Possessed by Kira Saito

respectable enough to blend in with the fabulously
wealthy.”
    “ Why?”
    He shrugged but didn’t say
anything.
    “ How did you feel when you
changed bodies? How did it feel?” I didn’t know how to ask what I
wanted to ask.
    “ You know those people on TV
who get all these extreme makeovers and go on crazy diets hoping
that it’ll somehow give them what they’re looking for and solve all
of their problems?”
    I nodded.
    “ I got the biggest makeover
of my life and it didn’t solve a damn thing. Nothing.”
    “ Do you ever wonder whose
body that is? Have you tried to figure it out?”
    “ Does it really matter? Your
soul still remembers the abuse it’s been through. There’s no
erasing that. It follows you around.”
    “ You still feel like a
slave, don’t you?” I whispered. “You don’t feel good enough…Inside
you feel empty and disappointed. That’s why you’re always so
angry.”
    He sighed. “You should really ask for a
refund on those online psychology courses you’re taking. They
aren’t helping any, queen.”
     
    “ Why are we here?” I asked
again. This time I forced myself to make eye contact with
him.
    He smiled widely and slowly ran his
fingers through his hair. “I already told you, I swear you don’t
listen. We’re having dinner.”
    “ I swear you don’t listen, I
don’t want dinner.”
    He grabbed my hand and pulled me
towards the door. “You’re so stubborn. Of course you want to have
dinner with me.”
     
     
     

Chapter 14
    Dinner at the St. Charles
Hotel
     
    “ Isn’t this just
magnificent?” asked Ivan in that sarcastic tone of his, as we stood
in the middle of a vast and extravagant dining hall.
    What I saw was beyond magnificent. It
was absolutely breathtaking and grandiose. I never thought I’d ever
use the word grandiose but that’s exactly what it was. Three long
dining tables sat in the middle of the spacious room while five
gigantic and impressively ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling
and bathed the room in a soft and merry glow. Laughter and Verdi
mingled with conversations about stocks and the latest Parisian
fashions.
    Hundreds of beautiful women in
exquisitely embellished ball gowns and finely detailed jewelry
seductively sipped champagne. Each dress was more stunning than the
next and each woman more lovely than the other. If Sabrina were
there she would have freaked. They swirled around me with
effortless grace and beauty while groups of well-dressed, handsome
men hovered around them and tried to win their attention. It was an
enchanted fairytale that consisted of soft lights, pretty colors
and dazzling jewels.
    Long white candles illuminated the
endless number of succulent dishes that occupied the tables. My
mouth literally started to water at the irresistible arrangement of
food. The scent of butter, stewed tomatoes and rich broths lingered
in the air and for a split second I forgot where I was and who I
was with. Why was I so easily distracted? Focus, Arelia, forget
about the food.
    “ I see you drooling, queen.
The food in this place is prepared by a maître de cuisine from
Paris,” he said, as he grabbed a menu from a nearby waiter and
handed it to me.
    Out of sheer curiosity I took the menu
from him; which, by the way, was the size of a newspaper; and
glanced through it: Snails Bourguignon, Ailerons de dindon au
celeri, Stuffed crabs, Fried oysters, Creole Onion Soup, crawfish
court bouillon, shrimp etouffee. My mouth started to water as I
read through the seemingly endless list.
    “ I thought you weren’t
hungry,” said Ivan, as he eyed me.
    “ Well since you insist on
feeding me, who am I to argue?” I felt so cool and collected saying
those words. In reality, my palms were sweaty and I had a sinking
feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t foolish enough to think
that we were there just for dinner.
    I had vowed never to underestimate Ivan
again and I had no intention of doing, so but letting him know I
was terrified