The Devil's Contract

by Claire Contreras

  Amara thanked her, even though she knew nothing would ever just be normal. She had to try though. She had to let go of the past that she knew, and reinvent herself. She just wished she could do it without completely losing who she was.

  COLIN SAT IN his office, staring at the email on the computer screen for the millionth time in two weeks. He hadn’t expected Amara to respond to his hateful email. He didn’t think she would ever open it or read it. He cracked his knuckles and read it again, trying to figure out what it meant. Why did she even take the time to respond to him, only to delete her account shortly after? Colin didn’t understand Amara Maloof. He thought he knew her, but clearly he thought wrong. Her actions had proven that.

  After his father died, Colin was expected to take over the family business, which had proved to be tedious. The only thing Colin had ever wanted to do was help set people up to be financially stable. He’d convinced his higher-ups to go easy on him as he continued to be a financial advisor for the clients he’d previously obtained. Despite his mother’s concerns on the matter, Colin was sure he could pull it off so that his uncle, the vice president of Wolfe Investments, could handle the majority of the workload while he continued to do what he loved.

  That had been Colin’s plan before the load of his father’s will and investments was dumped on his lap, and he began the task of sorting through them. Never in a million years would Colin have figured that his father had his hands in so many different companies. Work was something they seldom spoke about, unless it had to do directly with Colin’s clients. His eyes grew wide as he scanned the pages, knowing his father would never have spoken to him about those kinds of investments. The kind that Colin was sure must be illegal and so was willing to do anything to stay away from. Still, the more he looked at it, the more intrigued he became. And, like everything that should remain untouchable always is, Colin knew his discovery had the power to burn him.

  AMARA KNEW THE moment she sat down in the swanky restaurant that she would be met by an older man. Amara shifted her seat awkwardly as she tried to readjust her underwear without making it obvious. Courtney had made her wear the latest pair that had been gifted to Amara by the underwear company she was working with. They were ridiculously small and uncomfortable. Amara raised a hand to her hair, smoothing it with her hand. She had, for the first time in a long time, picked up her hair in a fancy do. She actually felt exposed without it cascading down her back. Amara usually counted on its length to curtain over her face whenever she wanted to avoid intruding glances.

  Glancing around, she caught the eyes of a sophisticated man striding to her with as much confidence as grace. The waiter trailed behind him, pulling his chair out for him to sit across from Amara, and she could only stare at him. He was an older man with age lines in his face that made him look wise, but that didn’t detract from his extraordinary good looks.

  The man held out his hand, and Amara automatically placed hers in it. He watched her as he brought it up to his lips and placed a soft kiss over it.

  “Jasmine,” he said, his voice deep and masculine. “Piacere di conoscerti. I’m Samuel.”

  Amara liked his Italian accent and smiled at him as she took her hand back. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Samuel’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, in a way that made Amara feel comfortable with him.

  “Thank you for accompanying me this evening. As you can see, I cannot eat alone in this fancy restaurant, and I am tired of the women who have been keeping me company as of late.”

  A small laugh escaped Amara’s lips at the exasperation in his voice. She wondered why the hell he would contact Méchant for a date. He was too good looking, and assumingly too wealthy, to have a difficult time finding regular dates.

  “I’m glad you asked me to join you. I’ve never been here before.”

  “I assume not. Philip does like to keep his top shelf close to him.”

  “Top shelf,” Amara repeated.

  Samuel smiled. “Yes, the most beautiful, exclusive women in Méchant. The ones only allowed two clients at a time, if even that is approved. Tell me, how many dates have you been on?”

  Amara took a sip of water. She wasn’t sure she was allowed to talk about those things. Philip gave her pretty specific orders: “Get business information out of Samuel. Memorize anything he tells you, and report it back to me.” According to Philip, there were two men that could get her out of this bind before her two years were up, and Samuel was one of them.

  “Dates... just this one,” Amara said.

  Samuel looked surprised. “That’s nice. Six months, one date?”

  “Well, I’ve had other types of propositions, if that’s your question.”

  He nodded. “That is my question. How many?”

  Amara took a deep breath, letting out slowly before she spoke. She was sure she was going to need more than the two-drink minimum, if that was where their date was headed.

  “I’ve only had sex with one person —the other ‘top shelf’ woman, as you call us,” Amara said. “Two customers have watched, so I guess two times?”

  Samuel nodded. “Courtney,” he said.

  Samuel’s voice was low, and his gaze tore away from Amara to look over her shoulder. She was stunned that he referred to Courtney as such, and not as Chloe.

  “You know her,” Amara said.

  “Very well,” Samuel said, nodding matter-of-factly.

  Amara narrowed her eyes at him. “How?”

  Samuel smiled as he took a sip of water. “We may need something much stronger than this to get through that story,” he joked.

  Amara wasn’t amused. She studied Samuel’s face, trying to figure him out, but he just looked as if he was lost in thought. Finally, he exhaled sharply, ordered enough food for them to share—without consulting Amara —and got them a bottle of wine.

