| Chapter 1Gaston Larreau smiled to himself. Guests, noting the expression, anxiously returned it with one of their own, but truly the little man was smiling in his own amusement. It pleased him that celebrities and others of importance vied for invitations to his weekly affairs. It gave him a certain inner sense of superiority. He knew what they thought of him ... Canada's czar of the underworld; yet, to be seen at one of Gaston's Larreau's Mont Royale affairs was to be mentioned in the society columns of the Montreal World. He hated them all; they were frauds and parasites; yet, he appreciated them too, for they gave him an air of legitimacy.Gaston Larreau stood five-feet-seven-inches tall in his exclusively hand designed, one-hundred-and-fifty dollar elevator shoes; he was abundant of girth, broad at the shoulders, balding, and meticulous of dress. His head, like his face, was round and set close to his shoulders, and his small grey, almost colorless, eyes were spaced too-wide apart, just as his too-small ears clung tight to his head. The cicatrix left from an aged razor wound ran the length of his right cheek, ending at the corner of his mouth, making the flesh there puffed and malformed until he smiled, and then the line of strong golden upper teeth became predominant.Presently, he smiled with her by his side and moved amongst them, always hating yet always appreciating, lashing and cutting with his bitter tongue, but forever enjoying, listening to the whispers, staring down the men and lecherously eyeing their women, while unendingly squeezing her hand. She would be his ultimate moment this evening. He looked forward to it as might a connoisseur saving the finest wine until last. She had no idea what was to come. The expression on her lovely face would be as exciting to him as a moment of actual seduction, he thought. He could wait; to savor in anticipation was often greater than the act itself.They whispered:She is the niece?She is Antoine's new wife three months, I think. But of course, he's adopted, you know.I didn't know. I thought he was actually related.Hell, no. He's not a Larreau; his name is Poirier. That monster adopted him when he was twelve ... conscience, I suppose ... inasmuch as he killed the boy's parents. A struggle for power within the syndicate, as I understand it, and the lad's mother happened to be in the car when the bomb went off.My God! Are you certain, Chapput? That's a dreadful thing to say unless you're certain ...Certain? Who's certain about anything these days, M. Minstre? I'm simply a reporter.She is devastating, a female voice commented jealously.Sexy, I believe is the modern term, my dear, replied her male companion.They say she comes from the Gaspe ... that horrid place, spoke another female. Unbelievable ... such a lovely creature ...Breathtaking. But why doesn't he have his own daughter act as hostess, seeing she is home from college? It doesn't seem right, does it?Annette? Don't be silly. They don't get on, you know ... an estrangement of some sort between them ... at least, that's what I hear. Probably over her mother ... she's in an institution ... has been for years.I've heard, but I know little ... Tell me, is M. Larreau as vile and evil a man as they say? tittered the first female voice.Ask Chapput. He's the reporter, came a male retort.Don't ask me anything. I need my job. Just look around you and consider yourself one of the chosen ... the czar has commanded your company.Look! She's lovely. Isn't she lovely, Chapput? What to say to him.My God! She's lovely. Isn't she lovely, Chapput?Tonight, she's lovely; tomorrow, well ... one hesitates to guess ...* * *Madeleine Poirier watched her handsome young executive husband from across the room. Uncle Gaston's so-called secretary, Ginny Novak, continued to cling to his arm. It irked the beautiful, raven-haired girl, but there was little to be done about it; Uncle Gaston's Friday night cocktail-dinner parties were a social must on their calendar; they had no choice but to attend, it seemed, their wealthy and powerful benefactor having chosen her to act as hostess and remain at his side. It was a distinct honor, Antoine insisted, especially now that Annette was down from Quebec where she attended Lavel, Universite. Madeleine tried, as she had for the past eight weeks, to enjoy the distinction, attempting to put her own inner burden temporarily from mind as she assumed a false, worldly attitude, while the squat mighty overlord clung to her small soft hand inside his own fat, sweaty one; but invariably she felt uneasy ... hardly equal to the task, and the manner in which the glamorous twenty-nine year old blonde from the states hung possessively to her Antoine was annoying her to no end.Ginny Novak was never a secretary; in fact, Madeleine wondered if she could write her own name correctly. She was Uncle Gaston's mistress and nothing more. There had been a great number of them over the last dozen years according to Antoine, ever since Aunt Yolande had been put away in some institution or other ... a mental case the family said; no one ever went to see her. Antoine, himself, could hardly remember her; he was fifteen at the time of her commitment, and he doubted if Annette remembered her at all. She had been only nine, and he remembered no mother-daughter relationship. A calloused, if, strikingly attractive girl, Madeleine had opined from their very first meeting, and constantly at odds with Uncle Gaston, seemingly taking pleasure in defying him. Now, she looked about the room, but the nineteen year old lovely was nowhere to be seen."Come, ma chere," Uncle Gaston said, distracting her fixed dark eyes from Ginny Novak who was laughing gaily into the slender handsome face of her husband. "It's time we reviewed this assemblage of social leeches, eh?"Sometime earlier in the evening, Madeleine had fastened a perpetual little smile to her delicate-featured, oval face. She offered it to him in answer as the emperor maneuvered her about the luxurious room, always holding to her hand, introducing her to new guests as his Madeleine, "... wife of that adopted nephew of mine. Magnificent, isn't she? Sometimes, I wonder if the boy realizes how lucky he is ..."After awhile, Madeleine no longer blushed at his syrupy compliments before others. It was natural that these praises should react upon her ego, never in her poor existence having known such flattery, but she hardly felt parallel to them and she was pleased when other topics dominated the conversations, especially politics and more worldly subjects in which she was not expected to be versed. It gave her the opportunity to look intelligent with pretended interest while her mind actually wandered on many planes.Sometimes, she could not believe this new, luxurious life she had become a part of and she would have to pinch herself to know that it was real. Then the lump of near-ultimate happiness would rise into her throat, but always followed by the little tears of pain as thoughts of her tiny Igat would rush to mind. Her shame ... her child ... her dreaded secret ... Dear God, how she longed to hold the beloved little creature in her arms ... to