by Sam Mariano
“If you play by my rules, you’ll lose,” he informs me, the smile waning. “You’re my friend, Adrian, but don’t forget your place.” Leaning in just slightly, he says, “I gave you Elise, and I could take her away just as easily.”
“You don’t own her,” I grind out, my jaw locked so tight it’s painful.
“I don’t have to,” he answers silkily.
Slamming the glass down on the edge of his desk, I push away and head for the exit.
I almost walk right out the front door, but then I remember Elise. Storming back to the kitchen, I tap her on the shoulder, grabbing her arm and hauling her toward the door.
“What are you doing?” she asks, confused, glancing back at the bread she was just arranging on the plate. “I wasn’t finished with that.”
“We’re leaving.”
“Why?” she demands, looking more than a little disappointed.
I don’t have an explanation to give her, so I don’t say anything; I just haul her out of Mateo’s house reluctantly one more goddamn time.
Chapter Nine
I’m quiet the whole way home, stewing in a mix of anxious, self-conscious and murderous thoughts. Mateo’s cocksure attitude doesn’t usually get to me, but it does this time because he means it. For someone so goddamn paranoid, he would push me, even knowing what I’m capable of, because he doesn’t believe he can lose. He doesn’t believe he can be toppled.
I’ve never been so goddamn tempted in my life to help topple him.
He thinks he has all the power. He only has what he has because of me.
I glance over at Elise, beautiful, gentle Elise, watching out the window since I won’t talk to her. She’s all dressed up in a navy blue dress Mateo bought for her before we left, her hair pulled back into a neat up-do, little blond tendrils escaping. God, she’s so beautiful. Too beautiful. She sits in this boring-ass car, regal as a queen, and…
And he’d take her from me, just to prove he could. He doesn’t even want her, just like he didn’t want Mia when he first took her from Vince, but Mateo uses sex as a weapon. He uses everything as a weapon, and he knows how long Elise yearned for him. He’s kept it in his back pocket, never acting on it, rarely even encouraging it, but always making sure I knew.
Mere days ago I wanted to believe that was over, that now he has Meg and he’ll stop that shit, but I gave him too much credit.
Vince is right. Once you cross him, Mateo has no loyalty to you. I survived crossing him once, but he doesn’t want to fuck me; I won’t survive a second time.
Or he won’t.
Either way, it ends badly. Either way it’s not the life I want to make for Elise.
Never has regicide sounded so appealing. Maybe I should take over his goddamn family myself. Put in Vince, like Cherie suggested. If I got rid of Dante, I could probably do it. Joey’s older, but Joey loves Vince, he’d pass the torch without a struggle. He doesn’t want that kind of responsibility anyway.
Of course, Vince reminds me a little too much of Matt, and I’m worried what would happen to him if he had Mateo’s power. He’d probably end up being mean to Mia. I might not be able to control him. Our whole operation would be vulnerable, especially with all this shit we have going on with Castellanos right now. We won’t survive a change in management right on the heels of this, not without a major loss of people, at the very least. And he’s so young.
“I wish you’d tell me what happened.”
I glance over at Elise, emerging from the helpless rage that’s threatening to consume me. She looks so sincere, like she really wants to know why I’m upset, but I don’t feel like having another Mateo fight. I don’t feel like tiring her out that way. I don’t feel like adding to my already mounting fears that he could do what he threatened. As hard as she fell for him with no encouragement, I can’t imagine the agony of seeing him exert even a soupçon of effort to turn her head.
I haven’t even done a damn thing to claim her as mine. Aside from their claims that I bought her, anyway. I haven’t kissed her. I never touch her.
It’s like the goddamn car’s closing in on me.
“I don’t know if I want to help Mateo finish this,” I finally say, stealing a glance in her direction.
Her brow furrows with displeasure. “Why?”
“Because it’s not my problem.”
“Someone tried to kill him,” she points out, like I’ve forgotten. “They almost killed Meg.”
“But they didn’t.”
“But won’t they try again, if you don’t take care of it?” she asks.
“Probably. But that’s the life he chose.”
She doesn’t say anything else, but she turns her head back toward the window, watching the scenery fly by as we approach our apartment, instead of looking at me. Her obvious disapproval only makes me feel worse.
When we get home, it’s too early for bed, so Elise changes into her pajamas and goes in the bedroom, cracking open her literature book to read some Jane Eyre.
I don’t think I’m invited until she starts reading aloud, even though I’m still in the living room.
I duck my head in and she pauses, glancing up at me. “Want me to start over?”
I shake my head, since I already know what I missed. “Go ahead.”
She nods and picks up where she left off, reading as I peel off this goddamn suit and pull on a more comfortable T-shirt instead. It’s still hot as hell in this apartment for some reason, but I pull on sleep pants and climb in beside her.
When she gets to the end of the chapter, she puts her hand between the pages and closes the book, looking over at me. “Don’t you own shorts?”
I smile slightly. “I have a pair, but I don’t wear them.”
“It’s really warm in here tonight; you’re going to burn up.”