  “Malvagio is a company I started many, many years ago. Méchant is its French name, and how you know it,” he said.

  Amara folded her hands on her lap and sat back in her seat, but fixed her posture quickly when she felt the front of her dress shift, exposing too much cleavage.

  “It was a difficult time in my life, and I used the company to get my mind off of... things. Philip and I were friends from the university. He found Courtney,” Samuel said. His eyes dimmed when he uttered her name. “My life was difficult for me back then. I’d lost my wife, my children wanted nothing to do with me, and then there was Courtney. She was everything.” Samuel sighed and spun his glass of wine a couple of times on the table. Amara was so focused on the red wine making waves in his glass that she jumped in surprise when he clapped his hands together.

  “Well, enough about that. I don’t want to talk about her anymore, for now. How are you liking Méchant so far?”

  Amara struggled with how to answer. She had to force her shoulders to keep from shrugging while keeping a smile plastered on her face. Taking a breath, she answered as Vivienne taught her.

  “I love it.”

  Samuel smiled widely. “You’re a decent liar. I’m impressed.”

  “So... what do you do?” Amara asked.

  Samuel gave her an annoyed look. “I don’t want to talk about work.”

  “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

  “You.”

  “I don’t want to talk about me.”

  “You do know how this works, correct? I pay, you do as I say for the next... two hours,” he said, glancing at the expensive watch on his wrist.

  “Fine. I’m from New York, I have a degree in Marketing, even though what I really wanted to do was go into fashion, but my dad was dead set against it, and I listened. I’m twenty-two; my birthday is in two weeks. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been the head of a project involving a great lingerie company that’s on the rise in PB Marketing. Did I cover everything?” Amara asked, taking a sip of wine.

  Samuel looked at her for a long moment. He reminded her of Philip, with his calculating eyes and his charming persona. “Wha
t does Courtney do during the day? When you’re off at PB?”

  Amara frowned again. She didn’t understand what his fascination with Court was, but it was beginning to make her feel uneasy about telling him anything at all.

  “Look, if you want to talk to Courtney or find anything out about her, I suggest you go to Méchant yourself and ask. I’m not here to talk about her or what she does when I’m not around. What is your deal?”

  “My deal...” Samuel laughed. “My deal is that I want her back, and she’s sleeping in another man’s bed. That’s what my deal is.”

  Amara blinked rapidly as she shook her head slowly, it was a habit she enacted when she couldn’t comprehend why somebody was saying what they were saying. It was also her way of letting them know they were annoying her, without actually uttering the words aloud.

  “Like I said, go tell her yourself.”

  “I have a proposition for you.” His words overlapped her own.

  Amara leaned forward a little, fully aware that her breasts were now on display for Samuel. She also noticed that he didn’t look at them longer than at a glance.

  “I want Courtney, and you want to get out of there and go home. Find out what Philip is holding over her head, and I’ll make what he’s holding over yours disappear.”

  Amara laughed riotously. “How? Not even the Pope can make my problems disappear.”

  Samuel sat back in his chair and looked at her with his knowing eyes. “Maybe not the Pope... but I can.”

  “What do you want with Courtney?”

  “Just her.”

  “Shouldn’t you try to win her back somehow? I don’t know, let her have a say in this plan of yours?”

  “Tried that. My friend Philip won’t let me get close to her. He’s put up a fortress around Courtney that not many people can break down.”

  “She has clients.”

  “That watch. They always watch, never touch. Philip doesn’t either, he just likes for me to know that she’s in his bed. I’m beginning to think he wants me to go kill him in his sleep.”

  Amara’s gaze widened as she leaned back into her chair, this time letting her back rest against it, not caring if she looked like a slob in the uppity environment.

  “No shit,” she breathed, almost inaudibly.

  “I’ll pay you on the side,” Samuel added.

  “Why does he let you use the services? He let you take me out... why not her?”

  Samuel began to drum his fingers on the table. “Because he’s a cocky bastard that has control issues and likes to be in charge. This is his way of trying to keep me in line.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  He nodded. “I’ll have a car pick you up in two days.”

  WHAT IS IT they say you’re supposed to do when life throws lemons at you? Because Amara felt like life was throwing golf balls her way, and she couldn’t find her footing in time to duck for the next one that came at her. She was stuck. No idea about what to do. She didn’t know whether or not to tell Courtney about Samuel. As she stood in the dark corridor, waiting on approval to step inside Philip’s office, the only thing Amara was sure of was that she couldn’t talk to him about it. Placing her hand on the door handle, she took a breath and pushed it, stepping inside when he finally called for her.

  Philip signaled her to take a seat across from him. As usual, he busied himself with the papers on his desk. Amara always wondered if this was the most peaceful place for him to work. He was there often, coming and going with no thunder, so you never knew when to expect him. She guessed that in his line of work, whatever it was, it was best to leave no trail behind.

  “How did it go with Samuel?” he asked, glancing up at her for a moment before going back to his papers.

  “Fine, I guess. He told me he didn’t want to talk about business.”