cuddle her ... to mother her ... her own precious Igat. What would all of these people think of her if they knew? What would Uncle Gaston say? But more important than all, what would Antoine believe of her, then? Oh God, she dare not even think of that; she loved him so.Now, automatically, she let her eyes search the room until they found him again, and the little lump of near-happiness arose in her throat. He stood among several guests engaged in conversation, that blonde vixen beside him ... he stood taller than the others, not handsome really, she supposed ... his face was too thin and his nose too long, but it had been his gentleness of eye and his firm, thin-lipped mouth that had first attracted her ... that she had fallen in love with. She watched him smile; his handsome white teeth sent a little thrill through her. Antoine Poirier, President of Galaxy Mining, Ltd., how impressive it sounded. Of course, Galaxy was one of Uncle Gaston's enterprises and it was not as if Antoine had worked his way up the ladder the hard way; all the same such an executive responsibility required great intelligence and ability, and Uncle Gaston was not to let him remain in such a capacity if he didn't merit it. She was so proud of him ... loved him so ... God, if there was only some way she could unburden her soul to him and have him understand, perhaps, even bring her Igat into their family ... Heavenly Father, how wonderful that would be ... if only there was some way ... But she was groping for straws and she knew it. There was just no way ... no way in the world ... at least, not at this time with only three months of marriage behind them, and that somewhat strained with their individual efforts of trying to discover each other.She thought about that now as she wore her pleasant little smile and feigned being a good listener while Uncle Gaston argued with Ernest Mallory, the Minister of Citizenship and Immigration over existing, 'stupid' immigration laws. She thought about their love-making, and her own inability to respond fully because of her constant pressure of mind over Igat. In effect, the unfulfilled results, time and again, had left her as flustered as Antoine, for invariably, once he had emptied his loins into her, he would blame himself over her lack of climactic achievement, often-times with tears and swearing that next time it would be different ... but as yet, it was not. Sometimes, she felt that he, too, was carrying some heavy inner burden ... a business pressure probably, but she didn't pry; when it was time, if he wanted her to know, he would tell her. Nevertheless, their sexual fiascos had added to her growing feeling of frustration, until she had reached this point of even being jealous over the likes of Ginny Novak. Lord, she had to get hold of herself. She was a woman of position now ..."What is your opinion, Cheri?" Uncle Gaston interrupted her train of thought, speaking in English for the benefit of the Minister from Ottawa.Madeleine caught herself; she never liked to appear the fool. "I think my opinions are better left unsaid, Oncle," she replied smiling somewhat shyly, entirely unaware of the nature of their conversation."What's more, Madame Poirier is a diplomat, M'sieu'," Mallory returned, smiling broadly. "As if being beautiful is not enough.""You flatter me, M'sieu' Mallory," said Madeleine into his pale, hawkish face. He was a tall man, lean and impressive of stature, with fine eyes and an unruly shock of white hair. "I fear if you gentlemen don't stop you'll turn my head.""In my direction, I hope," the Minister teased.Madeleine made an habitual gesture of tossing her head to right her shoulder-length, raven-black hair even as she continued to smile. The little movement caused her firm rounded breasts to quiver in the thin, invisible bra behind the low-cut, white mini-gown she wore and Uncle Gaston imagined that he heard male eyes click as they locked upon the voluptuous spectacle. He squeezed her hand and let his tongue wet his dry lips. It was time, he thought. Why the hell should he wait any longer? He'd been waiting all day. He stole a glance at Antoine and saw that Ginny was keeping him occupied ... per instructions."You will pardon us, M'sieu' Mallory," Gaston Larreau excused them, "but we must argue with the other guests too.""Of course," said Mallory. "Perhaps we can get back into the subject later, M'sieu' Larreau. There are some other ramifications I believe you're overlooking ...""Later," the little czar replied bluntly. "Come, ma chere." He held to her hand and led her across the room toward the archway into the central hall, then addressed her in French: "There's something I want to discuss with you, my pet.""Oh ...?" said Madeleine, surprised. "What is it, Uncle?"He retained her hand within his own and escorted her to his large, paneled study. There, he let free of her, closed the double doors, flicking the locking catch on the knob, then walked toward his private bar to make them a drink. As yet, he had not answered her and Madeleine watched his broad expensively covered back move away from her; she glanced behind her at the closed, locked door, then back at the squat, powerful man who now mixed casually behind the bar. Occasionally, his colorless little eyes raised from what he was doing and dwelled upon her face, then, openly raked the length of her curvaceous body with an almost lecherous gleam lighting them. He smiled, his gold teeth flashing in the indirect lumination of the room. She felt a little catch in her breathing and a certain clamminess moved along her spine as he continued to smile ... almost leer while his eyes all but stripped her naked.Whatever it was all about, Madeleine had no idea. She had never seen him like this, and he coldly frightened her."Are you happy with Antoine, dear?" he questioned in their native tongue, his vicious small eyes never ceasing their lewd undressing of her person."O-Of course ... why do you ask, Uncle?""I'm concerned. After all, besides Annette, I have no one else ... with the exception of you, now ... and I regard you of the greatest importance, Madeleine." His near-twisted smile seemed affixed to his round face as he came from behind the bar carrying two drinks. His eyes held her own exotic dark ones levelly, almost hypnotically, as he moved toward her, one hand bearing the glass, extended. "I wouldn't want you unhappy, my pet."Automatically, Madeleine's graceful hand accepted the glass, but her eyes remained adjoined to his. Additional ripples of chill trickled up her back. She knew of his reputation, his ruthless brutality, had even guessed that such tales might be ... could be true, but she had never dreamed that she, herself, would ever witness any indication enlightening that part of his character. Dear God, she thought she was previewing it now ... but why? Had she done something! Where was Antoine ...?From the moment he handed her the glass he never stopped moving closer to her. They were nearly of equal height. She felt his great middle pressing ever stronger against her, his round, scarred face closing in on her own. The meaning of the gesture was beyond her and Madeleine