CHAPTER SEVEN:
1865 Words
See no evil, speak no evil, touch no evil…except absolutely necessary.
CAMERON
I stare at his lap with my jaw on the floor.
“We had a deal.” I finally manage to splutter.
He doesn’t smirk but his eyes glint with a knowing light, as if he knows a secret I don’t and it does nothing to help the fear galloping in my throat.
“I’m not going to touch you.” He finally says.
“But…”
“Come here Cameron, and don’t make me repeat myself ever again or I will have to punish you.”
Crossing that distance of two feet is one of the hardest things I will ever have to do.
And I once had to strangle a 300 pound man with my bare hands.
I can feel my heart beating in my chest, and my tongue is sticking to the roof of my very dry mouth.
True to his word he doesn’t touch me.
But a fat load of good that does me.
I can feel the heat of him behind my back and everytime he speaks, it is like the vibrations are against my neck.
“Read.” He mumbles, leaning back into the chair, arms on either side of the armrests beside me.
I open the folder and try to focus on the words and not the sexy as sin man who’s lap I’m sitting in.
“Out loud.” He says briskly and sighing, I start to read.
“The Contract will last for a period of one year, during which the following must be observed: You, Cameron Waters, will pledge loyalty to me and my family, even if it's just a facade. You will keep all family business confidential.” I press my lips together at that line. “Oh you mean the business of maiming and killing and peddling drugs to little children?”
“You have a big mouth.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before choosing me to be your wife.” I retort with a wide, sweet smile.
He rolls his eyes but not before they drop to my lips and set my pulse racing. “I’m starting to realize that. Keep reading.”
I turn back to the paper.
“Three, Respect: You will show respect to me, my family, and our associates. Four, Public image: We will present a united front and maintain a convincing illusion of a happy marriage. How delightful.” I quip at the end but he doesn’t respond.
My eyes race past to the next line and I laugh, snorting before I realize that I’m doing it.
“Oh this next one is a real laugh. Five, Protection: I, Earl Salvatore, will provide for your safety and well-being, and you will do the same for me.”
Beneath me, Earl stiffens. “There isn’t a single word in there that I do not mean Cameron.”
My heart skips a stubborn beat and I swear violently at it in my head.
I lick my lips and go back to reading. “Boundaries: We will establish clear boundaries and maintain a professional distance. There will be no engagement in any physical or romantic intimacy.”
I start to turn red as I realize that the clause I added about him never touching me was already in place.
I wonder if sitting in his lap counts as a “professional” boundary.
“Seven. No outside relationships: We will not engage in romantic or intimate relationships with others.”
I pause reading at this point, frowning to myself.
I had expected that he would carry on with his many “whores” as he likes to call them while forcing me to remain locked up in his house.
But this rule is oddly fair and completely unexpected, dare I say, even decent.
But I don’t tell him that.
Instead I clear my throat and read through the rest of it.
“Eight, you will participate in family events and gatherings as required. Ohhh,” I coo, instantly perking up. “Do I get a gun”
“No.”
“Bummer.” I pout as I keep reading. “Nine, our contract will have a clear end date upon which the sum of two million five hundred dollars will be transferred to your account.”
And Earl Salvatore and the rest of his family will be behind bars.
I keep reading. “Ten, betrayal or breach of any part of this contract will result in severe consequences.”
“Like the death of your foster parents.”
“Yeah Earl, I got that.”
He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a low growl.
His name.
I just said his name for the first time since the night he kissed me against that very door.
Suddenly the air conditioning in the room is too cold.
My n*****s feel stiff and pointed.
I wonder what they would feel like if he reached around me and…
For f**k’s sake Cameron!
I bite my lip hard enough for it to sting and force myself to finish reading so I can get up before I do something stupid.
My heart hammers in my chest as I read the next line knowing I am going to break it.
“Eleven, the Omertà. You will maintain the code of silence and never betray family secrets. And lastly I, Earl Antonio Salvatore will be the decision-maker in our marriage and in all family matters.”
I stare at my signature at the bottom of the page and feel my chest grow tight.
