I’m on the way back with sandwiches from the local deli when I start to feel like someone is watching me. I shouldn’t feel this way since I’m miles and continents away from those that know me, but I feel a shiver run down my spine along with the icky feeling of eyes on me.
Taking off in a light jog, I make my way back to the house in minutes. Slamming the door closed behind me, I scream when I see Nico leaning against the table waiting for me.
Letting out a deep breath, Nico sounds like Roman when he finally speaks, “Donde has Estado Amalia?”
My panic is forgotten with the harsh tone of his voice. I haven’t answered to anyone in years, let alone someone that barely knows me. “Out.”
“Out? That’s it? I was worried something might have happened to you and you just say out!” Nico seethes slamming his hand on the counter, spit flying from his mouth.
Walking past him I put the deli bag on the counter, pulling out our sandwiches, I sit down and begin to eat. I’m done talking to him about it. I finish my sandwich, I don’t care that Nico hasn’t even attempted to eat lunch with me. That’s what I tell myself at least.
Nico
I have been meeting with Amalia’s father and one of my friends for a few days now. I’ve been trying to figure out what he wants with her so badly he would come here. I know I should tell Amalia that Hernando is demanding for her to go home and I can’t put her leaving off any longer. Something isn’t right. I’ve been a contract killer for a long time now, and I have learned to trust my instincts, they have never lead me wrong. They are screaming at me that something isn’t what it seems with him.
I spent last night stalking Hernando’s movements to see what I could find out. My friend says he plans to marry her off but I know my Princesa, and she wouldn’t go along with that. I walk into the house we’ve been staying at expecting to see Amalia and to apologize for how I acted; making up some lie as to where I’ve been. Only, She isn’t here. I don’t even know where she would have gone since she barely likes to go into the backyard alone. Hernando couldn’t have come here while I was gone. Could he?
Calling out her name, I go through the few rooms in this house. There is no trace of a struggle. I stalk into the kitchen where a small note sits.
Gone to town. I’ll be back with lunch. -Amalia
Town? She left the house to go somewhere on her own?! Doesn’t she know someone could take her and I wouldn’t be able to find her! The door slamming pulls me from all the horrible thoughts running through my mind.
Amalia screams when she sees me leaning against the table. I know I must look crazed because I am. Letting out a deep breath, I finally calm my racing heart enough to speak, “Donde has Estado Amalia?”
“Out.”
“Out? That’s it? I was worried something might have happened to you and you just say out!” I seethe, slamming my hand on the counter behind me, spit flying from my mouth.
Walking past me, Amalia doesn’t say anything else. I want to spank her, hold her, fucking let myself love her, and keep her locked away where no one can ever get to her. I need to think. This woman drives me insane, begging me to paint the world red if it means I can keep her as mine.
Amalia
It’s been three days since the incident. Nico has taken to sleeping on the couch during that time, we don’t speak outside of my ‘training.’ While we do eat together still, I never expected his silence to hurt so much.
Nico has been leaving for hours at a time, and I want to follow him, but it’s not really any of my business where he goes or who he is with. All I know is when Nico comes back, he immediately showers then calls someone. The door closing lets me know he is back for the night. 3, 2, 1, I shut my eyes pretending to be asleep as the bedroom door creaks open. Once the shower turns on, I tiptoe out of bed in search of his phone. I see he has it plugged into the charger next to the couch here. Pulling the phone to me, I sit on the edge of the couch as it powers to life. I need a pin number to open it. Damn it.
Tapping my chin with his phone, I try to think about all our conversations, but I don’t remember anything significant. I hear Nico turn off the shower so I know I don’t have much time left. The bedroom door opens faster than I expect and the phone clatters to the floor and going under the edge of the couch. Shit! I’m on my knees trying to reach the phone when I hear his cough.
“Princesa, what are you doing?” Nico questions, taking in my position.
I scramble to my feet. “I dropped something.”
Turning I walk towards the kitchen, hoping he will let it drop. Pulling out a bottle of water, I start to uncap it when I hear the vibrations on the wood floor. I can tell Nico wants to say something, but he walks to where his phone was at.
Meeting my eyes, he bends down and pulls the phone out from under the couch. “¡Bueno!”
I quickly close the bottle, making my way to the room. Nico’s hand reaches out, grabbing my wrist, keeping me trapped here. Hanging up the phone, he tosses it on the couch.
“It’s your birthday.” Nico can see the confusion on my face. “The unlock code is your birthday. Now, what were you hoping to find? Dime. What were you looking for?”
My birthday? How does he even know that? I’m struggling to understand how Nico knows when I’ve never told him.
“My birthday? Why that?”
Muttering under his breath, I catch the words, I looked into you. Cutting him off when he opens his mouth, I seethe, “Looked into me? Like I was what? A criminal? You know what, I don’t want to know. Just tell me, where are you going all the time?”
Catching me off guard, Nico answers but it wasn’t what I was expecting. “Meeting your father.”
