Chapter Eleven

 

Cooperation is the goal of this partnership.  Parties will treat each other with respect and consideration.  If need be, they will also provide a sounding board for ideas or offer appropriate support.  If an issue is of importance to one party, they can request the second party’s assistance, collaboration, or focus on said issue.

The second party will do his/her best to accommodate them without whining.

Clause 12- Respect and Cooperation Between Partners

 

She continued to wear Arthur’s ring.

Each time he looked at the hunk of metal weighing down her finger, Midas seethed.

Guinevere was married to him.  Under every law of the kingdom she belonged to Midas.  Not that he gave a damn about laws, but Gwen sure as hell did.  She was supposed to be a coloring-inside-the-lines, home-by-midnight, always-playing-fair Good folk.  She wasn’t allowed to break their rules like this. Granted, Midas hadn’t exactly read the Good folk’s imaginary, beige-colored Code of Conduct.  Still, he was fairly sure one of the chapter headings was: “Wear the Wedding Band of Your CURRENT Husband.”

And it was an important chapter, too.  Like chapter fucking one.

Brooding about Gwen was a great deal more interesting than the stupid meeting he was sitting through.  All around Midas, Baddies engaged in the Round Table.  Once a year, the worst of the worst gathered for a few days in Camelot to map out territories, draft treaties, and negotiate prices.  …And to bitch a lot.  It gave Midas a headache.

“Are you listening to this craziness?”  Gwen whispered at him.

He didn’t look up from his tablet.  “I’m trying not to.”

She was listening, though.  His wife sat next to him, actually listening to that blubbering idiot Walrus gripe about his staffing issues.  Everyone else was without sympathy for the flippered moron.  Of the twenty-two other members of the Round Table, half of them were dozing as the Walrus jabbered.  By and large, the group had difficulty in focusing on anything that didn’t directly benefit them, so other people’s problems were always dull.  But Guinevere was taking the Walrus’ complaints seriously, concentrating as he whined about his unreliable oyster brigade henchman.

Midas’ mouth curved.  Despite his annoyance over the wedding ring, he was incurably smitten by his Good little bride.  Actually his smitten-ness was the reason the ring annoyed him so deeply.  It was easy to tell himself to keep a practical distance from Gwen, but the decision was hard to follow through with when she insisted on being so fucking adorable.

He sent her a sideways glance, his gaze drawn to her like a magnet.

He couldn’t sleep with his wife, but lust still throbbed whenever he looked at her.  Or heard her voice.  Or thought about her.  The blue of her eyes and the golden shine of her hair and the delicate curves of her breasts…  It all clouded his mind. The multitude of logical reasons why he couldn’t touch her became a fog and there was just the overwhelming desire to feel her body beneath his.

“The Walrus isn’t being reasonable about his employee practices.”  Gwen whispered, oblivious to Midas’ dark, wet, hot thoughts.  She leaned closer to him and he nearly groaned at the erotic scent of her hair.  “You should tell him so.”

Midas managed to hide his hopeless lust.  Instead, he theatrically lowered his voice so it matched hers.  “I would, but I’m extremely busy not caring about that asshole.”

She flashed him a quick frown.  “You really should pay more attention, Midas.  Granted your business is illegal, but it’s still a business. You need to know exactly what’s happening with your competitors, if you’re going to stay successful at crime.  It’s not just spreadsheets and math.  Every detail could be important.”

Midas couldn’t help but be touched.  Gwen was focused on the Round Table because she was trying to protect him.  The woman really did want to be equal partners.  She wanted to help him.

Was it any wonder he was so smitten?

“Nothing the Walrus says is important, Gwen.”  He assured her softly. He knew that, because he’d been mentally processing all of it.  Sorting through the moaning and lies, just in case something vaguely interesting was said.  Very little escaped Midas’ attention…  Even the unimportant shit.

“How would you know if it’s important or not?  You’re ignoring everything he says.”

“It’s usually the best way to deal with an idiot.”

She gave him a compassionate look.  “These kind of negotiation aren’t your forte, are they?”

