“No,” I repeated. “But bad things come in threes. I don’t want you to make something up, but I challenge you to find something good about this situation after your two ‘veins’ are opened up to me. Give me three so we’ll come out with four, with the main heart.”
He stared at me for an intense five minutes, at least. Then he nodded. “I agree.”
Rocco wrote something down.
I liked this. I really, really liked this. Putting everything on the table beforehand. We were hashing our shit out before we committed to each other. Marriage was not supposed to be a business dealing, but in an odd way, I thought that maybe it should be sometimes.I expect this of you. You expect this of me. You do for me. I do for you.And neither of us will cross certain lines. It removed a lot of the weight that felt like it had come crashing down on my back when he had first made hisproposal.
I sat up a little taller and really started paying attention when the mention of the police was brought up, how at all times I was to keep quiet, unless Rocco told me otherwise.
“Are you…involved in dealings you shouldn’t be?”
I didn’t expect Capo to be so candid, but he was. He nodded once without hesitation. “My hands are not always clean at the end of the day, Mariposa.”
“How deep?”
“Does the severity of the sin matter to you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Would it lighten your conscience to know that I only act out of vengeance and not for business gain?”
“I want honesty,” I said. “At all costs. If…if I ask. I need you to be honest.” In that moment, coming close to his honesty overwhelmed me. If I had too much time to think, I would want honesty at the table, and that might cut whatever we had going. I wasn’t sure what type of person that made me, to refuse to consider that he might do terrible things out of vengeance, and I would overlook them to have this.
To have him.
I deleted the thought as soon as it came. There was no room for emotion at this table. I felt none from him. There would be none from me.
He nodded. “I agree.”
Rocco wrote something else down.
This was how the conversation continued. Rocco or Capo would bring up a term, we would discuss it, and then we would either agree or not. If we didn’t, we went back and forth until we were both satisfied.
Money. I would have access to all of his funds after we were married. The millions and millions he had. He set no limit. However, if I left him or wanted to divorce him, or broke the “central” rules of our agreement, I would get nothing. Not even a penny.
“Final,” Capo said, his eyes never more serious. “I don’t believe in divorce. You are mine until I die.”
“But what…what if one of us becomes unhappy?”
“This arrangement is not about love, Mariposa. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, too defensively. “I do. You’ve said it. I’ve said it. I get it.”
His eyes challenged the statement, but he didn’t harp on it. “You take love out of this.” He motioned between the two of us. “Neither one of us will ever be unhappy. We have our terms, and those should keep us content. We both have a purpose for this marriage. I want loyalty. You want to live. Not all marriages are built on love. Love is a fragile house that crumbles. What we are building at this table will be untouchable.”
“Moving forward,” I said.
I’d receive a ten-thousand-dollar stipend until we were married. To buy food, clothes, and whatever else I’d need until it was a done deal.
We even touched on specifics such as: how many times we’d travel in the year. We could go over that, if we wanted, but not under it. Two, we decided, was an ideal number. He’d chose one place, I’d choose the other, and there was no three involved unless we went over that number.
The two men had been shocking me the entire time, so I decided to get one in on them. I told them that under no circumstance would I get ass implants. The idea was still fresh in my mind, and I made Rocco write it down. Capo grinned as he said, “I agree. No ass implants, or any cosmetic surgery, unless my wife requests it. However, I’d prefer if you didn’t. It would seem like a waste of money. Why paint the butterfly?”
After an hour went by, a knock came at the door. The three of us sat back, the conversation fading, waiting for Rocco’s secretary to take our lunch orders. My stomach growled loudly, and my cheeks flamed. Even though I had been staying with Keely, I hadn’t eaten much of her food, only when she made me. I was still helping her pack, but it never felt like enough.
Capo ordered for me. He ordered dessert for me, too.
“That was nice of you,” I said. I was too embarrassed to order for myself. I knew the food was expensive, and I’d never ordered anything like that before.
