment, he pulled back and looked at me with an unreadable expression. My stomach knotted with apprehension.
Anton sighed, then said, “I’m releasing you from your contract.”
My brain went numb. I stared at him trying to comprehend what he had just said. The words refused to sink in.
I wanted to ask him why. Did he want me to leave? Did I owe him the difference for the remaining seven weeks? Did I upset him somehow? But those were not the words that came out of my mouth. My arms dropped from around his neck.
“You don’t want me anymore?” I whispered, my broken voice baring the blistering hurt that was shredding my heart.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Have you met someone else?”
Please, not Sheila!
“No, there’s no one else.”
Then what?
“You want me to leave?”
“No, Grace. I want you to stay,” Anton said. It both soothed my heart while adding to my confusion.
“As your consort?”
“Yes.”
I wrung my hands, trying to understand. My thoughts seemed to drown in a pit of quicksand. “So why release me? Why not keep me?”
Anton cradled my face. “I don’t want to own you anymore.”
What?
“Why not?” I asked, nonplussed, my eyes flicking between his.
“Because I want what we’ve had for the past three months to be real,” Anton said with a vulnerability I had never seen from him before. “I don’t want you merely obeying the clauses of our contract.”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts.
“So… what does that mean, you releasing me? I can leave, debt free?”
He stiffened at my question. His hands dropped from my face. This wasn’t the response he wanted. But I needed to know exactly what I was getting myself into before I committed one way or another. How ironic he taught me so well.
“Yes,” he said, his tone slightly clipped. “The debt is repaid. If you wish to leave, you may go. You can keep all the clothes, jewelry, and accessories I bought you. Romero’s one-year contract is paid in full. Same with your dancers and all other costs related to your debut show.”
That was ridiculously generous. But upon further reflection, it made sense. He introduced me to a whole new world, light-years away from my previous life in the Commons. This debut show and my training with Romero gave me access to a future I couldn’t have achieved before. Losing those tremendous benefits would be reason enough for a woman to stay with him. With this offer, he eliminated that argument.
Being Anton’s consort provided many other privileges: VIP entrance everywhere; people falling all over themselves to please me – well to please Anton by pleasing me; the fabulous penthouse; him splurging money on me for clothes, jewelry, etc. Yeah, it would be hard for him to know if someone stuck around for him or for all those benefits.
That said, Marcus had the twelve million credits Anton had refused to take as repayment of the debt. Marcus told me if things went south with Anton, he would split the amount fifty-fifty with me. So I could leave Anton, keep Romero and my show while enjoying the life of luxury I had grown accustomed to.
The nervous ticking along Anton’s temple revealed his inner turmoil. He could see me analyzing the situation. Was it doubt or fear in his eyes? At that moment, I realized I wielded power over him. His whole life, everyone rejected him. He built his empire to no longer be at the mercy of other people’s whims. Yet, here he was, putting all that power in my hands. If I left, it could crush him. He would keep his head high and proud because that’s who he is. But he would never make himself vulnerable again.