stood her ground, iced fear stiffening her being. But, then, within that scope of inches, she saw the blurred visage of his puckering lips swooping in upon her own, and she realized the affront."Uncle Gaston! My God! What're you trying to do ...?"Her hands, one still holding a glass, came up between them, rigid at arm's-bent length against his chest. She backed several feet toward the locked door behind her and gaped at him."I was going to kiss you," he hissed, the wild satyrism she had read in his eyes even more pronounced now. "I'm sure you're familiar with the act.""Uncle Gaston ...! I-I just don't ... I don't understand ...! Please ... please, let's go join the others ...""Shut up, slut! Shut your fucking mouth!" he spat at her.Madeleine stared in utter disbelieving, mounting horror at the squat despot of crime before her ... this man who not only controlled the vile and vicious underworld, but whose company the wealthy and famous competed for, while the lewd word he had blurted at her ricocheted like a giant, depraved, evil omen in her brain."Un-Uncle Gaston ... Wh-What is it ...?""Bitch! You stand there, cunt-slut that you are and tell me you don't understand?" Suddenly, he threw back his vicious head and laughed, loud and not caring, his teeth glistening in the light. He stared at her, his evil smile never lessening, then, he moved closer to her once more. "You've got a kid! You've hid it out in the home of one Rafael Girarde here in Montreal. A bastard brat you'd like to forget ... and you dare to marry my Antoine and pretend? Cunt-slut! That's what you are! Come into my house ... Me, Gaston Larreau, and put on airs! You pig! What do you think Antoine would say if he knew? Eh? And you wonder how I know, don't you, bitch? Well I'll tell you. Your Doctor Carey does little things for me ... takes a shady bullet out now and then ... whatever I have for him. But suddenly, he read the papers ... thought he might have a hot banana, one he could use to raise hush money, so he dared come to me and spit out the truth."Madeleine had backed to the door. The czar inched closer against her. He said: "You know what that information cost me?" He laughed. "Twenty dollars ... enough for a gallon of booze. And you know the value of that same information my pet?" Once more, he laughed ... slowly at first, then, in a rising crescendo. "You! You, my dear, are the ultimate value of that twenty dollars so well-spent. You, with your young, voluptuous charms will crawl to me unless you want me to destroy your world. You will give yourself entirely to me to do with as I see fit ... otherwise, I'll completely destroy you not only with Antoine, but wherever you go. Now ... say something, darling ... say something intelligent, you luscious creature."Madeleine stood frozen in mental horror. Her entire body seemed a part of the door as she pressed backward against it and stared at the metamorphosis of human into monster before her. She watched him raise his drink to his lips and sip, and she watched mesmerized in abject terror and instantaneous hatred, the salacious leer ever contorting his evil face as inch by inch he moved in closer to her."Oh God! Please ... Uncle Gaston ... My God! You can't tell Antoine," she pleaded, for nothing else mattered. "Let me! I'll tell him! I swear it ...!""Stupid cunt," Larreau spat and Madeleine cringed at the vile insult. "What good do you think that'll do, now? The damage is done. Do you think he would want someone else's bastard child?""But you don't understand! She's just a little baby. Stop calling her those names! Damn you ...!"Larreau widened his grin. "So ... you do have some spunk, after all. I ... I was beginning to wonder.""She's not to blame! She's an innocent baby ...!""Shut up! You hear? Shut up, cunt!"She did, gaping at him. His smile had disintegrated; his eyes were emblazened with rage. He raised his glass and drained it, then threw it on the davenport beside him, the ice dribbling out to wet the expensive cushions, his vile epithets cutting her to the quick. Heavenly Father, she had never been so abused in her life. He came next to her and tore the glass from her grasp, then wound his pudgy, brutal hand in her hair and forced her mouth to his.He kissed her! His vicious tongue stabbed at her lips and she fought it, clenching her teeth until his hand twisted the long length of her hair, until tears streamed from her eyes and her mouth gaped from the pain. His tongue, hot and wet, plunged to her throat and his short arm encircled her waist powerfully, crushing her to him. He ground his belly overwhelmingly against hers, his groin tightly against her own soft, tender pelvis, until she could feel the hardness of his swollen member undulating in a near-pulverizing motion at the juncture of her full, warm thighs.Mon Dieu! Antoine! Please ... come quick! I need you! I need you!Finally, he eased back from her, smiling as if he had just brought her great pleasure."There now," he said, "Not so bad is it?" He lifted the glass he had taken from her and drank from it. "Why satisfy yourself with the parasite when you can have the king, my pet?""I-I-I love Antoine."He drank again. "Love? Humph!" he grunted. "A word ... not a very meaningful one either. Only an excuse for attachment." Again, he drank, "Never mind, it isn't important what you think, or want. It's what I want that counts ... and I want you, my dear." He backed away and moved in a small circle before her. "You'll do what I say from here on ... unless you prefer to be completely destroyed ... along with your illegitimate daughter.""What are you saying? You ... you wouldn't do anything to hurt Igat ...?""Why not? Bastard kids are born every day. What's one more? If she or he holds me from getting what I want ... then, it's time to destroy them.""My God! My dear God! You're horrid! An unadulterated monster ...!"Larreau set down his glass and moved against her once more. His left hand encircled her small waist while his right darted to her left breast, encompassing its full, rotund protuberance, squeezing and kneading, working at its nipple through the several layers of garments until it stood hard and erect, and in her helplessness she submitted to him."No ... I'm not what you think," he said, letting his hands trail down her slightly delineated ribs to her hips, then moving behind her while she stood spellbound, and slipping downward to envelop her soft, warm, full buttocks in cupping fashion. He pulled her to him and once more she felt the hard unbelievable length of him grinding against her pelvis. "I'm human enough. Trouble is ... you don't know what made me the way I am. It isn't important, anyway. What's important is that I want you ... and I know I'm ugly. So ... I have to take you ... to force you. I-I-I'll make a deal with you. You be 'nice' to me and I'll get your kid back for you ... make Antoine accept it. I promise, I will. Girarde is a nothing ... a Ministre of Gouvernment, but a nothing. I'll get the child, I swear it ... if you're nice to me ...""And ... and if I'm not?"His face changed. Before, when he'd spoken of returning Igat, he was almost the man she had come to know. But