He arched a brow.  “Well, I do my best.”

“Of course you do!”  She said swiftly, clearly worried she’d hurt his feelings.  “I mean, you’re very talented at many things.  I think you probably remember every single thing you’ve ever read, right?”

“Yes.”  He was surprised she knew that, though.  No one else had ever noticed.  Not even his teachers, back before his parents left and he’d attended Celliwig’s decrepit school.

Gwen just nodded, like it was obvious.  “You’re very smart, Midas.  Incredibly smart.  I know that.  But you’re a bit too innocent to really understand that unscrupulous people try to weasel weasly things into contracts.”

“Too… innocent?”  Even as a child, he’d been old.

“There’s no shame in it.”  She picked up a pen.  “You’re a naturally kind and trusting person.  It’s everyone else who should change, but they won’t.”  She sighed.  “Instead, they’ll just take advantage of your gallant nature.  The world is a hard place for honorable people like you.”

Midas had no idea what he could say to that lunacy.

“Luckily, I’m here and I’m heartless.”  She continued.  “Everyone knows that.”

“I don’t think that…”

She kept talking.  “Why, I can already tell the Walrus is a cheat and a liar.  It’s lucky that I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about jerks like him.  I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Midas weighed his options and couldn’t think of a single reason to tell her he was actually a mean son of a bitch, who ruled the underworld with an iron fist.  Why disillusion her about his “gallant” nature?  What could possibly be gained?

“That’s… very thoughtful.”  He murmured instead.

Gwen patted his arm, pleased at his acquiescence. “Here, I’ll take some notes on ways we can outmaneuver him.”

Midas bit back a smile.  She thought he was lousy at running his empire.  He wasn’t sure why he found it so charming, but he was in no hurry to correct her misapprehension.  He liked that she saw him as too “kind and trusting” for the seedy side of Camelot.  He liked that she was trying to look out for him.  It made him feel… special.

Even though he wasn’t.

Until Gwen arrived, he’d had nothing special in his life, at all.  He needed her more than he’d ever needed anything and it scared him.  Gwen would one day leave and take all the light with her.  Midas couldn’t let that happen.  He somehow needed to convince her to stay with him, no matter what.

To that end, he had men compiling reams of information on Gwen and everyone she knew, all of it forwarded to his email.

Midas angled the screen of his tablet to hide the fact he was prying into her life, scrolling past articles on formal balls, and her legendary father, and her happily-ever-after with Arthur.  All of them featured perfectly staged photos and unobjectionable quotes.  …And none of them had a damn thing to do with the real woman.  What the hell was he paying these imbeciles for?  Could they uncover nothing of value?  How could someone so famous be so hard to investigate?

“I don’t understand why they just can’t be grateful that I’m still hiring in this economy.”  The Walrus’ huge tusks caused him to lisp every word.  His voice was annoying and he talked a lot, which was a bad combination.  “Oysters are fucking useless! We need to establish some kind of henchman temp service, so I can get some reliable help.”

“Have you t-t-t-tried w-w-w-working with r-r-r-rats?”  K-k-k-Katy the K-k-k-Kruel stuttered out.  Her hair was in two pigtails and she carried a switchblade in her gingham pocket.

She was also the one who’d selected the meeting spot for the Round Table this year, which was basically just a deserted warehouse and some folding chairs around a long table.  The damn table wasn’t even round!  It was totally unacceptable.  Next year, Midas would have to take over the planning process.  In this dump, he was afraid his delicate wife would get impaled by an exposed nail or contract malaria from the stagnant puddles on the floor.  The roof leaked, its huge windows not closing properly.  Given the constant drizzle outside, that ensured that everyone stayed damp and uncomfortable.

Midas flashed a disgusted look towards the dripping ceiling.  God, he missed the sun.  When was Camelot going to get over its damn “mourning for Arthur” and let summer come back?

“Yeah, rats are the way to go, Walrus.”  Dower, the jackass wolf, put in.  “There are a bunch of those hairy bastards freelancing as henchmen, ever since Cinderella got her ass locked up.”

