Chapter Six
The sound of ice cubes clinking into a glass followed by a steady stream of liquid does little to ease the tension in my body.
The sight of Mateo’s broad, impressive shoulders hugged by the fabric of his sharp, expensive suit makes me feel insanely attracted to this monster, even knowing I should run as fast as I can toward the door. It’s hard to reconcile all the sides of him I’ve seen tonight—the dream date, the monster, my new master.
I don’t really know the man before me, regardless of how I felt about him just an hour ago. The catalogue of his sins was read to me by Antonio in an attempt to make me feel better about the colossal mistake of trying to put down an animal like Mateo Morelli, but the reality of him isn’t so cut and dry.
I tug at the extremely short hem of my skirt as he turns around, offering me the small glass of amber liquid.
My hand trembles as I take it. “Now what?” I ask quietly, since he doesn’t seem inclined to speak.
“Now you belong to me,” he reiterates, as if I hadn’t been there the first time he said it.
“I got that part.” My gaze drops to the glass. My whole body feels so heavy, all I want to do is curl up with Lily and sleep, but apparently, we have to do this first. “What does that mean? What do I have to do?”
“Anything I tell you to do,” he replies silkily, lifting his own glass and taking a sip. It’s funny, after all this, now he’s finally drinking with me.
I don’t say anything. I still don’t know what that entails. Will he take me up on my offer to do dirty work for him? Does he even want my body at this point? After seeing me a sobbing mess with scraped knees, my skirt riding up my ass at an unflattering angle and snot dripping out of my nose as I clutched my toddler in my arms and rocked, I sort of doubt it.
There are plenty of other terrible uses he could have for me though, and my skin crawls just considering them.
“Your old life is done,” he tells me. “You’ll quit your shit job. Contact will be cut with your family and friends. I’ll take care of your lease.”
“What do you—what does that mean?” I frown.
“You live here now,” he states, like that should be obvious.
My mouth inches open, wanting to protest. I literally have nothing but the clothes on my back and the items in my purse. “I—I have—I have a—Lily, what about my daughter?”
As if I’ve lost my mind, he drawls, “Obviously your daughter will live here, too. I have a nanny for my own daughter; she’ll take care of yours when you’re working.”
“I thought I had to quit my job?”
“Yes, you work for me now.” He says it so matter-of-factly, and my heart drops at his words.
Nodding uneasily, I lift the glass of amber liquid to my mouth and take several long gulps. “Okay,” I say, covering my mouth until I’m sure I won’t projectile vomit at him.
It’s what I offered, but somehow hearing him accept feels scarier.
“You won’t be paid, not in the traditional sense, anyway,” he tells me. “Everything you and Lily need will be provided for you. If you want something in particular, you’ll ask me for it. You can choose to think of yourself as a prisoner, or you can make the best of it and put a more positive spin on things. Up to you.”
I blink, but all I can focus on is what he isn’t saying.
“And what’s the nature of this work I’ll be doing?”
“Anything I need you to do, anything I want. If I tell you to make me a steak dinner at 3am, you ask how I’d like it cooked. If I tell you I want to fuck you, you spread your legs. My wish is your command.”
I fight down the surge of humiliation, but my earlobes burn—a telltale sign. Nodding, I swallow the lump in my throat. “You tell me to whore myself out to someone, I ask you which someone?”
Frowning slightly, he says, “No. Well, if I asked, I suppose, but I won’t; I don’t share what’s mine.”
I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of doing anything for him now, let alone spreading my legs, but I’m above all else pragmatic. Even if this doesn’t feel like a victory, it is. My daughter and I are both safe, and that’s what matters.
If I have to spread my legs for the monster who would’ve killed her tonight, so be it. At least it’s an exclusive deal.
Taking another sip, he places his glass down and leans back, lacing his hands together across his torso. “We have another maid, Maria. She’ll show you the way of things tomorrow.”
Brow furrowing in confusion, I ask, “Wait, a maid? I’m just…I’m going to be a maid? I don’t have to do anything bad?”
A slow smirk tugs at his mouth. “Depends on your definition of bad.”
Sinking back into the chair, I breathe a sigh of nearly overwhelming relief.
Mateo cocks his head curiously. “You thought I needed you to bust some kneecaps or what?”
“Well, I didn’t think you were hard up for domestic help,” I say honestly, shrugging a shoulder. “I was picturing… I don’t know, seducing a senator and slipping a knife between his ribs during sex or something.”
Mateo snorts, bringing a closed fist against his mouth, his brown eyes dancing with mirth as he gazes at me from the other side of his desk.
I feel a little silly, but definitely not enough warmth to share in his amusement.
“I mean, I don’t think I need to take out any senators just yet, but if that changes, you’ll be the first to know,” he adds.
Ignoring his joke, I voice my greatest concern. “Is it safe for Lily to be here?”
Sobering, his expression turns more solemn. “As long as her mother doesn’t try anything stupid, yes.” Then, leaning forward on his arms, he meets my eyes. “Do not mistake my mercy tonight for tolerance. I promise you that if you even think of betraying me again, if you even begin to hatch some foolish, pseudo-heroic escape plan, I will not think twice about snuffing you out.”
