CHAPTER TWELVE
2036 Words
Double the trouble, triple the weapons.
CAMERON
“Fiancée” I blurt before I can stop myself. “I’m his fiancée not his wife.”
Heaven knows why I feel the need to make that clarification when there’s a gun pointed in my face.
Obviously Earl thinks the same too because he frowns at me, brows raised.
It’s a frown that says Seriously, right now?
And in response I give him one of my own telling him I could care less what he thinks.
His brother who still has me pinned to the wall takes note of our silent exchange and his frown deepens.
It’s one thing to find out your brother might have a secret wife.
It’s another thing to see them communicating without words.
I see the emotions wash over his face in waves.
Disbelief, anger and betrayal narrowing his dark eyes and even darker features.
When I first saw Earl Salvatore, I thought he was a one off.
There couldn’t be that many men running around, looking like him, or the women of the world would be in trouble.
But apparently I was very wrong.
Earl’s brother looks almost exactly like him.
The same jawline and sharp features.
The same broad shoulders and rock hard musculature visible even through his black button up shirt.
But yet, in all their similarities, they also could not have looked less alike.
And it isn’t just the fact that while Earl keeps his hair short, his brother has allowed his to grow longer, curling in strands at the back of neck and falling nearly into his eyes.
Or the fact that there’s a tiny scar above the brother’s right brow.
It’s something else.
A frightening hardness to his brother’s stare that Earl doesn’t seem to have.
It makes me shiver, a bead of sweat rolling down my back.
I tell myself that’s why I’m finding it difficult to breathe.
That the racing of my heart has nothing to do with this man’s chest pressed against mine or those liquid brown eyes glaring down at me.
That it has everything to do with the gun being pointed at me.
Behind him, Earl steps towards us, hands in his pockets.
“Let her go, Nikolas.”
The way he says it, so flat and bored, scratching at the side of his head with one finger, you would think there isn’t a gun being held against my head.
His brother, who I now know is called Nikolas, looms over me like a fierce, frightening statue, his eyes blazing with accusation.
I stand tall, my back still pressed against the study door, trying to hide the tremble in my closed fists, even though I can hear the sound of my own heart beating itself to a pulp in my chest.
Nikolas, despite his brother’s demands, doesn't step away.
Instead he stares down at me, his chest rising and falling softly.
I had expected cold disinterest or at most disbelief from Earl’s family when they met me. Not this intense blazing heat of anger and scrutiny.
“Who are you, really?” Nikolas demands, his breath warm on my lips, his deep voice sending tremors down my neck.
My mouth opens but I hesitate, unsure what to say.
Earl’s voice cuts through the charged silence, stern and warning.
“Nikolas, I will not ask you again.”
Reluctantly, Nikolas lowers the gun,shooting me one last dirty look before pushing away from me.
I let out a quiet breath of relief that I didn’t even realize I was holding in.
Earl nods at me. “Come here.”
I step around Nikolas and walk towards the man who is supposed to be my husband, blood rushing between my ears, my heels click clacking on the shiny marble floor.
The moment I get to Earl, I slip my hand into his, grasping tightly at his fingers.
There is no doubt in my mind. If Earl had not come when he had, his brother would have shot me.
My knees are weak and my heart still won’t stop racing.
I don’t even realize that I am holding unto him until he frowns down at our joined hands.
“Hey.” Earl mutters quietly, still frowning. “Are you okay?”
I nod, blushing and pulling my hand back as discreetly as I can but he turns to face me anyway.
Towering over me, like his brother did, he brushes my hair from my eyes, finger tips grazing my skin softly and sending chills down my back.
“Did he hurt you?” He grunts softly.
Oh god, he’s quite the actor isn’t he?
If I didn’t know better I would think he was actually worried about me.
I shake my head in answer to his question, resisting the urge to flinch away from his touch.
It’s all an act. I say in my head.
I can’t be fooled into thinking Earl Salvatore actually cares about me.
He’s playing up the part of concerned fiancé for his brother.
And I need to play my part too.
So even though what I want to do is run as far away as possible from these two breathtakingly attractive yet bloodthirsty men, I stay put and allow Earl to look at me like he didn’t have me tied to a chair only last night.
Sliding his arm around my waist, he turns to Nikolas, his voice low and firm with anger.
“Mind telling me why you had a gun held to her head?”
Nikolas can hear his brother talking to him but he won’t stop looking at me.
Well, calling it ‘looking’ is me being generous, scowling is more like it.
In fact if he frowns any harder his face is going to get stuck like that and wouldn’t that be a damn shame.
I should not have gone into the study.
