Aggressive Negotiations

Elizabeth

Five months.

It had been five months since I had made my arrangement with Nero Adams. Five months since I told him I would give him my body in exchange for the money to clear my father’s debts. Five months since he’d first touched me.

In those five months, I learned a lot about him. I learned he didn’t really like his line of work, but did it because he had to. I learned that he was a fan of rock and rap, even though the combination was a bit strange. When he was a boy, he had been in band (played the saxophone, according to him, though not very well.) He liked to tell jokes. He liked his drinks strong.

I liked him. More than one should like a man to whom they whored themselves out to. Certainly more than a friend.

I didn’t know when it happened. Somewhere between learning that more than money, he wanted a family, in the tiny moments that we shared together where he wasn’t driving into me and bringing me to ecstasy. It made me feel something for him. I didn’t think that it was very wise of me – couldn’t possibly be sane.

Whatever my feelings, I knew that I would at least have to put them on the back burner until my father’s debts were paid. Nero was still giving me money, even slipping me extra, I’d noticed. I almost told him to stop, once. But money was money, and father needed it more than my pride needed to hope that all the extra time spent with him wasn’t just because I was giving him easy access to my body.

I would just have to wait and see. There were more important things to worry about…

Two weeks into the fifth month of my arrangement with Nero, Alec Lorenzo called me to his home.

It was earlier than usual; I tended to make my payments at the end of the month, not in the beginning of it. I wondered if my father had managed to incur more debt while I had been paying it off. I prayed that he hadn’t; that would only anger the Lorenzo’s further, and I had no desire to bring their wrath on my father further, nor myself for that matter.

I arrived at twelve, pulling up to the sprawling mansion. It was nothing like Ray’s, where Nero conducted his business. Ray’s was seedy; Alec Lorenzo’s home was austere and it made me swallow every time I came over to deliver their monthly payment. I walked up to the front, apprehensive, each step heavy. He hadn’t told me what he wanted to see me for, just that he wished to ‘talk’ with me.

I was let in. The servant didn’t speak to me, and the thin man never had since the first day that I had come over, begging that they take my money in exchange for leaving my father alone. All he did was walk me through echoing halls, carpeted by ancient rugs that had certainly seen brighter homes. I was taken to Alec Lorenzo’s office, where the servant knocked for me, and left.

I waited.

“Come in.”

The voice that sounded was old, worn, the voice of someone who had smoked far too many cigarettes in his lifetime to be justified. I turned the knob of the door and entered, coughing a little at the scent of smoke.

Alec Lorenzo sat behind his desk, long grey hair pulled back, the Cherrywood hiding his large pot belly. Caracts clouded his eyes like his cigar smoke fogged up the room; neither seemed to bother him.

“Ah, Ms. Love. Please sit.” I did so, knowing that I had very little choice in the matter.

“Mr. Lorenzo,” I said politely. “Is there a problem? I was under the impression my payment wasn’t due until the end of the month. Was I mistaken?”

He coughed, hacking into his hand before smiling at me, a great yellowed, toothy expression.

“It’s your payment that I wanted to discuss, though less in terms of you needing to pay me and more in terms of who’s paying you; I had no idea that your income came from Nero Adams.”

From within his desk, he pulled out a folder. He slid it over to me, and my heart pounded in my chest; anxiety raced through me. Inside were pictures of Nero and I, namely ones of us having sex. It was embarrassing that Alec Lorenzo had them, and knowing that Nero and he had bad blood, I feared what the man across from me would do.

“I only needed the money,” I began to explain. “It wasn’t to insult –”

“Child. If I thought that you were trying to insult me, I would have shot you already,” he said. “No. I look at this more as an opportunity. You know that the man Nero Adams called father killed my only son, yes?” he asked. I nodded. “Yes… Little scuffle that ended badly. An accident, apparently. Skipped town before blood could be repaid. And there you are. Close to his son.”

“We’re not close,” I said immediately. “I only… Work for him.”

“Ha! Work. I suppose if bending over for him and letting him in that tight pie of yours is work, you can tell yourself that, Ms. Love. I didn’t call her here to argue over your employment status, however. I called you here to make a deal.”

He sounded pleasant about it, but I felt I couldn’t trust him. His Cheshire smile was far too devious and self-satisfied to mean anything good; and he wasn’t a good man either way.

“What sort of deal?”

“The sort that would erase your father’s debts to my family, and give me my retribution for my son. I want Nero Adams’ life, Ms. Love. I do believe you can help me get it?”