I feel cold all over. Shrinking into myself, I say lowly, “I thought I wasn’t a prisoner; why do I need to escape?”
“You’re only a prisoner if you choose to be,” he maintains. “I can’t promise I’ll be nice to you. You did try to kill me, after all. You won’t be permitted to leave the premises without permission and an escort.”
Right. So obviously not a prisoner, just a really untrustworthy guest.
Left with no other choice, I nod my head. He’s wrung all my energy from me, and all I want now is to curl up with my baby and sleep forever.
“I need diapers,” I say quietly. “Lily still sleeps in diapers. I imagine my mother probably put a fresh one on her before bed, but I can’t guarantee it.”
Nodding once, he says, “I’ll send someone to get them. What size?”
“Four,” I say, watching him extract his phone from his pocket and tap out a text.
“Done.” He looks back up at me. “The room that will be yours isn’t ready, since obviously I didn’t expect any of this when I left the house tonight.”
Guilt wallops me, but I offer only a tired nod.
“Tomorrow, once we’ve all had some rest, we can get you settled in.”
“Will I be able to go back to my house? I need to get some of Lily’s things, at least. Some toys and clothes, her favorite bedtime stories, her baby doll, her blanket. She needs to have some of her own things so at least something feels familiar to her.”
Mateo seems to consider that. “Maybe Adrian can drive you over there. We’ll see. If you need a book for her tonight, I can show you where the nursery is. You can use one of Isabella’s.”
“That would be wonderful. After everything she’s been through, I don’t know if she’ll even want one, but maybe doing something as normal as picking out a bedtime story would be good for her.”
I don’t point out he’s directly responsible for everything she’s been through. Mateo rises, moving around his desk and offering a hand.
A bit cautiously, I take his hand and stand. It reminds me of earlier that night, back at the reception desk, when a similar movement made me feel dizzy with attraction. I don’t know if it’s the sedative they gave me or the weight of reality, but now I feel nothing. Mateo takes my drink glass and places it behind him on the edge of his desk, then releases my hand and plants both of his on my hips.
Given everything, I refuse to let my stupid, idiot body respond to him. It’s more or less closed for business anyway, malfunctioning due to high trauma and drug-induced exhaustion.
“I’ve gone easy on you. Things could be much worse,” he informs me, as if reading my mind.
I bow my head slightly. “I know. Thank you.”
---
“Hurry up, I’ve got other stuff to do today.”
I glance back toward Adrian’s voice in the hall, pulling open Lily’s dresser drawer and emptying the contents of our life into a cardboard box.
“I’m trying,” I call back. “I only have her summer clothes out. Should I dig out her winter stuff?”
Adrian pops his head in, watching what I’m doing. “You don’t have to do any of this. Mateo will buy your daughter new clothes. Just get the stuff you can’t live without and let’s get out of here.”
I cast a nervous glance at the window. “Shouldn’t you be keeping watch or something?”
“Why would I be keeping watch?”
“That’s why you’re here, right?” I ask, giving up on the rest of the drawers and going for her bedtime stories.
“No, I’m here to keep an eye on you,” he states.
“Well, I’m not going to be a problem, so why don’t you go make sure no one else is?”
He doesn’t respond, and when I turn back around, he’s gone.
A few minutes later, impulsively shoving a framed photo of me, Lily, and Rodney into the box, I lug the last of my things downstairs.
As much as I wanted to get Lily’s things, I’m terrified to actually be here. Antonio Castellanos obviously knows I failed my mission last night, and I can just imagine him ambushing us now.
“Okay, let’s get out of here,” I tell Adrian.
He takes the box from me and loads it in the car, then with one last look at my house, I climb into the back of Mateo’s car.
He’s not with me. He’s attending to business, whatever that means, but I sort of wish he was. It’s probably absurdly illogical, but even though he’s a monster in his own right, I’d feel safer if he was with me.
Once Adrian is back in the car and we’re safely away from my house, he looks at me in the rearview mirror. “What are you so worried about?”
“I think I have a lot to worry about,” I point out.
“You’re not worried about Mateo,” he says dismissively. “I’m Mateo’s guy; you were afraid of something else.”
I wasn’t as subtle as I wanted to be, but I’m not so good at deception. Gotta get better at that.
Looking out the window instead of at Adrian, I share just enough of the truth. “My husband owed a lot of people money.”
“Like who?” he asks, his tone even, not suspicious, more like he wants to take complete inventory of the problems so he can resolve them.
“I don’t know. It’s not like he kept me in the loop, I just… with him gone, I don’t know if those debts disappear, or if the loan sharks smell blood in the water and come to collect.”
“I take it he gambled a lot?” Adrian asks.
I nod, my spirits dipping. “Yeah. Rodney was a sinking ship, and I was the idiot with a bucket trying to dump out enough water to keep us afloat. But I couldn’t keep up. Every time I’d repair a hole, he’d create three more. I begged him to get help, if not for me, for Lily, and he just… refused.” I shake my head, remembering our many fights about it. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to leave him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I shrug, watching out the window. “Didn’t want him to sink.”