  “What did you talk about then?” Philip asked. He said the words slowly, enunciating each one in a way that made Amara struggle to speak up again.

  “Me.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What about you?”

  “Just me. He wanted to know how I liked Méchant. He told me he started the company, it was called... I don’t remember, whatever Méchant is in Italian.”

  Philip rolled his eyes. “Malvagio. It’s still called that. That’s still one of our locations.”

  “Oh. Well, that was pretty much it.”

  Philip raised an eyebrow. “Really? He didn’t ask about Courtney?”

  Amara swallowed. “He did.”

  Philip looked at her expectantly, but Amara said nothing. When he realized she wasn’t going to say anything, he started playing with the cufflinks on his shirt and huffing a slew of curse words in French. His face started turning different shades, as it usually did when he was angry, starting with a light pink blush and escalating to lava red. Amara just sat there, wide eyed, staring.

  Finally, Philip slammed both fists on the table, causing Amara to flinch. “Damn him. I’m already dealing with shit from all different angles, and now Samuel wants to come in and try to scoop her off her feet again. Not going to happen. Do not tell Courtney any of this, Amara,” he said with a leveled glare. “If she catches wind, I swear to God... I have enough things on your father that will land him in jail.”

  Amara remained passive. She didn’t care about her father going to jail, as terrible as that may have seemed.

  “And your mother.”

  That got her attention.

  “Your mother will go right behind him. I have enough evidence of extortion, money laundering, and embezzlement to end your family. Think about that.”

  “I didn’t say anything! I haven’t even spoken to Courtney!”

  “Good. I can’t lose her. She’s my best asset right now.” He took a breath. “So he didn’t say anything about business? Nothing at all about his personal life?”

  Amara shook her head slowly. “Not really.”

  “Nolan contacted me...” Philip looked around, as if the rest of his statement was floating around his office. “He wants to see you soon. I’ll keep you informed on that.” He sighed and looked at Amara. “We have three investors in Méchant. As you know, I’m one of them. The other two remain silent, but you already met one, and Vivienne, as you know, is our face. You will be meeting one of the other investors when you get back to New York. There are a couple of activities going on in Méchant that you will have to be part of.”

  “When will I get to go back?”

  “Soon enough. You need to give me more information on your clients. So far we have nothing on them.”

  “Why?” she asked. “Why do you need to know what they’re doing and involved in?”

  He glared at her. “None of your business.”

  She scoffed at that. “They don’t want to talk to me about their real life. That’s why they seek us out—to escape all of that.”

  “They talk to Courtney.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, maybe Courtney has a magic vagina that makes them talk.”

  Philip snickered. “I wouldn’t argue that, if it weren’t for the fact that she wasn’t fucking them.”

  Amara sighed. “How much longer? How much more do I owe? I know I’ve already made at least forty-five thousand for you, including my work in PB.”

  Philip bobbed his head side to side as he calculated it. “That sounds pretty accurate. Maybe I should have hired you as accountant.”

  “I can trade what I’m doing here for that.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Méchant needs you. Maybe after you’ve done your duties, I will consider. If you want to stick around, that is.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” she muttered. Philip smiled.

  Amara stood up and waited to see if he had anything else to say to her. When he didn’t, she left his office and closed the door behind her. She realized, as she walked through the house, that she couldn’t keep this from Courtney even if she wanted to.

  To: Jasmine Oliver

  From
: Nolan Underwood

  Subject: Sorry

  Let’s take this slow for now until I can come to see you. What are your thoughts on all of this? Have you been with another man while you’ve been working there? How long did you say you’ve been there? I’m sorry if I’m making this feel like an interview, but I need to know these things. What’s your favorite fantasy? (The room layouts) What’s your favorite position?

  Nolan (Your favorite creeper)

  Amara thought about the fantasy room layouts. If she had a choice, as weird as it was, she would choose the dominatrix room. She pictured sex being very, very impersonal there. She knew it was why Courtney often chose it.

  To: Nolan Underwood

  From: Jasmine Oliver

  Subject: Re: Sorry

  You signed off as my favorite creeper. That was classic. If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been with another man since my ex, so this will be weird for me, but I’m fine with it. I’ve gotten pretty good training with the blindfold, so if you choose that room, I’ll be okay with that. All of the rooms are pretty dark anyway so it makes things easier, I think.

  I’m ready when you are.

  X,

  Jasmine

  Ps. Have you used the Méchant chat before? It’s like an instant message thing.

  To: Jasmine Oliver

  From: Nolan Underwood

  Subject: Date

  I haven’t used it yet. Do you want to? Let’s set up a date.

  -Nolan

  “WHAT DO YOU mean you had a date with Sam?” Courtney asked in a whisper.

  As soon as Amara had gotten home from Méchant, she rushed to Courtney’s room to tell her. She figured it wouldn’t be right, keeping something so big from her friend. Amara wasn’t surprised that Courtney was keeping her voice down. As it is, Amara had written it down on a sheet of paper just in case Philip had the house wired and was recording everything they talked about.