now ..."I'll completely destroy you and the kid! I swear it! I take an oath on it!" Once more he grabbed her, clutching her to him. "Christ! I want you, pet! I'll give you anything ... just be nice to me. Don't you understand? I've got to have you ...And then, she felt his small pudgy hand moving down her outside thigh, brushing up beneath the skirt of her gown along the nylon-encased column of her smooth, tensed, long leg. Dear God! What was he going to do? Should she scream ... create a scene? She was entrapped! His hand felt hot ... repulsively hot against the frightened, twitching flesh of her thigh, while the other brazenly cupped at her buttocks, holding her firm, unable to move away from his insulting hand. Even so, tiny, unwanted prurient twinges seemed to erupt within her at the attentions of a strange touch, while simultaneously, she fought the vile idea of his lewd suggestion."Please ... please, Uncle Gaston, don't! Please don't ...!""Christ! I've got to. You understand? I've got to have you ...!""No ... No! Please ... I understand ... yes, I understand ... really, I do!" she pleaded and babbled, frantically struggling both physically and mentally, but she was no match for his strength and her brain refused to function in her fear and shame. "L-Let's think about it ... tonight, we'll think about it ... Oh God ...!"His hand reached and played at the tight, concealed portion between her legs where only the narrowest, sheerest strip of nylon protected her secret, sensitive genitals. She felt the knuckle of his hand press the material of her panties between the soft, fleshy lips of her vulva as it stroked again and again into the warm, moistness of her womanhood. She whimpered helplessly. Mother of God, no woman alive could endure such galvanic touches at her most delicate parts without knowing sensation, she swore it. Yet, she was near-overwhelmed with the abasement he was heaping upon her; it could not go on like this! He had to listen to reason!"In heaven's name, Uncle Gaston, you've got to stop! It's not right! Please ... I-I'll never be able look at you again, think of Antoine, if not me ...""I'm thinking of me, damn you!" he hissed at her. "And I'm thinking if you want that kid of yours, you better be nice to me, understand? Nice! Now ... do you want her or not?"Madeleine wagged her head in confusion. She felt the hot tears welling onto her cheeks as he continued to stroke tauntingly at the now trembling, nylon-covered aperture between her legs."Well ...?" he rasped."Yes ... yes ... you know I do! What would you expect? My God, I'm her mother! I want my baby ...""And you'll do anything to get her back?""... Yes ... anything ... I'll do anything! My God ... oh, my little Igat ..."Suddenly, his colorless eyes glowed as if they had been dipped in Satan's fire and he hauled her closer to him, his thick middle-finger slipping inside her elastic panty-leg to ease slowly between the fleshy-fringed lips of her now moistened pussy, moving downward through the velvety, pink slit toward the small quivering vaginal mouth ... then, worming up into her ... ever upward inside her warm, snug channel. She gaped at him during the inserting process ... gaped and gasped in revulsive, helpless humiliation as she felt his thick finger sliding possessively further up into her while she stood as if frozen in horrified disbelief ... and then his thumb began to massage the tiny, soon-erected bud of her clitoris maddeningly. She jerked then, bodily against him, causing her buttocks to spasm and circulate uncontrollably in his other hand, and he said: "I'm going to give you an address and you come there tomorrow. It's downtown ... my special apartment. You fail me, pet ... and both of you will pay ... you and the kid ... understand?"Madeleine tried to answer, but her words bunched in her throat from the unwanted shocking spasms he was causing at her loins, and she could only nod her head jerkingly. Finally, she managed: "I-I under ... stand."Larreau laughed. "Good," he said. "But in the meantime ... I want to play with this ... this delightful little cunt of yours, pet."Madeleine moaned pathetically, at the same time cringing as she sensed his thick finger move further up into her, while his use of the lewd, foul word caused strange, if, undesirable sensations to soar through her quivering body."Oh ... Oh, please ... can't we wait?" she heard herself whine, and even as she spoke she realized in self-abomination that she was moving sensuously upon his penetrating finger, making involuntary, pelvic motions as his finger reached and taunted the snail-like mouth of her womb."Oh God!" she blurted for the hundredth time."It feels good, doesn't it, pet?" Larreau tormented. "You wish to God it didn't, but you can't help yourself, eh? And how would you like to have a nice thick cock right up inside that little cunt at this moment ... filling that round little belly ... shooting its hot load into you, eh? You'd like that ... but you wouldn't admit it, would you ... you hot little bitch ... All right ... I'll wait until tomorrow ... I want to be sure there'll be no interruptions when I fuck you, pet ... no interruptions whatever ... understand?""Y-Y-Yes ... anything you say ...""And now, you belong to me ... is that clear?"Madeleine managed to nod affirmatively. Then, she said: "And ... and you promise about Igat?""Sure ... sure, I promise.""S-She's my baby ... I'll do anything to get her back ... You realize that, don't you?""Of course," he said, his thick finger worming around in and out of her damp, dilated passage now."And ... and you'll help me ... even with making Antoine understand?" she stammered."I told you I would, didn't I?""Oh ... yes ... Oh God ..." she gasped, as vile, tingling sensations began to spread throughout her whole body."Damn!" he hissed, pushing his mouth against hers, his open lips engulfing her soft, wet ones, and then slowly he withdrew his finger from her vagina and she whimpered in the confused, unfulfilled passion he had aroused in her unwanting body. Dear God in heaven, she had to get out of here and think! Merciful Mother, what was she going to do now?And a wicked spasm trembled Gaston Larreau's coarse body.Chapter 2Antoine Poirier was delighted with the way Uncle Gaston had taken to his Madeleine from the very beginning, immediately accepting her and making her feel as one of the family. He was worried for fear that it would not go that way at all. Madeleine not being of the select social class from which his benefactor had insisted he choose a wife when that time came; in fact, hers could hardly be called even the lower middle class, her father being nothing more than a fisherman. It hadn't been an act of defiance on his part, for Lord knows, he felt greatly indebted to this man who had taken him in following the brutal death of his parents, treating him as he might his own son, had there been one, even to giving him the finest of education at McGill University; no, it had simply been love ... of the head-over-heels variety, and upon first sight at that; then, Uncle Gaston had amazed him by understanding.Antoine had found her in a small restaurant where she