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Chapter Nine

COLETTE

I’m not sure who the hell these people are. Two men and a woman stare back at me as my father sits behind his desk like he’s some kind of king of the underworld. Not only am I confused about who they are, but I’m equally confused about why I’m being asked to attend this meeting with them.

My father has only called me into his office when he wants to demand something of me, not when he’s with anyone else. And it’s usually something I don’t want any part of… like my marriage to Malcolm Ravet.

The two men stand in the background, actually taking a step back when I enter. But the woman takes a step forward. Her brow arches as her eyes slide down my body to my feet, then back up to my face. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine. She’s not interested in my face. She’s more interested in my body, which scares the shit out of me.

“She will do,” she says as she takes a step backward.

Then, her focus swings over to my father. He leans back in his chair. I watch as he lifts his hands to his lips, pressing his fingers together. I don’t ask her what the hell I’ll do for. My father wouldn’t like that, and she probably wouldn’t answer me anyway.

Trying as hard as I can not to fidget, I lift my chin slightly as I wait for what’s to come. I know something is coming, but I can’t figure out what. My father stands from his desk. I don’t look at him, but I can see the movement in my peripheral vision.

He walks around his desk, past the men, then to the front of his desk, leaning against the wooden edge in front of her. She turns slightly to face him but doesn’t back up. Instead, she places one hand on her hip as she tips her head back, and her eyes find his.

“Do for what?” he asks.

Oh shit, even my dad doesn’t know what’s going on. My stomach twists at the thought of that. I can’t imagine my father having these people in his office, in our home, without knowing their purpose.

“We need someone to bring in the boys,” she announces. “She will be perfect. Sweet, soft, and has a good body. Ten-year-old boys won’t be able to resist.”

Bring in the boys.

I blink, unsure of how to respond to this. I don’t know what I would be bringing them in for, but none of it sounds good. I cannot imagine a world where needing to be cute, soft, and having a good body to bring in any teenage boy is for anything good or positive.

“Want to elaborate?” my father asks.

The woman’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Do you not realize who Malcolm Ravet is?” she asks.

My father crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side as he lifts a brow in question. He would never, not in a million years, admit that he doesn’t know someone or something, so instead, he stays silent and waits for her to explain herself further.

She smiles, but it sends a chill down my spine. It’s an evil smile. Her expression shows just who and what she is. I suck in a breath, holding it for a moment before I let it out slowly. There is no way in hell I can hold back my reaction to the pure evil that lurks behind this woman’s eyes.

“You are marrying your daughter off to this man, and you don’t know who he is,” she states.

My father’s expression and stance don’t change. Clearly, he doesn’t give a fuck what her opinion on the matter is. Instead, he’s ready to hear the rest of her explanation. I bite the inside of my cheek.

“He offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse,” my father states

“And you don’t mind that he is someone who is part of the underbelly of society?” she asks.

My father releases his arms, lifting his hands as he exaggeratedly looks around the room. “You see anyone here who isn’t part of the underbelly of society?”

She jerks her chin, then takes a step toward him. I watch as she lifts her hand and places her palm against his chest. She leans forward, her lips touching the side of his face, and whispers against his ear.

His brows lift, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stays quiet. She takes a step backward, and his eyes flick to meet mine. “Go to your room, Colette,” he demands.

I can tell that whatever it is he’s just been told is definitely something he doesn’t want me to know. Although it doesn’t have anything to do with protecting me. In fact, I have a feeling he doesn’t have an issue with it at all.

When it comes to me, the only thing that my father gives a shit about is how I can benefit him. So if whatever she says uses me to aid him, then that’s good enough. He doesn’t have much of a moral code, so if what she’s suggesting is immoral, he doesn’t give a shit.

I also don’t hang around his office long enough to find out what they’re discussing. I don’t care. It sounds bad, because I probably should care, but I can’t. Selfishly, I’m worried about what is going to happen after I become the marital property of Malcolm.

If he’s involved with these people, then I have a feeling it’s going to be a really rough road. That I’m going to hate every part of my life even more than I do now. As much as I want just to accept my life, I can’t help but think of what I had and what I could have had. It makes me feel miserably sad.

Turning away from my father, I walk toward the door and open it just enough to slip out. Closing it behind me, I inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly in an attempt to gather myself.

“You good?” Marcello asks.

I don’t know why he’s being kind to me, but then, as I lift my gaze to meet his, I see the expression on his face, and I realize he’s not being nice. Instead, he feels pity. My God, he pities me. Giving him a tight smile, I dip my chin in a single nod before I head straight for my bedroom.

I forgo going to get my yogurt. Just like I suspected, I don’t give a shit about it anymore. Instead, I try my hardest not to run, slam my door, and lock it behind me, but before I can do that, I feel Marcello’s fingers curl around the back of my elbow.