The water bottle drops to the floor; my father is here. The only reason I can guess is he’s here for me, but I don’t understand why. He hasn’t ever shown that he cared at all, definitely not enough to fly from Brazil to Australia. I need to meet with him. I need to find out what he’s doing here, to find out if he misses me. There are so many possibilities running through my head that I can’t keep track. Nico shatters all of my hopes when he speaks.
“He wants you to go home. He has arranged a marriage for you.” I can tell Nico doesn’t care for him with the disgust dripping from his words. It’s not the first time my father has said he would do just that. I’m on autopilot. The shell of who I used to be breaks through my skin.
“When do I leave?” I ask, not daring to meet his eyes, so I don’t see the pity.
Nico doesn’t speak. Instead he does the unexpected. Tilting my face up to his, Nico does what I have wanted from day one. Nico kisses me like he has to do it in order to breathe. Breaking away, he shatters my dreams with one word.
“Tomorrow.”
Masking my pain, I clear my throat and push against his chest, “I should go pack then.” Nico opens his mouth but seems to think better of it. Nodding his head, he enters the unlock code, submersing himself back into what I guess is either work or a woman.
Closing the door behind me, I make my way to the bed. Sitting down I rest my back against the headboard and bring my knees to my chest. How could Nico kiss me like that and then say that to me? He hasn’t even asked me to stay.
I don’t have much to pack at all, a few scattered clothes are all I own. Sighing, I grab a carry-on from Rosalina’s closet and throw all of my belongings inside. Finding Nico’s training schedule on the nightstand, I tear off a piece of paper and write a letter to Nico.
Ripping off my clothes, I put on one of Nico’s shirts instead of my own. Tossing and turning I try to sleep, but I keep replaying everything he has told me in my head. I have only been laying in this bed for a few minutes when he walks in lying next to me.
Morning comes entirely too early. Looking over at the clock, I see it’s only eight AM, and someone is already banging on the door. I throw the blanket over my head in hopes of drowning out the noise.
“Damn it!” Nico yells, jumping out of bed and heading to the door.
> I can hear the voice of a man I don’t know in the other room. It’s time for me to leave. Slipping on another of Nico’s shirts, I pull on a pair of jeans and my Vans. With a look around the room, I close the door and make my way to the man waiting on me. I recognize him, he was at the deli the other day when I picked up our lunch. Nico grabs my arm just before I walk out of the small house. Neither of us says a word. Placing the letter in his hand, I give him one last smile.
Walking away from Nico may be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Letting my father’s lackey lead me away, I look back over my shoulder at the one person who understood me. Nico is still clutching the letter I just handed him. I couldn’t form many words, but I think he will understand them.
The Knight didn’t save the Princess. Instead, she walked away with her head held high as her world came down around her. You said you wouldn’t let anyone else hurt me. You lied. -Amalia
Amalia
The lackey leads me to the car and opens the door to reveal my father inside. Asshole couldn’t even get out to see me. Sliding into the back seat, I wait for him to speak.
“Amalia,” my father finally breaks the silence.
Looking over at him, I hide my emotions as best I can, “Si, Senor Valentine?”
Huffing, he looks over my outfit raising his eyebrow at my clothes. “A man’s shirt? Honestly, Amalia, were you fucking him too?”
I shrug, picking at my nails. I won’t acknowledge or deny that question. “Why did you come for me?”
Chuckling, my father hands me a folder, “Meet your fiance.”
Apparently, my father’s age has made him lose his mind. I timidly open the folder and am met with a photograph and details of a man I have never met. Name: Carlos Perez. Age: Twenty-eight. Worth: eight-million dollars. Well, that answers the why.
“I won’t do it,” I seethe, I would never marry for less than love —at least not willingly.
My father hands me another folder without a word. Opening the envelope, I see Nico’s face looking back at me. I don’t understand.
“Good, you do know him. I did some digging on Nicolas Rivera. If you don’t comply with the marriage… I will have someone kill him since you seem so fond of him. Understand?” he asks, his grin is one that would rival the Cheshire cat.
Nodding, I turn my attention to the window, to the life I wanted passing by me in a blur. We park just a few minutes later at the same airport I entered this country at almost a month ago. Climbing out of the car, I board the plane and head straight for the drink bar. The stewardess is waiting to make me a drink — I take the entire bottle of Vodka instead. I can see the disgust in my father’s eyes, but frankly, I don’t give a shit. Slouching down in the chair, I fasten the seat belt and get ready for this twenty-hour flight. Closing my eyes, I attempt to sleep since it’s still somewhat early and I don’t want to speak to anyone.
I’ve been asleep for hours when I’m being woken up by the stewardess. “Ma’am, would you like something to eat?”
Uh, no I want this to all be a bad dream. I don’t tell her this, she is just doing her job after all. Giving her a small smile, I ask for a yogurt and a coffee, I’m not really all that hungry, but I can hear Nico in the back of my mind fussing at my lack of food.