waited on table and where he took lunch only occasionally, until that day. The rest was inevitable, for as she had told him some two weeks later when he asked her to become his wife, she had loved him from the first moment she saw him. Her lack of formal education, or the fact that she came from poor peasant stock, nothing could have been of less importance to him; her exotic beauty stunned him; she had only to smile that first time and he was completely lost. Even Annette ... snippy, audacious, envenomed Annette ... even she had taken to her immediately, and from the first moment Uncle Gaston had laid eyes on her he had done little more than smile his pleasure.Of course, the proof of Uncle Gaston's acceptance had come when he'd asked Madeleine to act as family hostess at these Friday night affairs, and he, Antoine, could barely contain his own elation ... even now, as he watched her graceful movements beside his Uncle, the powerful little man holding affectionately to her hand, and the manner in which she conducted herself in the presence of Montreal's most elite ... as if she had been born to it ... filled him with pride and love. God, if only he didn't have this other worry, he thought.Uncle Gaston had assured him a dozen times that there was nothing to get upset about, but just the idea of Ottawa sending officials over to look at the company books and records had upset him considerably. He couldn't help it; after all, Galaxy Mining, Ltd. was his responsibility, and because Uncle Gaston had entrusted him with its helm he felt more accountable than ever. He had worried himself to the point where he could hardly sleep nights, and of course, the whole thing was having an effect on his and Madeleine's personal lives. Their love-making had become little more than a series of abortive attempts at sex on his part, filling his Madeleine with unsated frustrations, he felt certain, and God Almighty, he didn't know what to do about it.She was such a vibrant, voluptuous creature; he had only to look at her even in her clothes to feel immediate stimulation and a stirring at his loins, but to enjoy the enchanting vision of her magnificent young body in the rich splendor of nakedness was enough to set him off like a rutting bull. It seemed at those times he had no control whatever over himself, that nothing mattered only plunging his aching penis into her tantalizing flesh and emptying his life-giving sperm into her. He just couldn't seem to contain his lust, even though he invariably hated himself after and would sincerely vow that it would be different next time ... yet, wonderful, loving person that she was, she would smile understandingly and forgive him. Nevertheless, he felt certain that his constant failures were straining their yet-to-be-seasoned relationship and he laid the whole damned mess to this Ottawa investigation business ... whatever that was all about.Now, as he watched them moving among the guests, Madeleine looked his way and smiled. A warmth crept over him and he responded with a slight pursing of his lips that she would understand ... a symbolic kiss. It was at that moment that Ginny Novak joined him, taking his arm fondly and brushing one soft, full breast against it."Darling, I've been looking for you," she said for greeting, smiling radiantly up into his face."Really? I've been right here," he said, always aroused by the suggestive tiny lights that seemed to be forever dancing in her sea-green eyes. As always, she'd had a bit too much to drink and her attractive face reflected it in the slackness about her wide, full mouth and the slight glaze to her eyes. Her usually upswept, perfectly coiffured blonde-hair showed tattle-tale wild strands also, and when she spoke there was just the hint of thickness to her tongue."I've been in the playroom sampling the bourbon," she said, giving his arm a little squeeze and once pressing her full, ripe breast against him. "I was hoping you might wander back and sample some with me. We might even've gotten into a game of billiards ... or something."Antoine smiled. Her words, her gestures, her every move was suggestive of sex, and had been since the first day she had walked into this house on the arm of Uncle Gaston better than a year ago, replacing his former mistress. Her capacity had been obvious, her duties nil ... except to cater to the master's personal and private needs ... whatever they might be. Antoine only knew that he didn't blame his Uncle; after all, he was human and Aunt Yolande had been ill for at least a dozen years; a man had to have a woman, and Ginny Novak was very much that.He, himself, had never touched her sexually ... had hardly ever laid a hand upon her, but in all honesty he had wanted to many times, and from her actions ... just the way she would hang onto him, or brush her breasts against him teasingly as she was doing right at that moment, he felt certain that she would be receptive. But once again, his loyalty to the man who had befriended and raised him would never permit him to commit such an act. Ginny Novak was his uncle's toy, and although Antoine too-often could barely tolerate the little man's cruel and abusive treatment of her in public, he bit his lip and kept his place. After all, if she didn't like it, she could always go back to the States where she came from.Now, as he watched her, she looked about the room until her eyes found what they sought."Ah, so there the little czar is," she said with obvious distaste. "And with your Madeleine, of course.""Of course ...? Why do you say it like that?" Antoine questioned, her derisive tone provoking him."Did I say it wrong? I'm sorry, Darling. Probably just the natural, unrefined farmer coming out in me. Nothing more crude than a half-drunk, corn-fed girl, they say."Antoine grinned and she moved around until her back was to Uncle Gaston and Madeleine, then he saw the almost immediate, serious expression that sobered her attractive face. It surprised and puzzled him simultaneously."What is it?" he heard himself question. "Is something wrong, Ginny?""We must go someplace where we can talk," she replied in a voice above a whisper. "It's terribly important to you, Antoine ...""What is it?""We can't discuss it here," she insisted, "too dangerous.""But ... I don't understand ...""Wait ..." she said, turning slowly, her loose little smile returning once more as she pretended to look dazedly across the room. Then, he felt her hand tightening on his arm, and she said: "Look, they're leaving the room ... now we can slip out ..."Antoine watched his Uncle leading Madeleine toward the central hall and felt a moment of confusion. "Where the devil are they going?""Probably to the front sitting room," Ginny lied. "There're some guests in there, too. Please, now come with me."She gave him little chance to refuse, ushering him by the arm through the doorway that led to the servants' corridor and back toward the playroom."Look, Ginny ... I don't understand," Antoine said, resisting, but not enough to slow her anxious pace. "What's so damned important that we couldn't talk about it back there?""Plenty, Darling," she half-whispered as they entered the near-darkened