He was, Tessa felt, of her own kind in a way. Gross and repulsive the big black man Myton certainly was but, in a way she empathised with him. He was forceful and commanding, knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to back up his beliefs. That similarity was the only one though and in all other ways she despised him. He would though secretly admire her for standing up to him that she felt sure, judging by the way his men bowed and scraped before him few dared defy him she guessed.
She sat in the corner of the bare room at the back of the villa, looking up to the barred window and at the bright sunlight outside. She had cried herselfdry, had rubbed at her stinging backside to soothe it and had done all of the questioning as to why they had chosen her. Now a cold calmness filled her,