Signed, done, sealed.
All three words to describe my fate.
“What happened here?”
I feel his knuckles graze my arm where the car door had scratched me as I was tossed into the car on the way here.
I shiver, flinching away from his touch.
And still in his lap, I turn around so I can glare at him. “That, counts as touching and maybe if your big buffoon of a driver hadn’t manhandled me into the car I wouldn’t have had any more injuries.”
His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes me, the blue orbs flashing with a hint of anger. “He did this?”
Before I can answer, he picks up a phone I hadn’t noticed before and a few beeps later there’s a knock on the door.
“Enter.” He calls out and the driver/s***h bodyguard who had brought me here enters the room.
The man is still dressed in the shiny brown shirt he had on when he drove me here, still has the gold chain around his neck.
Except now I can see the fear in his face and in the slump of his shoulders and bald head.
Suddenly I feel sorry for him.
If I had known Earl would react this way I would have kept my mouth shut.
Behind me, Earl’s voice is hard and quiet. “My fiancée tells me you…manhandled her.”
I shift around in his lap. “Look, I’m sure he didn’t mean…”
But Earl isn’t listening to me.
His eyes, like a predator sizing his prey, are fixed on the man in the center of the room.
The driver shakes his head. “I didn’t…”
“So you’re calling her a liar?”
“No Boss.”
“Kneel.”
As he says the words and the driver lowers himself, another man enters. Except this one is carrying a shiny butcher’s knife.
My heart falls all the way to the ground.
Oh God no.
I start to get up but Earl’s arm suddenly snakes around my waist, holding me tightly and almost painfully to him.
Trapped.
“No, please, stop.”
My voice is tiny, small with fear.
I can already see how the blood would seep everywhere, the white rug, the soft brown couches.
I feel Earl, hard and solid pressed against my back, the warmth of his breath on my ear.
His lips brush against my neck and despite myself I feel the flutter all the way to my toes.
He nods at the man with the knife who immediately lifts it up and above the kneeling driver.
“You disrespect my wife Carlos, you disrespect me. You know that.”
The one called Carlos to his credit doesn’t whimper or even beg.
He simply stares at the ground. “I do Boss”
“Would you like his hand?”
It takes me a minute to realize he is talking to me.
I turn to look at him in disbelief and as I watch, his perfect marble face becomes a cold, dark abyss, pure cruelty in the droop of his lids.
He’s showing me exactly how much power he has.
How callous he can be.
I hate him. I hate him with everything in me.
I stare unblinking into his icy eyes, my own flashing with defiance until the silence between us becomes a living, breathing entity, pulsing with malice and anticipation.
I tilt up my chin. “What the f**k would I do with his hand?”
Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifts up in a satisfied smirk and without taking his eyes off me he calls out to the man about to have his hand chopped off.
“You hear that Carlos. My wife wishes to spare you today. What do you say to that?”
“Thank you,” the man blurts out, his voice shaky with relief. “Thank you, Comare.”
Comare. Godmother.
The wife of a Mafia Boss with almost as much power as him.
I almost throw up in my own mouth.
“You may go.” Earl finally says and both men scramble from the room without another word.
His arm falls away from my waist the very same second.
I don’t look away from his face. I don’t think I can.
“You touched me.” I say quietly, my tone laced with a mix of fear and defiance.
He blinks once, so slowly that I can almost catch it in my hand and hold it. “We were not alone.”
I bite my lip until it starts to hurt . “Would you really have cut off his hand?”
He nods.
“That was a warning and a test for me wasn’t it?”
He nods again.
“Did I pass?”
He watches me quietly, his gaze piercing but he does not answer instead he leans back and smirks.
I can feel the rage like liquid heat rushing underneath my skin.
I start to get up but he tuts at me.
“I didn’t give you permission to do that.”
I glare back at him in response. “The contract did.” And I get up anyway
He lets me go without a word.
“They will remember that you know?” He finally says, nodding in the direction of the men who just left.
I don’t respond.
Let them remember.
So will I.
And when the day comes, I will make him pay.
- Writer
