‘I am pussy cat,’ she replied silkily, staring seductively into his eyes as she pressed her breasts against his chest. ‘But I have sharp claw,’ she added, casting a sly glance back at Irena. ‘And I will fight for what I want.’

‘Yeah, well, you can save all that for later,’ Karel chuckled.

Nick walked in behind them, and smirked when he saw the murderous look on Irena’s face. Glaring at him, she turned her back and unwrapped the huge slab of beef she’d bought at the supermarket.

‘Leave that,’ Karel said when she slapped the meat down on the chopping board. ‘I’ve got a job for you.’

‘It need to go in oven, or it will not be tender for dinner,’ she replied tersely.

‘I said leave it,’ he repeated, dropping the arm from around Viktorya’s waist.

Irena stopped what she was doing and turned round when he walked over to her. The blank expression she’d perfected was firmly in place, but Frank could tell she was nervous when he saw the vein pulsing in her throat.

‘What you want me do?’ she asked.

‘Not me, Abdul,’ he said, brushing the hair back off her face and looping it behind her ear. ‘He’s asked for you, so go get changed and wait for him in the bedroom.’

Irena’s cheeks had been flushed, but every ounce of colour had now drained out of them, and her eyes widened.

‘No . . .’ she croaked, shaking her head. ‘Please do not make me do this, Karel.’

‘Aw, sweetheart,’ he crooned, making her flinch when he raised his hand and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘You know I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to, but he’s asked for you, so what can I do?’

‘Send her,’ Irena said, jerking her chin up at Viktorya. ‘She is younger and prettier. He will prefer her.’

‘He wants you,’ Nick piped up, using his knife to slice open one of the boxes of wine Frank had carried in. ‘And you’re getting on a bit now, so you should be flattered he’s still willing to pay for it.’

‘Karel, please,’ Irena implored, ignoring Nick. ‘I will do anything you ask of me, but not this.’

To the side, Frank stared at Irena as Nick’s words sank in. So that was why she accepted the shit Karel threw at her, he realized. The story she’d told him – about being tricked into coming to England and forced into prostitution – had been true. Karel owned her, just like he owned the other girls, and the partial freedom she’d gained from being his woman was infinitely preferable to being forced to sleep with multiple strangers.