It was dumb and stupid.
The kind of stupid that ends up with you having a gun pressed against your temple by a devastatingly handsome man who is right now looking at you like he is one wrong word away from blowing your brains out brother or no brother.
The kind of stupid Ted would not approve of.
The truth behind my being in the study? I had actually needed to use the bathroom.
At least at first.
Earl had left me in the foyer for a few minutes and I was so jittery that I couldn’t stand still.
I was just going to walk around till I found the closest toilet.
But then in my wanderings, I stumbled on the empty study and its open door.
I couldn’t believe my luck.
Imagine if I found something. Something that I could actually use.
A document, a flash drive, a ledger labeled “illegal drugs selling business ideas” or even better “murders we have committed as a family”.”.
I could be out of here without even needing to go through with this sham contract marriage.
I could rid myself and the world, of Earl Salvatore and his entire messy family in one fell swoop.
It had been too good an opportunity to pass up.
And after so many missions, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it is to never pass up an opportunity because you might never get another one.
So despite knowing I could get caught and potentially slaughtered, I had snuck in anyway.
The study had been shrouded in shadowy darkness despite the fact that it is still daytime and light outside.
The curtains were dark and heavy, and the air of the room was thick with the smell of tobacco and old books.
I could just make out the shape of a massive center table and a heavy bookshelf to my left.
But before I could take another step, common sense kicked in.
If I got caught right now, the gig was up.
Everything would be over.
Besides, what could one document or even ten do?
The Salvatores were the kind of men with more money than consciences. They have had cases with way more evidence against them thrown out of court without so much as a stain on their shiny suits.
If I really want to do this, then I would need more time to build my case.
I would have to suck it up and be Earl’s wife.
So giving up on my silly attempt at potentially unaliving myself, I had made my way out of the study.
And ran head first into the other Salvatore brother with his long wavy brown hair and caramel coloured eyes.
In response to Earl’s question, Nikolas waves his gun in my direction.
“What’s going on is that I caught your little tramp sneaking around in father’s study.”
He’s talking to his brother but his eyes are still fixed on me.
“I’m not a tramp.” I say just as Earl growls “Don’t you ever call her that.”
Earl and I glance at each other and look away just as quickly.
He lets go of my waist and I take one step away from him, my stomach in knots.
What the flip was that, talking in sync?
Nikolas, oblivious to what just happened between Earl and I, scoffs in disbelief.
He finally shifts his gaze to his brother.
“Okay Earl, this is a stupid game, even for you. What the f**k is going on?”
Earl shrugs, his hands sliding into his pockets.
“I just told you. I’m getting married and this is my wife.”
Nikolas throws his hands in the air like he can’t believe his ears, his voice rising with each word.
“Your wife…for f**k’s sake Earl. Only two nights the maid had to pick up after the girl you brought home, who by the way stole all our yoghurt and half the silverware drawer, and now you waltz in here and tell me you’re getting married, when will this end, or are we going to wait until some w***e of yours tries to cart away the swimming pool?”
The last girl.
Two nights ago.
By that time I was still lying in bed trying to force myself not to think about Earl or the feeling of my n****e in his mouth.
And yet only two nights later he had someone else in his bed.
My chest smarts.
Stupid, stop it. I whisper in my head.
Did you really not know what kind of man he is?
Besides, it's not like I have the right to care that he might have slept with someone else just mere days after me.
Cause I don’t.
I really don’t.
I don’t care who or what Earl Salvatore sleeps with and that’s the truth.
Maybe if I say it enough times I’ll start to believe it.
Besides me Earl smiles at his brother but it isn’t a happy smile. If anything it actually looks more like he’s…gloating?
What the hell is going on here and what sort of family rivalry have I gotten myself into?
Something tells me this might have everything to do with the reason Earl is forcing me to marry him.
He wraps his arm around my waist again and yanks me almost violently to his side. “This is Cameron. Cameron, meet my younger brother, Nikolas.”
But Nikolas won’t even look at me any more.
All of his attention is fixed on his brother.
He shakes his head as if unable to wrap his head around what is going on.
I almost feel sorry for him.
Or at least I would have if he didn’t try to kill me five seconds after meeting me.
Nikolas eyes cloud over with suspicion.
“Your wife.” He leers, spitting out the word with more venom than is necessary. “Tell me Earl, where did you even pick her up from? A bar? Some street corner? What makes this one different from all the rest?”
I narrow my eyes at him before I can stop myself.
He’s all but calling me a prostitute.
Well f**k you, Nikolas Salvatore.
And f**k the high horse you ride in on.
- Writer
