The Trade

by Elizabeth Knox

  Anton lets go of me and leaves me alone in the room. It is dark, and I search for the switch on the wall with my hand, so I can see. I shut the door as well. I want a warning if he decides to come in here, and I don't feel comfortable changing where he can just walk out of his room and see me. It's bad enough I have to give in and use the clothes he had bought for me by one of his goons or someone else he controls with fear and money, but I have to get out of this damn dress.

  I go into the closet, smaller than the one in the master bedroom, but that's not saying much. It could still be a small room of its own. I find what he says, a small collection of clothes and opt for a pair of jeans and a cami, the most acceptable comfortable thing I see.

  I fall into bed, hoping that sleep will come as a mercy for me after all I have faced in the last few hours. Instead, I begin to cry against my will, and I hope he can’t hear me through the walls. I cry harder than I have ever cried in my life. My body is quaking with sobs.

  Thoughts of my uncle come back to me, the way he was before all of this mess. Jan saved me from an abusive relationship and gave me the means I needed to start my life over. He let me begin my life dream, which was now sitting in Seattle without me. My uncle showed me how to regain my confidence, my faith in my own abilities. He was a father to me, like one I never had since my own father never treated me with such respect and compassion. It is because of him that if I ever do have children, I will know how to raise and care for them. He is my example on what not to do.

  This is when it hits me, my life playing before my eyes like a movie as if these are my last moments on Earth. The reason I am crying and such a mess over all of this isn't just about my dead uncle, not at all. I feel like this because I am falling for Anton, or at least I was. If I didn't feel that way about him, it wouldn't feel like a Mack truck hit me when he hurt me in the most unimaginable way.

  Chapter 7

  The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.

  - Mahatma Ghandi

  Anton

  I look outside, through the large window that covers the back of the meeting room I am in, as I wait for all the other Clan leaders to leave. I have an important meeting with the king himself; Ion Petron. Well, also his queen, Mariana, since she went everywhere with him these days. She was a spitfire and technically the one with rights to lead the Clans, except for the fact that she is a woman, and this antiquated system means she doesn't actually get to take over. So, enter Ion.

  I can’t say that I am looking forward to this meeting. Not only am I going to have to tell Ion that I did not get a clear confession or information out of Jan Constantine, but I also have a lot on my mind regarding Jan’s niece, my beloved Natasha. I left her back in Florida under the protection of my men. I will be honest when I say it is more for me than her that they are watching. I don't want her to escape, especially before we have had a chance to work things out. Our relationship is strained, to say the least. Truly, it is barely there at all. I know I fucked up, but there are so many things at play here. I can’t just pretend like none of this happened and that I don’t need her by my side for more reasons than one.

  The room clears out, and the shades are quickly drawn so that I can no longer see the beautiful skyline of New York. I love Miami on principal, even Seattle is beautiful, but there is no other city in the world that looks like New York from high up. That part just cannot be beat.

  I sit down in a chair much closer to Mariana and Ion, feeling the pressure as their eyes turn on me. If I am scared of any woman on Earth, it is this one. Her power scares me, and even more, her lack of care that all the men around her do not want to take her seriously. She makes them take her seriously, even Ion. I can see it. It is a potential I see in Natasha as well.

  Ion sits there with his chin on his hand, leaning back in his chair. He looks comfortable, but I know better. This is intimidation. I would be scared shitless if we weren’t pretty close before all this went down with Mariana.

  “I want an update on Jan Constantine and his Clan, Anton. I want to know what you have found out about the attempt on my wife's life,” he says calmly, bearing into me with his gaze.

  “You are not going to like what I have to say,” I preface. There needs to be a warning label to make sure my head stays attached to my body. “Jan was not exactly cooperative, Ion. He told me nothing, even when we tried to beat it out of him and held a gun to his head. I had to take him out. At least he has paid for his crime,” I say, hoping that means something to the two of them. Mariana bows her head, her compassion showing. I am pretty sure when the Clans were warring over her she went on a few dates with the man. It seems Jan inspired love out of a few women, whether he deserved it or not.

  “What does that do to the Clan?” Ion asks, and I know what he means.

  “It leaves it under new leadership. Specifically, it is currently under no leadership,” I answer.

  “So, you killed a Clan leader and left it without leadership just because he didn't confess?” Ion hisses out. This is when my fear comes in, making me sweat. I had to make a decision in the moment, and I thought that was the best one. Now that I am in front of the man who actually gets to make that decision, I am feeling a little unsure of my actions. Jan's death could bring all kinds of consequences down on me, even though I was not the one who ended his life. “We needed to know all of the information before you acted. There is a possibility that we did not find the right person here. It is a complete possibility Jan was not the right man, especially since he didn't speak when pressured. You are going to regret this, if and when we find the person responsible,” Ion barks.

  “Anton, you shouldn't have,” is all Mariana says in that melodic voice of hers, her blonde hair a veil right now.