The burn scars creep down my hip, down my leg, but she’s never seen me out of pants, so she doesn’t know that. I just shrug, nodding toward the book. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
She cracks a smile, opening the book up. The sound of her voice relaxes me, melting away my troubles, making me forget about the stress of the day.
---
I don’t do a damn thing for Mateo on Monday.
I planned to, after Elise finished reading last night and curled up in our bed, her long blonde hair spread out across the pillow. Because I don’t want to fight him. I don’t know if I can win, and I have a hell of a lot more to lose now than I used to.
But then I dreamed about them all night. When I closed my eyes, Mateo’s hands were roaming every inch of her perfect body, his mouth on her neck, her eyes closed in rapturous pleasure. Him, with his goddamn Disney prince face, with his pretty gifts and his unmarred body, with his power and his wealth and his disregard for what’s right—he had no problem pouncing on Elise’s attraction to authority, I’ll tell you that.
When I woke up, I couldn’t stomach helping him. Sure, maybe another day where I don’t ferret out the rats in his own circle could bring him another day closer to his own demise, but you know what, the bastard dug his own grave. If someone else puts him in it while I take a personal day, that’s just too damn bad.
I’m calm by the time I head home. I’ve prowled the city all day, doing not a damn thing, and it was nice. My aggression has largely melted away. At a certain point I even thought about answering some of the calls I’m ignoring, because this isn’t a great time for it. With the Castellanos thing coming up Thursday, I should be focused, not scattered, not rebelling.
I walk through the door, expecting Elise to probably be making dinner. I put on a suit today even though I didn’t need to, and that reminds me I need to go to the dry cleaner.
As soon as I walk in, Elise lights up like a Christmas tree. She comes over and throws her arms around me, so close to my face I think she might kiss me, and my heart nearly gives out. She doesn’t, she just grins at me, but like I’m a goddamn prince.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
&nbs
p; “Thank you,” she says, a huge grin lighting up her beautiful face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I don’t know why I’m being thanked. I try to remember if I did anything worth any measure of gratitude before I left this morning, let alone this level, but I come up blank.
She lets go of me and steps back, all but skipping to the counter. My heart stutters then sinks when she leans down and smells a huge bouquet of pink and lavender roses. They’re in a cube vase, tinted purple, and I can see the card sticking out of it.
The white card, with the gold edges.
Mateo’s cards.
I go to it like a magnet to a refrigerator door, plucking it from the flower arrangement and reading it.
“That dress. Oh, my god. I’ve never seen a prettier dress in my whole life.”
She keeps talking, but the sound of her voice is drowned out by the tidal wave of rage crashing through my veins.
“I didn’t even know Aladdin was playing,” she gushes, clutching an envelope, still grinning at me, still not catching on that I have no idea what the hell any of this is.
Well, I do.
Of course I do.
But she doesn’t. She apparently thinks all of this is from me. Because she doesn’t recognize his card.
I’m going to meet him at the gym tomorrow. Take him up on that open invitation. Because I’m going to beat the living fuck out of him.
“I’m so excited!”
I force myself to emerge from the rage fog and look at Elise, beaming, happy. This is what I wanted, right? Sure, I wanted to be the one to make it happen, but she thinks I was. In all likelihood, she’ll never know I didn’t as long as I fall in line.
I feel like Vince right now, and I fucking hate it. Only I’m not, because he doesn’t actually want to steal my girl—he just wants to show me how incredibly easy it would be if he decided to.
Elise might as well have a lit sign above her head with an arrow pointing at her, announcing, “So easy!”
Placing a hand on mine, she says, “Now that you’re here, I’m going to get dressed. If we want to make dinner before the show, we have to get going.”
She disappears into the bedroom and I lean against the counter, trying to get my bearings. The roses seem so guilty, like they’re complicit in this scheme. I want to dump them down the garbage disposal and watch the blades rip them apart.
I want to tell Meg what he did to Mia.
I’ve covered his ass so many times, and this is how much loyalty he has to me.
Elise emerges, and I forget all my feelings of vengeance. She looks incredible in the long dress he had sent over for her. It’s so sexy, with a split clear up the left side. Her entire smooth, perfect leg is visible every time she moves, and then she strikes a playful pose at the end of the hall, and it’s not just for a second. I have to shift, hoping there’s no visible evidence of the arousal that’s just hit me like a truck.
He must like her in blue. He bought her blue again. To match her eyes. I’m never buying her anything blue again.
“Wow.” I don’t even mean to say it, it’s hardly more than a breath, but Elise shines even brighter, basking in the compliment.
She flexes her ankle, showing off the nude pumps on her feet. “These aren’t even as uncomfortable as I thought they’d be,” she tells me, looking down to admire them.
I recognize the red soles. He always bought Mia that brand.
I’ve never felt sorrier for Vince than I do right now.
She comes over and drapes herself on me again, hugging me, lingering close. I think she’s gonna kiss me again, but she doesn’t. Maybe she’s giving me a chance to. I don’t.
“This is gonna be fun,” she tells me.
I nod my agreement, forcing a smile.
---
When we get to the restaurant, I’m relieved to find the reservation’s in my name, not his.
