Queen of Blackmail

Natasha slowly opened her eyes. Everything around her was blurry, and her head felt like it weighed a ton. Suddenly, she was aware that she was lying on a couch in a room she'd never been in before. At first, she thought she was back in the apartment, but Marion didn't have such an old-fashioned-looking couch. Wrong style, wrong color. Then she noticed movement. A couple of people sat in plush chairs across from her. As she blinked her eyes into focus, she could see a woman and a man in their sixties looking back at her. They looked like an ordinary couple relaxing at home, but Natasha knew that things were all wrong. She shouldn't wake up in the home of strangers. Then a younger, heavier man stepped into view behind where the couple sat. "What, what's going on?" Natasha stammered. "Where am I?" "Relax, honey," the woman said with a matronly smile. "You're safe. No harm will come to you here as long as you're willing to follow instructions." "We paid good money for you," the man Natasha assumed was the woman's husband piped up. "All we want is respect, loyalty, and kindness in return." Return for what? Natasha wondered. "I don't understand. What the hell is going on, and where is Marion?" "Language, dear, language," said the woman. "I don't give a shit about language. I want to know where I am and what's going on." The younger man stepped between Natasha and the woman. "I would watch what I said if I were you and do as you're told. As they said, everything will be just fine as long as you do what you’re told to do. Your old life is gone. Over. You can fight or you can learn to adapt." Natasha, becoming more alert, focused on the guy. He was the guy who had supposedly come to help with Marion's vehicle, which was supposedly sounding funny. Then it all came rushing back to her. He had gotten out of a dark van, claiming to have his lucky towel in hand, holding up a blue-colored rag. She hadn't known it was soaked in chloroform until he'd snuck up on her and pressed it against her face until it was too late. "I suggest you follow orders, just like my parents said, and everything will be fine. My parents are getting up there in years, and we're in need of someone to help them with cooking and cleaning, and that's why they paid for you. So just do as you're told and you'll be okay." "I still don't understand," said Natasha. "Paid for me?" "Through the dark web," the man explained. Natasha was suddenly terrified, even though she tried to hide it. "That's why you kidnapped me?" "I wasn't the guy who took you. That was just a middleman." Natasha studied the guy closer and realized there were some differences. The guy's physique was off as well as his hair color. "I still don't understand. Why kidnap someone to help your parents when they could have hired someone to help them?" "Because that would cost more money in the end as the years added up." Natasha felt her heart rate increase. "Where is Marion?" "Marion?" the older man asked. "The woman I was with when I was taken. She said her car sounded funny, and we pulled over so she could text someone to help." "The person she was texting was likely the person hired to snatch you." As the cold, hard reality of her situation hit her, Natasha could literally feel the dread wrapping around her heart and her gut. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that the woman I was with sold me to your parents?" The guy nodded. Natasha's shock left her speechless for a moment as she tried to process the incredibly shocking information she was being fed. It was literally like stepping out of her body and into someone else's body, life, and mind. "If it's any consolation to you, better to be sold as a laborer than something much more intimate and worse." "Gee, thanks," Natasha said sarcastically. "That really goes a long way toward making me feel better." Although her legs were shaky and her heart was still pounding, Natasha rose from the couch and said, "I'm out of here. Find some other slave to bend to your will because it sure as hell isn't going to be me." Natasha was grabbed by the waist, then instantly pushed back down on the couch. "Get it through your head," the man snarled. "You're never going anywhere again. You aren't even in Germany anymore." Wasn't she? Where the hell was she then? She knew asking wouldn't get her any answers, but based on the accent, she supposed she was somewhere in northern Europe. She suspected she could be in one of the Scandinavian countries. Her mind flashed to Marion. How the fuck could she do something so sadistic to her?! Better yet, how the hell would she get out of this situation and contact Phillip? Especially if she no longer had her possessions with her. "OK, OK, can I just have my laptop so I can let my husband back in the States know that I'm OK?" The man laughed as if that was the silliest thing he had ever heard. "We don't have a single possession of yours except for the clothes on your back. My parents will provide everything you need, such as food, clothing, a roof over your head, and, to a degree, medical care. Absolutely no extras will be provided for you, much less any kind of electronic device. You'll never hold a smartphone or a laptop in your hands again." Natasha's fear turned to rage. "Wanna make a bet?" she challenged.