playroom and she closed the door quietly behind them. "In fact, I'm not going to tell it all to you here, either. It's too dangerous ... could even mean my neck ...""Your neck? Good God, what're you trying to say, girl?" he snapped, his accent broadening his English in irritation.Ginny Novak eased in close to him, both hands suddenly clutching at the muscles of his arms. She looked up into his face, her own expression one of taut seriousness. "Listen to me," she almost hissed, her lovely eyes probing the depths of his own irked and questioning ones, "that filthy uncle of yours is working at hanging you. And unless you do something about it awfully damned quick, it's going to be too late.""Wh-What? Look ... what the hell are you talking about, anyway?" Antoine rapped, angrily trying to shed her hands from his arms. "Is that what you brought me back here for? To malign Uncle Gaston? Christ, what kind of girl are you? You sleep with him, eat his food, drink his liquor ... and too damned much of that by the way you're talking ...""Stop it!" she hissed vehemently. "Stop and listen to me you stupid, naive idiot! Galaxy Mining, Ltd. is in trouble with the government. I overheard a conversation between Gaston and his attorney, Robert Jovell, this afternoon on the telephone. I heard Gaston say something to the effect that he'd been expecting it ... it had to come sooner or later, but that he wasn't worried, they couldn't touch him ... the whole operation was in your name! Now ... do you still think I'm trying to malign that noble bastard?"Antoine was stunned. He stared down at her, hardly seeing her. Of course, it was all ridiculous. Either she had misinterpreted whatever it was she'd heard, or she was making the whole thing up for reasons of her own. Certainly, Uncle Gaston would never do anything that would reflect on him, Antoine, let alone making him some sort of scapegoat that might wind him up in prison. The whole idea was preposterous!"I-I don't know what you're trying to do," he spat at her, "but whatever it is you're wasting your time. My advice is that you lay off the liquor and get yourself out of here as soon as you can. It looks to me like you've overstayed your welcome."With that, he tried to get around her, but she quickly backed to the door and stood against it, momentarily preventing his leaving. Her usual dancing, suggestive eyes narrowed in her own anger, and although the scintillating lights continued to enliven them, they were now tiny explosions of rage."You are a stupid ass, Antoine Poirier! I don't know why in hell I should be putting my head on the chopping block for you ... but here I am! Now you listen to me, damn you; what I've told you is truth! You can do whatever you want about it, I don't care. This much I can tell you, that little gargoyle you call 'uncle' is a vile monster, and he doesn't care anymore about you than he does one of his lovely prostitutes who has to kick in a third of her earnings so that he can live in the style he's become accustomed to. And as far as overstaying my welcome, M'sieu', I'd be out of here in two minutes if I dared ... but you know what would happen to me if I tried? I'd be dead! That's right, dead!" Suddenly, a mean little smile stretched her pretty mouth. "I hope to God you don't think I'm here because I want to be? You'd have to be out of your mind to believe that. I'm here because that foul bastard won me in a poker game from a stateside hood just like him ... a gambler named Lou "The Ace" Fennell ... and you don't run away from their kind of scum ... you merely deteriorate into a common whore to provide their bread and butter when they're finished with you ... or you [CENSOR] yourself ... You pays your money, and you takes your choice."Antoine stared at her as if his eyes were glued upon her paled, anger-lined face. Every word she spoke had registered, and abruptly, he realized her sincerity. Whether there was any accuracy in what she had said pertaining to Galaxy Mining and Uncle Gaston abandoning him, was still questionable in his mind, but her own position, he suddenly found himself not doubting for a moment. Almost instantly, his heart went out to her, and when he saw the little tears trickling down her cheeks he couldn't help himself. He opened his arms and she burst inside them with a sob."There, there," he whispered into her ear as she cried against his chest, the scent of her hair filling his nostrils as she clung to him and he held her, smoothing his hand down her back, caressing the silken material of her gown to feel the soft flesh and indentation of her barely perceptible spine beneath. Her full, pointed breasts dug into his chest, while the little round bowl of her belly rested snugly beneath his own, and as he held her, she inched tighter against him until her warm, full thighs clung tightly to his hard, lean ones, and her pelvis and belly ground against, and shared the length of his stiffening cock.She raised her face to him then, her wet full mouth falling open ... and he kissed her. Her arms encircled his neck and her mouth clung to his hungrily. Almost subconsciously, his tongue slid between her opened lips and teeth and she softly began to suck on it, drawing it deeper and deeper into the warm moist cavern toward her throat as her soft, vibrant loins began to rotate against his already throbbing prick in tiny little stimulating circles. He gasped into her mouth, his long, sinewy hands dropping to cup at her soft, yet firm, hollowing buttocks so full and round in his grasp, and she pressed even tighter against him.Eventually, they separated for a breath, and he said: "I-I didn't know, Cheri .... I-I had no idea why you stayed with him ... the way he treated you ... I used to wonder why you put up with it ... God ... I've wanted you so bad a thousand times ..."She whimpered at his words and he felt the vibrations of sound against him more than he heard it. Her mouth searched for his and he kissed her again, this time, tasting the deliciousness of her tiny tongue as it darted forward between his lips."Oh Darling," she hissed, "we must make love. I've wanted you for so long, too. But we have to be careful. He'd [CENSOR] us if he found out.""He won't find out ... nobody but you and I will know," Antoine assured her, his hands caressing and stroking her back and buttocks covetously now, the soft, warm resilience of her flesh causing his hardening penis to throb vigorously between them."I can feel you so hot and hard and excited against me," she whispered. "God, how I'd love to take it out right here ... right now, and suck it until it pumped its love sperm down my throat.""Christ! Don't talk that way or I'll come right in my pants," he smiled, but said in a harsh, whispering voice. "I want those things too, but we have to find a place. We can't do anything here ...""I know," she interrupted excitedly. "The summer house at Ste. Agathe des Monts. We can go there ... tomorrow, Darling."He thought about it briefly. It seemed safe enough. Uncle Gaston wouldn't be opening it for a mouth ... not until July. The idea intrigued him. Christ, he had to have her now, after this; there was no turning away from it any longer. He had to fuck her!"All right. Tomorrow around two. I'll meet you there, Cheri. Are you sure you can get away without suspicion?""Yes, I'm certain of it ... but it wouldn't make any difference. I'd come to make love to you even if I had to bring an audience.""Damn!" he gasped, and kissed her once more.Then, she eased back away from him and he read the concerned expression on her face. "Please, Darling," she whispered. "You must listen to what I've told you. Galaxy Mines is in great danger ... and that puts you in great danger. I don't know to what extent but maybe I'll hear more tonight and be able to tell you tomorrow.""I'm not worried about that," he lied. "I'm more concerned about how I'm going to get you away from all this.""Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. What's important is that you take care of Madeleine and yourself. I know this evil man better than you, Darling. I know him at his vilest, bedroom self ... and that's where you really come to know a man's mettle.""But I can't believe he would do anything to hurt me. I-It's just impossible to believe. I mean, after all, I'm like his own son ...""Oh Darling, please ... You must try to understand the type of man he is," she almost begged him. "I realize why you've closed your eyes to these things ... because he has been like a father to you. But in God's name, don't blind yourself entirely. He's the warlord over crime in Canada ... and you must know about his connections with the syndicate ...""Yes, yes, I know all of that," Antoine replied, not looking at her now as he fished out a cigarette and lighted it. Then, suddenly looking at her, he said: "But I'm not just a ... a relative to him ... I'm like his very own flesh and blood. He's raised me, Cheri, clothed, fed and educated me. No, Christ, I can't believe it! He just couldn't do anything to hurt me ...""Unless ..." she whispered."Unless? Unless what?""Unless ... it becomes a matter of your neck ... or his ..."She reached him at that point. Antoine stood very still and dragged at his cigarette. In his mind, he was endeavoring to evaluate Galaxy's situation. It occurred to him that he had never actually seen the mines in Alberta or the Yukon; Uncle Gaston had not thought that necessary. His task was to see that the ever-increasing stockholders received favorable dividends and that the Board of Directors met once a month, with quarterly reports being sent out on the day to all investors. Should there ever be a shortage of cash to meet dividend payments, he was to immediately report it to his Uncle so that whatever the deficit might be it could be made up. Investors don't like to be informed of non-dividend quarters, Antoine, he'd said to him once. So, even if it hurts, and we have to take it from other enterprises, we'll keep them happy, eh?He questioned the illegality of it then, but the powerful little man had merely laughed.Don't you worry about illegality, young man. That's my department. You just take care of board meetings and that cute little wife of yours, eh? She looks to me as if she might require lots of loving.And then, he'd laughed, vulgarly, a little too vulgarly, Antoine had thought, biting his own tongue to keep from saying something he might later be sorry for ..."Darling ... do you understand what I've been trying to tell you?" Ginny questioned, moving close to him once more."I-I ... I've got to think," he said, walking to a table and stubbing out his cigarette."About me?"He went to her quickly, enfolding her into his arms once more. "Hell no ... not about you, Cheri. You've haunted my mind for a year now." He kissed her. "Look, we have to get out of here ... get back to the party before we're missed.""Yes, I know. Tomorrow then ... at the summer place?""At the summer place ... I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world.""Oh ... Oh Darling," she moaned, kissing him a last time. "I wish I was twenty-one instead of twenty-nine ... I wish I'd never known a man before you ...""Funny," he said, grinning down at her, "I'm glad that you're twenty-nine ... and more happy that you've known other men. Now, I'm going to get the benefit of all that experience ... and it better be good.""Whatever it is, it'll be for you and you alone.""We'll see," he teased."Yes," she whispered, "we'll see ..."Chapter 3Madeleine could not sleep. She lay restless in the large bed of their expensive Ville de Hampstead apartment, waiting for Antoine to join her. He had wanted a nightcap, but she had been too upset and had gone straight to bed. Now, she could hear the soft music from the tape-deck and visualized him sitting in his favorite chair with his feet up on the ottoman, comfortably stretched out and leisurely enjoying a scotch ... entertaining no idea in this world of the abhorrent secret she must now live with.Her brain whirled in her still-shamed, utter debasement. Again, she had failed this proud young man she loved so much, and this time, there could be no forgiveness. If only she had told him of Igat in the beginning, bared her soul to him ... made a clean breast of it. He'd loved her ... would probably have understood, but now ... it was too late. Dear God, how could she tell him now without laying the whole sordid story before him ... yes, even the way Uncle Gaston had forced his salacious attentions on her? She couldn't, not without revealing the whole despicable truth. Yet, if she didn't turn to her Antoine for help, where could she go?There had been time to think since leaving the party, and once out of Larreau's horrible, dominating presence, Madeleine realized she could not keep their wicked appointment the next day; she just couldn't give herself to that foul beast ... yet, if she didn't, he had threatened to bring harm to both Igat and herself. She didn't care about herself ... but her baby ... her baby meant more than anything in the whole world.Dear Antoine ... Antoine ... please come and help me? I need you so badly. Help me tell you my dreaded secret this very night ... Be understanding ... forgiving ... and take us away from here before some terrible thing happens to all of us through that evil man.Quietly, Madeleine prayed for guidance and strength while she awaited the moment Antoine would join her. She must tell him about Igat ... she must! Perhaps she should hold back the horrid secret of Uncle Gaston's outrageous act, for to tell Antoine that would only serve to rile the troubled waters even more so. Certainly, it could serve no other purpose than to arouse hatred ... even vengeance of some nature, and God knows, she didn't want to strain their relationship any more than it was at this time, when they were yet to truly know each other, in love.Once more, she began to toss restlessly on the bed. Why didn't he come now? At this moment she felt certain she could tell everything from the very beginning and make him realize. Yes, she would even tell him about M. Keel, the first iniquitous brute to bring her heartbreak. It was the only way ... recount it all in full ... everything and pray to God that he would try to understand.Now, as she waited, her mind began to fill with unwanted