“Even though you didn’t love him?”
I nod, not even denying it. “Even though I didn’t love him.”
When I look at him again, Adrian’s nodding, watching the road as he tells me, “You might do all right with Mateo after all.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Based on that story?”
He smirks, glancing at me. “Yeah.”
“Oh, good,” I mutter.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that guy’s bullshit anymore,” he tells me. “Your existence has been absorbed by Mateo Morelli. Anyone your husband owed money to is likely to let it go before they bring it to him. And if they do, respectfully, he’ll take care of it. Regardless, it’s not your problem anymore.”
I don’t know how to accept that. I’m tempted to feel relief, but I’ve never had someone ease my burdens before—it’s always the other way around.
“Why would he do that for me?” I finally ask, still watching out the window. “Especially after last night. He should throw me to the wolves, not protect me from them.”
Adrian doesn’t answer at first, but then he says, “I think he likes you.”
I scoff, nodding my head. “Right. Well, he’s taken pulling on my pigtails a little far. I mean, this part’s nice, but since he just tried to set my daughter on fire last night, I feel like the signals are a little mixed.”
“He didn’t try.”
“Excuse me?”
“He didn’t try. He threatened. If he tried, he would’ve done it.”
“And you’re okay working for a man who would murder a toddler?” I ask sharply.
“I don’t have a choice either,” he states.
I frown at that, but before I can ask questions he probably wouldn’t answer, Adrian says, “Do yourself a favor. Don’t hold that against him.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what to feel about anything. He told me he may not be nice to me.”
“That’s probably true.”
“But it seems like he’s being nice to me. But then there was the crate, which… was unforgivable.”
“Would’ve been unforgiveable,” Adrian corrects.
Shaking my head, I say, “I could never do something like that. It’s not human. What if he would’ve dropped the match? You say it was only a threat, but it was a dangerous threat.”
“He had to make sure you got it. You did try to kill him,” Adrian reminds me.
“I didn’t try. I had the shit in my purse, yes, but I didn’t do anything with it. I wasn’t going to. Once I met him… I liked him.”
“Good. Then keep liking him,” he advises.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I’m still attracted to him physically, but I’m not that sort of woman.”
“What sort?” he asks.
“The sort who could ever care for a man who would put my daughter’s life at risk,” I state.
“Her life wasn’t at risk,” Adrian says, shaking his head.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
Adrian is quiet for several minutes, and I think he’s dropped it until he asks, “Do you remember the smell?”
Frowning, I look at him in the rearview mirror. “What smell?”
“Gasoline. It’s a strong smell, right? You draped yourself across the crate—the stench of the gasoline must’ve been so strong you could taste it, right? Would’ve been all over your clothes, your body.”
“I don’t…” I trail off, shaking my head, my mind replaying the horror of last night. He’s right, of course—get a drop of gasoline on your shoe when you’re pumping gas and you’ll smell it the whole way home, so I should’ve smelled it.
But I didn’t.
Staring at him in the rearview mirror, I wait, wordlessly. When his gaze meets mine, he says simply, “Water.”
“Water?” I repeat, dumbly.
Nodding, he says, “I told her to pretend she was a mermaid, trapped by the evil sea witch. Mommy was going to come save her.”
My mind is completely blank with confusion, and then disbelief. “They doused the crate… with water?”
Smiling slightly, Adrian says, “Don’t ever tell him I told you that.”
“But why?” I shift in my seat, sitting forward as far as my seatbelt will allow. “Why…?”
“He got his point across just as effectively without any of the risk,” Adrian states. “Mateo’s a showman. He had to perform for you.”
“He wouldn’t have really done it?” I ask, feeling a million pounds lighter.
“I didn’t say that,” Adrian says, carefully. “But he had no intention of hurting your daughter last night. He was pissed off and he wanted to scare the shit out of you, but… he didn’t actually want to hurt you. Like I said, I think he likes you. If you like him too… no point letting that get in the way.”
“Well, I don’t think he likes me now. He thinks I almost killed him.”
“It happens. You’re not the first person to try. Never try again,” he warns, glancing back at me. “You won’t survive betraying him again, I promise you that, but… Mateo could use a little sunshine in his life.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m Little Miss Sunshine, let me tell you,” I state.
“He was really disappointed last night,” he tells me. “Normally someone tries to kill him, he doesn’t even blink—he expects it. But he was genuinely disappointed to find out you were just playing him.”
Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Why are you telling me all this?”
Adrian glances at me a few times, then he says, “He went to an awful lot of trouble to make sure the woman who planned to assassinate him moved into his house. Not his smartest move, and Mateo is many things, but never stupid. Almost never. Occasionally, the right kind of woman comes along and throws a wrench in his gears.”
“He only met me last night,” I point out. “I mean, we had a nice date, but considering all that came after it? I can’t imagine much tenderness remains for either one of us.”
He shrugs, turning his attention back to the road. “Just telling you what I observed. Sometimes people just fit, you know?”
Indicating myself, I ask with no small amount of disbelief, “You think we might fit?”
“I guess we’ll see.”