I’m not psyched this is where he sent us, since the bill’s going to be astronomical, but Elise is enchanted. The setting is romantic—we’re seated near the bar at a small table for two, but there’s candlelight and soft music that she keeps absently swaying to in her seat. Whatever fruity drink she ordered seems to be doing good things for her. She looks so happy. So vibrant. I want to be able to do stuff like this with her all the time.
Goddamn Mateo.
I hold my breath when the waiter brings over our bill, but when I open it up, it’s already been paid.
Hell, if I would’ve known he was paying, I would’ve ordered a bunch of shit I didn’t even want, just to be petty.
Elise had two drinks, so she’s loose and having fun as we leave the restaurant. On the way to the car, she reaches down and grabs my hand. It’s only for a minute, since she has to release it for me to open the door for her, but the way her blue eyes twinkle as she slides in almost stops my heart.
God, this girl.
Next is the show. Since dinner and the tickets were paid for by Mateo, I go ahead and buy us drinks for while we watch. I probably shouldn’t let Elise have another, since she’s still pretty happy from her drinks at the restaurant, but I do anyway, because she’s having so much fun. Every new scene change, she grabs my arm, touches my thigh, pats my hand with excitement. She’s never so touchy. Her face is lit with pleasure from the time the lights dim until the last curtain falls, and then she’s standing and clapping her hands, throwing her long blonde hair back over her bare shoulder and clapping some more. A little reluctantly, I stand beside her, and she rewards me with another beaming smile.
As we all file out of the theater, she grabs my hand again. It’s a nice summer night, not too hot, no wind. Instead of following everyone to the parking area, Elise dawdles, sighing and swinging my hand.
“Let’s just go for a walk. It’s so beautiful out tonight.”
I’m inclined to agree, and seeing her like this makes it even more beautiful. I’m not much of a hand-holder, but I wouldn’t let go of her hand right now for anything.
“We should go out more often,” she tells me, leaning into my left side.
“We can go out whenever you like,” I tell her.
“I wasn’t sure. Also I didn’t know how much fun this would be. I went to a show when I was 14, my first one. My mom took me and my friend, and it was magical. I loved it. But I’ve never gone with a guy before.” She gives me another mysterious little look. “Actually, this was kind of my first date, I guess.”
“Well, I hope it was a good one,” I say honestly.
“It was a great one,” she tells me. “I always used to…” She trails off, laughing a little. “This is going to sound so boring and lame compared to this, but back when you used to tutor me, I always used to imagine us going out one day—not like this, just, like, to a bookstore, because I knew you loved books. And if we’re being honest here, sometimes I hated the books you picked, but I didn’t want you to think I was stupid, so I tried to like them.”
This surprises a little laugh out of me. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve never thought that.”
“I always had these daydreams that we could go on an outing—like, I’d imagine you suggesting it one day while we were studying, and us grabbing coffee and a pastry, and picking out books. The bookstore first, so we could do the coffee and pastries after and discuss the books we bought, of course.”
“That sounds… perfect.”
She nods vehemently, glancing over at me. “Not that this wasn’t. Because it was. Good job, A plus, gold star. This was awesome. But I think our next date should be my books and coffee date.”
“Our next date, huh?”
She swings my hand, nodding, not looking at me. “Assuming you ever ask me on another one,” she says lightly. “You’re obviously in no rush.”
I don’t know what to say to that. She’s right, I’m not, but she makes it sound like a bad thing. “I didn’t think you’d want me to be,” I finally say.
“Why?” she asks, glancing over at me.
I
shrug, brushing my thumb across hers. “You didn’t really get much of a choice in all this. I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
“You could never make me feel pressured,” she says, like that’s an absurd thing to say. “You’ve waited for me for five years. You waited for me to grow up. How much time do you think I need?”
“But you didn’t even know I was waiting for you all that time. You didn’t know you were going to get passed off to me. You’ve said time and again that you feel like I bought you, and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. I don’t want you to feel like I own you.”
“What if I wanna be owned?” she asks lightly, flirtatiously. “Maybe you should try taking what you want and see what happens.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I think I should’ve stopped you after the first two drinks.”
“Yes, because I couldn’t possibly mean that,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically.
There are a lot of reasons I don’t think she means it, but I start small. “I’m older than you.”
“That’s sexy,” she states.
It’s a little disarming to hear that, but I hold onto my objections like they’re gospel. “And two weeks ago you wanted someone else.”
Her smile drops at that one. “I didn’t want him two weeks ago,” she mutters, watching the sidewalk as we walk. To my immense regret, she also drops my hand. “I didn’t want him after the Mia thing. I told you that. I get that it’s weird that I liked your best friend, but to be fair, you never once indicated any actual interest in me. Never. I waited; I searched for it, and nothing. We spent so much time together for years, and you never once tried to kiss me or touch me or spend time together outside of our studying. And I enjoyed that, obviously, but… it made me think you weren’t interested in pursuing me. I had no idea you were doing all that for me.”
“But when you found out, you said no,” I point out. “When he first told you that you could go with me, that he’d let you leave… you said no.”