The Walrus looked outraged.  “I’m a sea mammal!  What am I going to do with rats for henchmen?  Can they even swim?”

“They swim off sinking ships, don’t they?”  Dower sounded bored.  Who could blame him?  “It’s like their one and only skill.  And you fail so often, they’ll be backstroking around in no time.”

“Rats are the only henchmen worth having.”  Hamelin, the Pied Piper, agreed seriously.  He favored green tights and a jaunty hat with a feather in it.  “They’re smart and loyal and don’t carry nearly as many diseases as people say.”

The Walrus rolled his eyes.  “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

Well, the Walrus didn’t actually say “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” but it was all Midas heard.  The words themselves weren’t important enough to even register.  His mind helpfully filtered them out, resuming its subconscious scan for someone to say something interesting.  And really what were the odds of that happening?

God, this meeting was just going to drag on forever.

Information from the official palace sites was of no help whatsoever.  Midas only learned the recipe for Gwen’s famous pecan pie, a looooong list of charities she supported, and that her favorite color was red.  Actually, that did intrigue him.  It was such a bold shade for a queen.  He would have guessed buttercup yellow or mint green or some other serene shade of pastel cutesy-ness.  Still, he was frustrated by his lack of progress.  Where was all the information that mattered?

He clicked on a link to a tabloid site, which looked more promising.  It featured a picture of Arthur and Guinevere taken through a telephoto lens.  They were in the middle of an argument inside the Queen’s Parlor. The caption read, “Art Reacts to Rumors of Gwen’s Secret Love.”  The king was caught mid-bellow, his handsome face red and angry.  Guinevere was holding a much smaller Avalon to her shoulder, her hand protectively covering the back of her daughter’s head.  It looked as though Avalon’s eyes were filled with tears and she was cringing away from her father’s tirade.

Midas’ jaw tightened.  What the hell had Arthur been thinking, making his daughter cry?  The man truly had been the biggest asshole in the land.

He scrolled down and saw another article, this one accompanied by a picture of Gwen and Galahad walking in a garden.  She’d claimed they were friends, but they were really fucking good friends.  Avalon rode on Galahad’s wide shoulders, holding onto his clean, unscarred, uncursed hands for balance.  They all looked happy and classy and… perfect.

They looked like they belonged together.

Midas got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Galahad was handsome and smiling and goddamn perfect.  Gwen claimed she would stay with Midas, even if Galahad returned, but what if she was just kidding herself?  Who could possibly want Midas over Camelot’s most decorated hero?  Especially if he was the father of her child?  The son of a bitch even looked like Avalon.  Blond hair and blue eyes.  The author of the story must have agreed, because the headline was all in capitals: SOURCE CONFIRMS- GALAHAD IS PRINCESS’ BIO DADDY!

Mother fuck.

Midas’ fingers tightened on the edge of the tablet so hard it was a wonder the screen didn’t crack.

“What about starting some kind of henchman school?”  The Cat chimed in, absently strumming her fiddle, which was lying flat on the (not-round) table.  It was a nervous tick.  “They need training in the minion-ing arts.  Those dishes and spoons I work with are fucking nymphos, constantly running off together.  It’s cutting into my bottom line, especially since the Cow jumped off to who-the-hell-knows-where.”  She looked over at Little Dog.  “Am I right?”

Little Dog laughed, because Little Dog always laughed, because Little Dog was always high.  Midas had no idea how the jackass got any villainy done when he was forever stoned out of his spotted skull.

Dower rolled his eyes.  So did everyone else.

Except Gwen, who glanced at Midas.  “Hey, what are you doing?”  She asked, craning her neck to see the screen of his tablet.

“Nothing.”  Midas automatically pulled it back from her, even though she’d seen too much to believe that.

“Are you looking at pictures of Galahad and me?”

Midas didn’t want to lie and he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit the truth, so he said nothing.

Lake-blue eyes narrowed.  “I can’t believe you’re still snooping around.  I let the part where you looked into my schooling go, but you have no business reading tabloid articles about my past. It violates the Contract, Midas.”