memories, and she recalled how she had run away in the night from Mont Du Bane, the small fishing village of her birth on the Peninsule De Gaspe, escaping, she had felt, with the American named Keel, a salesman who passed that way twice a year to sell goods to M. Bidette, le Garde-Magasin.Four years ago, she remembered, but the bitter reveries were as vivid in her mind as if they had taken place yesterday. She had been sixteen, nearly seventeen, the fourth of nine children and by far the prettier of her three sisters, she knew. She recalled that even at twelve, when she had begun to develop her pubescent charms, the opposite sex had always been strongly attracted to her, especially the older men, and she had been pleased, taking pride in her long black hair and the hygiene of her teeth, realizing that if she were ever to be liberated from the destined weary bondage of becoming a fisherman's wife, these were the assets upon which she would have to trade.The day she had met the American she was physically ripe, a sensually alluring young woman, while he was somewhere in his aging fifties. She had only to smile at him coquettishly to see his small eyes come alive with lecherous excitement, and as she tripped provocatively from M. Bidette's store she felt certain he would follow.It was difficult to remember all the little lurid details now, even, difficult to recall his features ... only a faceless, grey-haired, fat man ... taller and bigger than Uncle Gaston in every respect, but certainly his parallel in villainy, she realized now. And how upset she'd been at first when she decided that he wasn't going to follow her, but by the time she'd reached the edge of the village he had come along in his car and offered her a ride.She hadn't hesitated; instead, she'd climbed in and began an immediate conversation. He spoke French, which had made it that much easier for her to play the flirt with him, and when he'd reached over placing his big, heavy, hair-covered hand on her knee she had pretended at being excitedly flustered, while in truth her flesh had recoiled at his touch and she'd winced repugnantly within her flat little belly."N-Not here ... not here," she'd insisted, catching at his hand and noticing the obscene bulge to the front of his trousers where his pumpkinlike stomach adjoined his groin. "There's no place here where we won't be seen ...""Where, then?" he'd rasped, his licentious, bloodshot eyes raking her young curvaceous body hungrily."There's no safe place around here," she'd answered him quickly. "And if we were caught my father would [CENSOR] you ..."Suddenly, he'd pulled off to the side of the dirtroad, his arms enveloping her and his thick lips engulfing hers, wetly, voraciously, sucking her small mouth into his own like a vacuum cleaner. She'd tried to struggle, but his surprise lunge had caused a frightened wave of dizziness to overwhelm her and momentarily she'd thought she would faint. He'd held her so tight that the breath had rushed out of her, and even now she could not remember whether he was deceivingly strong, or she unexplainably weak. His tongue had burst into her mouth like a slimy, wet eel, exploring, brushing obscenely around the inside. She had been nearly overcome with his odor of sweat and cologne, and his massive anomalous body easily subdued her own."No, no, no!" she'd insisted. "Let me go ... Later! Later!"She'd fought him furiously, until at last, he'd seemed to regain control of himself and listen."What ... later? What'd you mean?" he grunted, breathing heavily into her face.She had bit at her lower lip. "I want you to take me away with you."He'd stared at her. "Away with me ...?""Yes. I want to go to Boston. If you'll take me with you ... then ... then I'll let you ... do things to me."He had continued to gape at her, his hungry, red-rimmed eyes growing more gluttonous with lust at each passing second. "All right ... all right, tonight. We'll go tonight," he'd said, perspiration dribbling down his heavy jowls. "Yes, by God ... tonight!"She would have done anything to get away from the decaying hovel of her parents, the absurd poverty of the village, and the inevitable arranged marriage to come. God, she remembered, she had only to look upon the drudge who was her mother, a woman unbelievably aged beyond her thirty-five years to find justification in the way she had run off.Keel had told her he was not married; she hadn't believed him. Anyway, that had been unimportant; all that mattered was getting to Boston where she could meet a nice American boy and marry him. How many nights she'd dreamed such fantasies ... a pretty little house with flowers around it, an automobile of their own, and perhaps one, two, even three babies, depending, of course, upon what her husband would want; and a wardrobe of three or four plain dresses, with as many beautiful ones for best ... for this was the way with American husbands, she'd been certain, having seen the pictures and read of their love and generosity in the old copies of magazines Docteur Laprise kept in his waiting room.So, she'd left the note to her mother, saying little except that she was sorry, and that one day she would return to make them all proud of her ... and Grace a Dieu for M. Keel, for she wanted her parents to believe that he was a noble man doing this for her out of the goodness of his heart.A noble man ... indeed ... Yet, at first, he'd been extremely kind, performing all the simple things to please her, taking her into restaurants where they were served hot-beef sandwiches after the soup-of-the-day, then little pastries for dessert. She had never known such luxury, and before the first day was over she had convinced herself that she'd misjudged him, and vowed not to show the slightest sign of offense when he put his big hand on her thigh outside her dress as they drove along, or when he playfully squeezed and fondled her firm young breasts at every opportunity ... but she shortly had learned that her first opinion was very much correct. M. Keel was a vile brute!However, she recalled now, that before ever realizing the extent of his evilness, she'd convinced herself to willingly carry out her part of their bargain. A girl had to be prepared to pay a price for such an extravagant life as she sought ... an American husband ... living in the States ... and all of the little luxuries that were actually considered necessities in that great country ... besides, it was not as if she had never known Jean Louis Blanchette, son of the avocat who had lived upon the hill and who was betrothed to Docteur Laprise's daughter, Francine. Jean Louis had punched away her virginity with his stubby little penis, and together they had discovered many exciting things in the ways of love, but with him it had been so titillating and romantic, while Keel had made her nausee even with the numbing of the wine ...He had registered them into a seedy motel at Riviere du Loup even before the sun had set ... had bought wine and poured into the cloudy tumblers that set in a tray on the scarred bureau before removing his coat. Then, he'd smiled and said: "Take off your things, my dear. This is home."She'd made a |