Turning my head over my shoulder, I look up at him, my feet stopping in my tracks. He dips his chin slightly, and I realize we’re in an alcove of the hallway, in a dark little corner. He leans forward to whisper against my ear.

“Something bad is going to happen. You need to run,” he rasps.

I would love to do just that, but the simple fact is that I can’t. There is nowhere I can go, and even if there is, there is no way I can get out of this house undetected. I open my mouth to say just that but decide against it. Instead, I ask him why.

“What do you know?” I ask. “Because all I know is that it’s something with teenage boys, and I’ve been sold to the highest bidder for sex on my wedding night.”

His brows lift, and his eyes slide down to his feet before he flicks his gaze back up to meet mine. We stare at one another for what feels like a long moment. Then he releases his grasp on my elbow.

“Be careful, Colette.”

I don’t know when he turned from a guy who wanted to get into my golden cunt to this one who is warning me to be careful, but I trust him about as much as I trust my father, which is not at all.

“I am,” I lie.

I am not careful.

I don’t have the opportunity to be cautious. All I can do is keep my eyes peeled and try not to get killed at this point in my life. Because I know that my ending will likely be much like my mother’s. I’m going to disappear one day, never to be seen again.

That should terrify me, but I’ve come to the realization that it just is… what it is. And nothing more.

MERRICK

Standing at the back of the limestone building, I watch as the light in her bedroom is turned on. A shadow moves around the room. I can tell, just by the shape, that it’s her. It’s my wife. She is still that, too. Nothing has been officially finalized yet to make her anything else. My cock twitches at the sight of her moving around the room.

When her shadow moves to the window, I tilt my head back and look up. I wait for her to open the blinds, but she doesn’t. She stands there, and I wonder if she can see me down here. I’ve never actually been inside her bedroom, so I don’t know if she can see out.

I’m in the shadows, so she probably couldn’t see me anyway, even if she knew where to look. I stand there for a long moment, my eyes transfixed on that damn window, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Her shadow moves away from the window, and then the light flicks off. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times as I try to think of what to do next. With my raging hard-on, I’m finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than breaking into her bedroom and fucking her into the mattress.

Powering on my phone, I send a text to Boden asking him if there is any way for him to disable the camera surveillance on the back part of the building. He answers almost immediately.

BODEN: I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, AND YOU’RE CRAZY AS FUCK.

I’m sure he does know what I want, but at the same time, I don’t give a shit. I am crazy as fuck. I need to know if this is all for naught. I wonder if I remember Colette a certain way or if she really was the one for me.

Because I’ll be damned if I risk life and limb just to get her home and realize I fucked up—big-time. I don’t want to start a war with the Bellucci Mafioso, but at the same time, I have a feeling that there is something much more sinister than me just starting a war over his daughter, my legal wife.

I don’t respond to Boden mainly because I don’t need to explain myself. He knows who I am, what I stand for, and what I fucking want. There is zero need for me to explain myself, and I won’t.

BODEN: YOU’RE FUCKING ANNOYING. THE BACK OF THE BUILDING SYSTEM HAS NOT BEEN UPDATED WITH A NEW PASSWORD LIKE THE FRONT. NOT SURE WHY. BUT I’VE DISABLED IT FROM MY APP.

Meant to fucking be.

Now I just have to climb my ass to the fourth floor. Which will be easy enough as long as the fire escape is still in working order. That’s the best part of these old-as-fuck buildings in the city.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I begin to make my way up the fire escape and to Colette’s bedroom. I want to know that this is exactly what I need. I’ve been struggling with this situation for far too long, too lost inside of my own head and thoughts to make a rational decision.

I never wanted to be married, never wanted to settle down. Being married has never been on my radar. Not with my past. It was something that I felt was thrust upon me. Another moment, another thing in my life that was not my choice.

But when I really took in Theron and Lucille, when I really paid attention to their dynamic, and especially Theron, I realized that I wanted that, too. I want what they have, and I think that Colette is the one who can give it to me.

Reaching the floor of the building that is hers, I spread my fingers wide and press them against the glass window, trying to push upward. I’m not sure what I thought I would do if the window were locked but thank fuck it isn’t.

It slides up easily. The blinds are my next obstacle, and they are the push-up-from-the-base kind of system, so they are easier than a chord pulley one. I slowly lift them up to give myself enough room to climb into her bedroom without making a lot of noise.

Before I climb through, I allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness in her room and see her there. She’s in bed, her back to me as she faces the closet doors. Glancing over to the bedroom door, I smile at the fact that it’s closed and, if I’m not mistaken, locked as well.

Perfect.