“No, it doesn’t.”  He argued and it was technically true.  He could recite her the exact language of the relevant Clauses if she’d like.  “At most, it’s a gray area…”

The door to the warehouse opened and Jill Hill came stalking in, interrupting his (kind of lame) explanation.  Midas had never been so happy to see the woman in his life.  All of Gwen’s angry attention instantly went to Arthur’s mistress.

Thank God.

“I knew you’d be here, Midas.”  Jill spat out.  There was a huge bruise on her jaw, thanks to Gwen’s fist.  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing, you son of a bitch!?”

“Well, I wasn’t really trying to hide it, so…”

“You shut down all the ports!”  She interrupted at a shriek.  “You closed down everything!”

“Yes.”  Midas agreed.

He controlled Camelot’s black market, so he could determine exactly what came in and out of the kingdom.  That was a powerful weapon in war.  His first idea had been to stop shipments of all illegal goods into Camelot, just to create some hardships for all the hypocritical Good folk who used his products.  But then it occurred to him that he’d been thinking too small.  Why not cut off everything?  He had the power to shut every checkpoint and transit line in every direction.

And so he did.

Nothing was moving in the whole kingdom and it wouldn’t as long as the Scarecrow was in power.  Let’s see how popular the bastard remained when the Good folk realized they could no longer get their cellphones, cigarettes, and coffee.

Jill threw a stack of reports at him.  “You’re going to lose hundreds of millions, you fool! And all for her?”  She jabbed a finger at Gwen.  “Because you want to own a queen?  Are you out of your mind!?”

“Oh for God’s sake, Jill.”  Gwen bounded to her feet, batting the falling papers away as they drifted to the floor.  “Wasn’t it enough to try and ruin my wedding? Now you have to show up here and yell at my husband?”

Midas heart flipped, his breath stilling.

“I totally get why the Kingpin’s so damn pussy-whipped by the girl.”  Dower told the room at large.  “She’s fucking hot for a Goodie, right?  Usually, I don’t got a thing for ‘em, but she’s got some fire.  You can tell.”

Midas didn’t even bother to hit the man.  All his focus was on Gwen, still trying to process what she’d just said.  She’d called him her husband.  Out loud and in public.

Nothing had ever sounded so right.

“This is all your doing!”  Jill ranted, stabbing a finger at Gwen.  “My business will suffer, now.  Men don’t pay for escorts, when they’re broke.  You won’t be happy until you’ve ruined my entire life, will you?  Until you’ve robbed me of everything that’s rightfully mine.”

“Midas isn’t yours.”  Gwen snapped.  “He’s my partner.”  She sent him a quick glance.  “Aren’t you mine?”

“Yes.” He belonged to Gwen.  He had from the moment he saw her.

“See?”  She looked back to Jill.  “Midas and I are business partners in this.  Everything he’s doing is to help our plan.  A plan which will happen, no matter who stands in our way.  So you need to back the hell off or I will knock your ass down, again.”  She paused and glanced at Midas.  “And shutting down the ports is a really good idea, by the way.”  She tacked on a little belatedly.

“Thank you.”  He murmured, soaking in her words like sunshine.

“All you are is a trophy to him.”  Jill hissed.  “Something of Arthur’s he can show off.”

Gwen frowned.

Midas’ jaw ticked, seeing she’d been hurt.  No one hurt his wife.  “You should go now, Jill.”  There was no mistaking the warning in his tone.  “You have a busy afternoon of trying to liquidate assets ahead of you.”

She tossed her hair back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I own every marker you owe and they’re all being called in.  Now.  Every outstanding mortgage and debt will be due at start of business tomorrow.”  He arched a brow.  “You think shutting down the ports impacted your bottom line?  I’ll make sure you don’t even have an umbrella to sit under when it rains.  And Jill?”  He lifted a negligent hand towards the overcast sky.  “It always rains in Camelot.”

Jill paled.