Picking up the folder for Carlos, I open it and begin to read about the man I am going to marry. He isn’t my type, and I don’t know why he would go along with this. There is something about Carlos that gives me an uneasy feeling. I’m lost reading all about him when our pilot comes over the speaker to let us know we will be landing in less than an hour. It doesn’t seem like that long ago I was lying next to Nico.
My father speaks, and I don’t realize until he is practically shouting my name. “Sorry, sir.”
Blowing out a puff of cigar smoke, he motions for the others to leave the area, “When we land you will leave the airstrip with Carlos.” Holding up his hand to silence me, he continues, “You will be married within three days. I told you that I would marry you off so this shouldn’t have been a surprise. Once you are married, Carlos will then be in line for my position.”
I simply nod. There are no words I could say to change his mind, and while Hernando Valentine may be an asshole, he keeps his promises. He’s right, he did tell me that, I just always thought he would care about my feelings —I was wrong. Time is a blur before I can even process everything it’s time to leave. Time to face the man I will marry.
Walking off the plane, I see him standing next to a luxurious sports car. Carlos Perez in the flesh. He isn’t an ugly man, but I can tell there is a serpent crawling under his skin just waiting to strike. Carlos shakes hands with my father entirely bypassing me. Prick. Finally turning to me, Carlos motions for me to get in the car. Before I can open the car door, I feel his hand on my arm. He is mad.
“Take off that shirt. Now. You will not sit in my car with another man’s shirt on, do you understand me?” Carlos spits out, shoving me against the car.
Snatching my arm away, I glare, “Fine. Give me a minute to change it.”
His hands are on me, ripping the shirt down the middle, I am left standing in my sports bra and jeans. “You want to look like a whore, then, by all means, dress like one. Just remember you are now my whore.”
Amalia
His whore? This man has lost his mind. Opening my mouth to snap at him, I am stopped when he swings his hand making an impact with my face. I really wish people would stop slapping me. Turning back to Carlos, I see the fire in his eyes; the look reminds me of Dmitri. Keeping my mouth shut, I slip the fabric off my shoulders and put what’s left of it in my bag.
Standing proud, I meet his stare, “Anything else Carlos?”
Grunting, Carlos pushes me inside the car and slams the door sealing off the last escape I have. Carlos drives for nearly half an hour before he pulls into a gated home. Parking the car at the front steps, I move to get out of the car, but he grabs a fist full of my hair keeping me in place.
“You will be a dutiful wife, or you will be punished. Do you understand?”
Nodding, I whimper as he tugs harder against my scalp, “I understand.”
Carlos lets me go, motioning for me to get out. When I walk in the house, I see a young woman standing near the entrance, giving her a small smile. I am met with a glare while Carlos is given a sultry look. Well, I can tell who has been keeping his bed warm, I muse. Snapping fingers draws my attention back to him, turning on his heel he motions for me to follow him up the stairs.
“This is our room. Now, I want you to strip and lay on the bed. As my wife, I expect to be taken care of. Otherwise, I have no use for you after the first month,” Carlos explains, uncuffing his suit jacket.
I’m so confused. First month? My confusion shows, sighing as he unbuckles his slacks Carlos continues, “Your father won’t sign over the business to me until then. Now, fucking strip.”
Peeling my jeans off and underwear, I lay on the bed waiting for Carlos to do something. I don’t wait long. Crawling on top of me, he doesn’t give me a chance to move before he spreads my thighs and driving forward into me. I’m completely dry, and I whimper at the movements. Carlos on top of me and my inability to do anything remind me of Dmitri. I don’t try to hold back the tears. Grunting, Carlos stills coming inside of me.
Rolling over onto his back, Carlos looks at me grinning, “You dear Amalia, are going to be perfect.” Cupping my chin, he wipes a tear from my cheek, “Get dressed. You have guests to entertain tonight.”
Walking naked to the door on the other side of the room, I enter the large bathroom and make my way to the shower. This will be my normal it seems. Carlos forcing himself upon me, followed by a scalding hot shower to wash it all away. I will make it out of this ‘marriage’ alive, maybe not as the woman I was but I will save myself. Steeling my resolve, I quickly wash away the tears and get ready for the people he has coming.
Opening the door to what I am assuming to be a closet, I find dresses in my s
ize along with heels in every color. I pick a simple black dress and black heels for the night since I don’t know these people. Leaving my hair down, I let it fall into soft curls framing my face. I look at my reflection one last time before I walk out of the bedroom and down to where the young woman from earlier is standing.
“Ma’am, Senor Perez is waiting for you in his office. This way please.”
Following the woman, I look around at the opulence of the house, the marble flooring and portraits on the way tell me that he is trying to impress people. Stopping in front of a large door, she presses a button on the wall to tell him we are here. Carlos swings open the door —a sadistic smile spreading across his face— letting me walk inside. Carlos shuts the door in her face as he grabs my hand. Looking down at our interlocking fingers, I go to where he is leading me.
Diamond B!tch Page 6