  The king and queen are not happy, not pleased one bit. “Who is the next of kin? Is there one?” Ion asked with an exasperated sigh. He wants to make this an open and closed situation for me, but it isn't that simple, through every fault of my own of course.

  “Jan has a niece, but no direct descendants. She is in her 20s’ and in my possession,” I confess. There is no hiding this from him, and I know he has no want or need for her with Mariana by his side. Mariana is worth much more to him than an indirect Constantine.

  “I guess that is something, but Clan Constantine will need to have someone appointed until the next of kin has sons that become of age to take over.”

  Mariana’s head shoots up, and like that she is back in the conversation. I think I know what is coming next because we have all heard it out of her mouth before now. “This is so ridiculous and sexist that you still do not allow women to be Clan leads,” she spits out with venom. She is not someone I want to be on the bad side of, but I don't exactly have the power to change this mandate at all. “It is time to make a change. We need to. Let’s be honest, things like this could keep happening.”

  Ion shakes his head at his wife, letting her know that he is not going to give any weight to her comments. I bet that he feels for her, that she is in his ear about to every day, but he knows just what I know; that it’s impossible. “So many of the Clan leaders are older, you should know that from having to look through them to date.” He spears her with a look, and this suddenly feels private. “They are traditional, Mariana. They will never vote to pass something like that even if we tried.”

  Mariana sighs angrily, her face turning sour as she looks between the two of us. It sends a chill down my spine, and suddenly, her father is in my head, the thought of that ruthless man chilling me to my core. He was quite a leader. We are still feeling his loss.

  Ion looks at me again, his focus shifting back to the task at hand. “You will have to take over Clan Constantine in addition to Clan Balan. You can see it as a sort of punishment for acting so irrationally when it came to Jan. I know many men might find this a happy time to be running two Clans, being given more power, but it is hard work, especially getting men who don't believe in you to answer to you.” I chuck
le darkly, knowing that if anyone had experience with that matter, it is Ion.

  “Now, tell me about Natasha, the one who is the sole living heir to Clan Constantine. What do you know, and what does she know?” I know what Ion is actually asking me. He needs to know if she could have been involved with this at all. Luckily for the both of us, I can tell she hasn’t touched any of this with a ten-foot pole.

  “She was closer to Jan, possibly living with him, or growing up with him considering she just walked in the door uninvited when we were in the middle of torturing him,” I say. “She was very confused and devastated with the whole thing when she saw us. She doesn't know anything about the clan or even about what Jan does. She thought he was innocent, until I mentioned that we had possible proof. So, she had no part in this whatsoever, just an innocent woman mixed up in the wrong family and in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I explain.

  “Then, why in the world are you keeping her as your own personal prize? Why would you not just let the girl go? I doubt she is going to talk if she saw what happened and believes there is a chance that Jan has committed the crime. I would have let her go,” he emphasizes, turning everything back on me. I will give him this; from an outside perspective, he is right. There is no reason to take her into our custody now, and it could have been to our advantage to let her live out her life. We would have come to her when she had sons who were older to make sure they were a proper part of the Clans. That's it.

  I have to tell Ion the truth, even if I kind of hate myself for it. “We were actually dating before this all happened. I had no idea who she was, or her me for that matter. It was the most ridiculous case of happenstance I have ever experienced,” I spit out, annoyed at hearing it from my own lips. Just my fucking luck. “I don’t want to lose her because of the call I had to make for the Clans, for the Clans’ safety. She doesn’t get it, and I have to make her understand. I just couldn't walk out of that house and possibly let her go forever.” I would never admit this to other men, but Ion is my friend, not just the king of the Clans. I can tell him almost anything, and he will give it to me straight.

  “How is she holding up?” Ion asked, true concern in his voice. Ion is a good man, even if he has to hide that part of him away to bring down the hammer most times. I believe it is only myself and Mariana that truly know of his character.

  “It’s not very good,” I say honestly. “She sleeps in a room across the hall and avoids speaking with me most of the time. She looks at me like I am something evil, and I don't know how to change it.” I shrug. I am not sure if there is anything other than time to fix these things, or at least to give me a shot to.

  “Then, why have you had your men spread the rumor around that she is your prize and before you try to weasel your way out of this. I have already heard.” Ion tells me, and I flinch. I actually hate that I have to do that. “Wait,” he says before I can respond. “You don’t want her to know she can leave.” He has guessed exactly what I am playing at, but I hope Natasha doesn’t catch on so quickly. She is a smart woman, though.

  “If she knows she can go at any moment's notice, she will leave and never look back. What Natasha and I have together is too good for me to let her just slip away. I just need time to make her remember and see through the large hiccup we have come across.”

  Ion nods thoughtfully, and that’s how we leave it, with a good luck and keep in touch. I am free to go back to Miami where Natasha awaits me. Will this be the day that I change her mind? Daring to hope is a dangerous thing, and I might as well let hope go and let the chips fall where they may as I do my best. It’s all up to her now, to accept the way I am showing her I am not the man she thinks.