Gwen glanced at him in surprise.  “Midas…”

“That’s me being my kindest self.”  He interrupted, anticipating her complaint.  “Believe me.  I could do much worse and Jill knows that I will if she bothers you, again.”

Jill’s lips thinned at the threat.  “You bastard.  You’ll pay for this.”

“I can afford it.”  He said calmly.

“We’ll just see who comes out on top, asshole.”  She glanced back at Gwen.  “Have fun pulling his strings, for a while.  Arthur always said you were trying to steal his kingdom and now you can to steal the underworld from Midas.  …For as long as he finds it amusing, anyway.  Midas doesn’t have a long attention span for his new toys.  There’s always something better to buy.”  Turning on her tall heels, she marched from the room.

“What a bitch.”  Miss Muffet muttered.

Gwen glanced down at Midas, like Jill’s words actually worried her.  “I’m not trying to steal your business from you.”  She said in a stricken voice.

Fucking hell.  No doubt Arthur had complained about Gwen trying to save Camelot from his bungling.  The woman cared deeply about this shithole kingdom.  Of course she’d try to save it from an incompetent moron.  And of course Arthur had resisted her efforts.  The man’s ego had no doubt been bruised that Gwen was a thousand times smarter than him.

“You’re not stealing from me.”  Midas assured her firmly.  Just the idea was ridiculous.  Gwen couldn’t steal from him, even if she wanted to.  Everything he had was hers.

“I just want to help.  Really.”  She still looked unsure.  It broke his heart.  “Midas, if I’m bothering you by being here…”

“I need you.”  He interrupted, not caring if anyone else heard him, just wanting her usual confidence back.  “I like that you’re helping me.  I like that you let me help you.  That’s why we both signed the Contract, isn’t it?”

She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip.

“Don’t break our deal.”  Midas urged.  “Don’t leave me.  Without you, I would be… alone.”

She studied him for a long moment, like she was trying to read his mind.

Midas stared back.  Every word he’d said was true, so this was one test he’d knew he’d pass.  Sure enough, those big, blue eyes weighed him and, once again, they liked what they saw.

“Okay.”  Gwen let out a relieved breath.  “Equal partners.”

“Equal partners.”  God, it really was the best bargain he’d ever made.

Gwen sat down again and deliberately shifted her chair closer to his.  She may have intended it to be a discreet movement, but the legs squeaked across the floor.  The woman simply wasn’t programmed to be subtle.  After about half a second, she scooted her chair over again, so now the cushions actually touched.  Then, she glanced up at him, as if checking to see if Midas noticed the noise or closer proximity.

His only response was to stretch out a proprietary arm, so it was resting along the back of her seat.  Gwen didn’t seem to mind the unmistakable show of possessiveness.  She smiled and settled back with a cheerful sigh.  Satisfaction filled Midas, his gloved fingers absently toying with the ends of her soft, shiny hair.

His wife.

“I like that you’re trying to be more assertive.”  Gwen whispered.  “I know it’s hard for you to be as heartless as me, but it will really help you in business.  And you’re a doing a great job.”

“It’s coming very easily to me.”  He assured her.

“But maybe you could show a little bit of mercy to Jill.”  Gwen went on.  “Not a lot.  But… don’t ruin her.  She’s having such a hard time.  She loved Arthur, you know.  That’s where all her anger is coming from.”

The woman would be the death of him.  Midas rolled his eyes and picked up his tablet again.  “You and I have very different definitions of ‘heartless, Guinevere.’”  He muttered.

“Please?”

Midas’ resolve faded into dust.  He would have leveled continents for her, so showing mercy to Jill meant nothing.  Until she’d gone bat-shit crazy, he’d liked the other woman.  “Fine.”  He flashed her a look through his lashes.  “For you, not her.”

Gwen leaned over to give his cheek a smacking kiss and it was magical.  “Thank you.”

