Mabel Shot Part 5

I climb the stairs with her in silence, discarding the initial idea that it was Sieta who was in the library with Mr. Gregovivk. I hear Sieta chattering as we walk down the hallway, while the strong smell of smoke I picked up makes me think about who else could have been here. I don't know much about him, to be honest, aside from the few bits of information Mr. Gregovivk shared, which don’t really tell me much.
“What does Mr. Gregovivk actually do, Sieta?” I ask quietly, looking at her back as she shrugs.
“Greg is versatile; his mind doesn’t let him rest much.”
“What do you mean?” I pay closer attention to her.
“Let’s just say if Greg were a character in a movie, he’d be Skynet.” She laughs and turns to me. “That brain of his can cause a lot of trouble just by deciphering motherboard codes or hacking into private computers.”
“He works with digital information?”
“Let’s say that. He does some freelance work, under the radar, you know?” She turns to look at me, and I slowly nod, understanding what she means.
Now it makes sense how he knew Boris was embezzling money from the gallery. Mr. Gregovivk hacked into the company’s accounting system.
“Your room is right here.” She smiles at me and stops in front of a door at the end of a long corridor.
I look more closely now at the path we’ve taken and realize I haven’t been here before. The only hallway I knew led to the erotic dungeon. Sieta opens the door and gestures for me to enter, smiling.
“If you think it’s too small, just let me know, and I’ll find you another one right away,” Sieta says behind me as I step inside and stand still, completely lost in the center of the room.
I don’t understand what would be a measure of large or small in her eyes, as the room she presents as mine is bigger than my apartment and the previous room where I woke up. The floor is covered with a red tapestry, highlighting the rustic wooden furniture. I see the enormous bed, which I think I’ll practically have to climb to get into. I admire the structure of the furniture, made by an excellent carpenter who transformed something that should be simple into a work of art by building a gigantic four-poster bed with dark, shiny wood that emphasizes the craftsmanship. The other pieces of furniture in the room, both the two-door wardrobe and the dresser with an embedded mirror, showcase the same richness of craftsmanship as the bed. If I thought for a second the bed was extravagant, the fireplace in the corner of the room tells me this is nothing. I notice the orange wallpaper that covers the room's walls, letting my attention linger on the large balcony. A double door to the left is open, and the light beige curtains flutter in the breeze, filling the room with light. The space itself is so beautiful that it makes me feel like I’ve stepped out of our century and returned to the medieval era.
“Over there is the bathroom.” Sieta walks around the room and passes by me, pointing to the right. “Christ, I forgot the damn window was open; this room is freezing!” she exclaims, irritated, and walks over to it.
She closes the balcony door and turns around, giving me a big, wide smile.
“So, what do you think of it?” Her voice is cheerful, asking so happily that I can’t help but think I might hurt her feelings if I tell her I find it extremely extravagant, given its size and ostentation, just for me to stay for a few days until the game is over.
“I think it’s very pretty,” I murmur, returning her warm smile, though not as animated as hers, keeping my thoughts to myself.
“Wonderful!” She claps her hands together and rubs her palms, walking toward me.
She laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, pointing to the wardrobe. “I took the liberty of putting your things away.”
I walk slowly over to the wardrobe and open it, seeing my clothes inside, my perfumes neatly arranged on the left shelf.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Sieta.” I shrug and turn to her, closing the wardrobe door. “I could have organized everything myself without bothering you even more.”
“It’s all the same to me; I don’t mind. On the contrary, I like it when Greg asks for my help.” She glances around the room and then looks at me. “It makes him more human.”
I see the affection she has for him reflected in her eyes and the loyalty overflowing in every word that comes out of her mouth.
“Is it usually you who does this for him?” I move my fingers between myself and the wardrobe. “Helping him with his submissives?”
“What submissives?” She laughs, looking at me curiously.
“The ones from Sodom…” I say, embarrassed, not understanding her outburst of laughter.
“Oh God, no!” She shakes her head. “Greg doesn’t bring them here; he’s never brought one of those women to his house. The girls who come looking for him in Sodom, the farthest they’ve gotten is the game room at the club. My cousin doesn’t have any personal involvement with anyone—well, not until…”
“The game?” I hug myself and suck the inside of my cheek. “The girls who play Sodom with him are the ones who came here…”
“No, Mabel, I think you misunderstood.” Sieta stands up and smiles, shaking her head as she walks toward me. “Czar doesn’t bring any girls into this house; you’re the first woman to invade his sanctuary…”
My mind struggles to process what I’ve just heard. If Czar doesn’t let other women in, then why does he have a private game room?
“I’m not sure I understand…” My eyes scan the large room, realizing it was clearly built with the intention of accommodating a woman. “This room, the game room…”
“When Czar built this place years ago, it was meant to be his home and his companion’s.” She looks around, tapping her toes on the ground. “He’s from Sodom, but just because of that, it doesn’t mean he’s never imagined getting married…”
“Did he build this house for someone special?” I keep staring at the bed as Sieta walks around the room, studying it.
“I don’t think so, even that brat Gaile spreading it around that it was for her.”
“Gaile?” My gaze lifts, and I look at her.
Sieta hesitates, looking at me as if she’s considering whether to continue with the topic.
“He’s going to kill me if he finds out I told you this, and besides, you have to get to work.” She purses her lips, glancing toward the door.
“I’m already late, and from what I understand, I’m in a meeting with Mr. Gregovivk. An hour more or less won’t make a difference to my lateness for work today, Sieta.” I step forward, placing myself in her line of sight, looking at her anxiously.
“I still don’t know if it’s a good idea…” She bites her lip and puts her hands behind her back. “There are things Greg doesn’t like me to share about him…”
“I was practically thrown out of my apartment and brought here without my knowledge. I think it would be fair for me to know something, for a change!”
“Good argument, little bird!” She snaps the corner of her mouth. “But still…”
“Sieta, please tell me. Who was she? Was Gaile Mr. Gregovivk’s girlfriend?”
“No!” she responds softly, shaking her head. “Gaile was his first submissive.” Sieta walks over to the bed and sits down again. “My uncle introduced the two; that’s how he figured out which of his sons would inherit his seat on the council. Czar knew how to make Gaile submit.”
I walk slowly and sit beside her. I rest my hands on the mattress and tap my feet gently on the floor, looking at the carpet.
“Greg and she were perfect together, to the point that it was sometimes irritating,” Sieta says, laughing. “When the game was invented by Jonathan Roy, one of the council members from Australia, Greg and Gaile were the first Sodom couple to test it. They played for real, isolating themselves in an abandoned hospital…”
I remember the story Macro told about the girl who became addicted to Czar, and my eyes widen as I look at Sieta.
“What happened to her after the game?”
“The two kept playing even after the hospital, so much so that it was because of them that they invented the safe word,” Sieta explains, laughing and shrugging her shoulders.
“Gomorrah,” I murmur, recalling the word Mr. Gregovivk told me was the key to ending the game.
“That’s right. They were having so much sex that she actually lost consciousness. Greg panicked, thinking he had killed Gaile.” Sieta stops laughing, her expression turning serious. “The council then established Gomorrah, as a joke about Sodom. But Gomorrah doesn’t just end the game; it cuts off the bond the master has over the submissive.”
Sieta lets out a big sigh, clapping her hands on her thighs before turning to me.