  ***

  By the time I get back into Miami, it is time for a late dinner, and I plan on seeing if I could possibly have it with Natasha. That would make this exhausting day that much better. I keep my suit on, the one I wore to the meeting, and I go to the dining room to see that Natasha is, in fact, sitting there and waiting for her dinner to be served. I turn to one of my men and whisper to him, giving him an order that all non-essential doors be locked. I do not want her escaping me the minute she sees that I am here. I want a chance to start this over again somehow.

  When it becomes clear to her that I am going to stay and she is not going to be allowed to leave the room, Natasha stands up and moves to the other end of the table, a table made to seat 24 people. She has been quite good at avoiding me for many days now, staying locked up in her room or hiding in other rooms of the house when she knows I am coming. I almost would take her harsh words over this. This makes it impossible to make amends or show her anything about me.

  The food comes out, smelling delicious, and I call one of my men up to me, knowing I have to fix this. I tell him that he needs to remove sections of the table until it is small enough for four. He begins to do just that, holding back on Natasha’s food until she finds a new seat right across from me. It is the closest I have been to her since she left my hotel room in Seattle to go to work the very day that everything changed for us forever.

  I want to get back to what we were developing. I was certain I was falling for her and her for me. There is no reason other than the way she is holding this back that we can’t continue. I will just have to learn to be more honest about who I am.

  I look up at her as she chews her food and notice, not for the first time, the scar that runs along her jaw. It is the only flaw this otherwise perfect beauty has. Now that I know who her relatives were, I wonder who gave it to her. “How did you get that scar?” I ask quietly. I don't want to upset her.

  She sips at her wine before locking eyes with me. “It is in my past, and I’d rather not discuss it,” she tells me plainly. It is the first hint that I get of her history, one that may not be as spotless as I would have imagined when I met her.

  I reach out and trace the scar with my hands, amazed as she closes her eyes and lets me touch her. It’s the most progress I have made with her since bringing her back to Miami with me. “I want to know who hurt you,” I practically whisper, letting my hand go.

  Those hazel eyes fly open, and I am shocked and not happy with the hurt and anger I see there. “Do you mean besides you?” I watch her get up from the table and leave me here alone. I may not have expected it, but I should have. She has always been full of wit, which she can use against me when she is upset.

  Chapter 8

  “…And that’s how you know you really love them: you forgive. Even if they didn’t apologize.” - Forgiveness

  Natasha

  I pick up my phone, the only thing here that is truly mine, and I go out the white doors that lead to the pool. It is a gorgeously manicured area; palm trees, and other plants making it look like a tropical oasis. But, it looks rarely used. That is how most of the house feels other than the den and the bedroom where I stay, which only feel used because I am here. I know that Anton has an office in this place. I think it is probably the least lonely room in the house, but I don’t want to venture in there knowing that’s where I will surely find him. I don't know if I am ready to find him.

  I have on the most modest thing I could find for sunbathing, a one-piece black suit with a pair of shorts over it. I sit down on one of the chairs where I can just relax and look up at the clear sky. Miami is so different from Seattle where it is always cloudy or raining. There is a certain beautiful melancholy to it. Here, there is always sun, always a reason to be in as little clothing as possible. That is what had made it a fun trip for Bethany and I and exactly what makes it less than ideal for being trapped in a large house with a rich and powerful monster.

  I hate this. I will be the first one to admit it. I hate that this place makes me feel the most alone I have been in years. Knowing that I am the last of the Constantin’s makes me feel even more that way. Despite all the house staff and goons, it just feels empty. “Maybe if I am lucky, some alligator will come up from the water to the house and eat me,” I joke into the emptiness surroun
ding me.

  What I hate the most, though, is being so close to Anton, having gotten close to him in the first place. It leaves me stuck in this strange limbo that I do not know the way out of; either by sin or repentance.

  I was so used to the way he held me and possessed me, the way his lips felt when they were on mine. I remember how our bodies would just mold together after a night of intense sex. These are the things that make it hard to deny him any contact with me, even though he is not the man I thought. He is practically holding me hostage and showing his true colors behind closed doors when he thinks I don't know, don't see, and don't hear him. I can't let it get to me.

  But I miss all of it. I miss the way we drove each other crazy and the way it just all seemed to fit like puzzle pieces. I hate that I am in love with him.

  But, I am.

  I juggle my phone in my hands and wonder how much longer I will be allowed to keep it. I need to use it to keep up pretenses, or to get out of this mess. Either way, I am afraid, afraid to tell anyone anything because I don't even know how to get the words straight in my head much less out of my mouth.

  I dial a number I know by heart, my best friend who I oddly have not seen in a very long time. We usually see each other at least once a week if not more. She is probably wondering where I am and what I am up to at this point, even if she figures I am with Anton. She answers enthusiastically, and I smile to myself. This is my one reprieve from everything I feel. The only catch is I can’t tell her that I am not okay, that I am not supposed to be here. I can’t bring myself to drag her into this mess with the Clans when it could lead to her destruction. What kind of friend would I be then?