Midas’ mouth curved, adoring her.  Everyone in the room had to see how smitten he was, but so what?  Any Bad folk in the world would kill to possess what he’d found.  Truthfully, Jill was kind of right.  His deepest instinct was to show Gwen off to everyone.  Not because she’d been Arthur’s, but because she was his.  Midas wanted to make sure everyone in Camelot knew she’d married him.  Bragging, arrogance, territorialism, pride… whatever you called it, he had no desire to hide his triumph.

Hell, he might just take out a billboard.

“Um…  Ma-ma-ma-maybe we should go ba-ba-ba-back to the he-he-he-henchmen problem.”  K-k-k-Katy suggested, giving him an annoyed look.  “S-s-s-some of us w-w-w-want to get this m-m-m-meeting back underway.”

Midas nodded.  “By all means.”

And so they resumed whining at each other and Midas went back to ignoring them.

“Do you think anyone would mind if I made some suggestions about running their crime syndicates?”  Gwen asked after a while.

Midas couldn’t care less about their opinions.  He was the most powerful man in this room and the others would do what Gwen wanted or face the consequences.  “I give you full authority to speak for us.”  He told her, supremely content.  “See if you can bring order to this god-awful mess.”

Gwen beamed.

Pleased that his True Love was happy in his evil clutches, Midas stopped researching her past.  He didn’t want to upset her, again.  Instead, he switched his attention to Galahad.

Was the knight Avalon’s daddy?  If not, then who was?

Questions plagued him.  Was Galahad the one who’d sent Gwen to Midas?  Why would he do such a thing?  Did he think he could use Midas to fight this war and then reclaim Gwen later?  That Midas would just give her up?  Whatever delusions the man had, Midas had a morbid desire to know them all.  He wanted to learn everything he possibly could about their relationship.  Understand everything Gwen saw in Galahad and everything he’d ever done with her.

Then he wanted the bastard to die.

Horribly.

Midas scowled, reading reviews on Galahad’s stupid television shows.  Damn it, they were all glowing with praise.  He needed to buy the TV stations and make sure even the reruns were canceled.

“Exactly!”  The Walrus bellowed, about God only knew what.  “I second the idea of a henchman school!  If any of you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it, because…”

“Maybe if you didn’t devour your oyster brigade by the dozen, it would be easier to hire replacements.”  Gwen interrupted, jolting Midas from his thoughts.  “Who would want to work for someone who might eat them at any moment?”

Midas’ head snapped up at the sound of her voice.  He’d thought Gwen would be too intimidated by the wicked crowd surrounding her to risk interacting with them quite so forcefully.  He should have known better. Nothing could scare this woman.  She seemed ready to take charge of the meeting with her usual outspoken bluntness.

He didn’t know whether to be proud or scared.

“Who wants to work for any of you?”  Guinevere continued, heedless of how dangerous it was to be at the center of so much Bad attention.  “Really, I think your only hope is an industry-wide commitment to less cannibalism and a higher quality of life for your employees.”  She arched a brow, glancing around the table.  “For instance, do you guys offer them any health care options?”

Silence.

The other Baddies squinted as if she’d grown two heads.  Actually, with more incredulity than if she’d grown two heads.  After all, Hansel and Gretel, the serial-killing conjoined twins, were sitting at the table and nobody was gaping at them with appalled fascination.

Midas’ breakable little bride didn’t appear to notice their dangerously curious expressions, but he sure as hell did.  He set the tablet down on the (annoyingly square) table, his body shifting even closer to Gwen.  It was probably an animalistic response, but he didn’t care.  Anyone who upset his wife was going to see just what a tawdry, feral animal he could be.

“In fact, if you’re going to be competitive in the market, you’re really going to need to improve benefits.”  Gwen tapped her pen against the notes she’d made on her legal pad.  “We should begin offering henchman pension plans.  Vacation time.  Assurances they won’t be killed in some fit of villainous rage.  That will improve employee retention.”

Twenty-two sets of Bad eyeballs blinked at her.

Guinevere looked over at Midas.  “Don’t you think?”  She asked guilelessly.

Twenty-two sets of Bad eyeballs switched to Midas.

Shit.  It looked like he was going to have to pay attention to the Round Table, after all.