Emotion choked my throat, and I didn’t trust myself to speak. My head bobbed.
“Let’s go.” Vincenzo looped his arm over my shoulder.
I let him lead me to the point of sale, where the wiry man shifted uneasily. Clearing my throat, I reached into my purse.
“That won’t work,” Vincenzo said quietly, his warm breath brushing my ear.
I rolled my eyes. “I won’t let you pay for all this.”
He snorted. “You won’t have a choice but go ahead. Try the card.”
I handed the AMEX over.
It declined.
The wiry man grew more agitated, looking between us. “I can try a different one, madame.”
Reality slapped me hard.
Suddenly, the emotions from earlier came surging back. The feeling of being trapped tightened my chest. This wasn’t happening.
“Let me call the bank,” I said, a knot of unease making my voice sharper than I meant.
Vincenzo let me pull away. He leaned casually against the counter as I dialed.
The quick call to my financial institution told me that my accounts had been frozen—by my father. Dread washed away the cozy feelings created from the shopping trip. I had the banker put me through to my financial adviser. That conversation was even shorter. My trust had been liquified.
Gone.
Every cent.
The trust made sense because it was tied to the family assets. If Dad was trying to gather his resources to pay the debt, he would need everything. But my private accounts? The ones I put the paychecks into from working for years as a lawyer? Those were drained because daddy dearest was a cosigner.
He hadn’t even asked me.
He’d tried to have me kidnapped.
I reached around to unzip the crimson dress. It would all have to go back on the shelves. The time spent here was a complete and utter waste.
“I can’t get these,” I muttered, cheeks flaming, as I went back to the store associate.
Vincenzo shrugged. “Then you’ll have to run around naked.”
I shuddered. “I have a few other outfits.”
“You have one.” Vincenzo pulled out his wallet and handed me a card. “You also have this.”
I planted my feet firmly in place. “No, I can’t accept that.”
I didn’t know where we stood. The sham marriage wasn’t that old. Instead of dealing with it, we were out playing at being a couple. In the chaos of everything else, that conversation had taken a back seat.
“It’s got your name on it,” Vincenzo smiled. “No limit. Ready to be used.”
I fingered the pretty crimson dress. With the loss of my job, I had no way to pay him back. I was completely at the mobster’s mercy. He didn’t point out that fact. He didn’t taunt me with my poverty. He simply offered me a solution.
What strings are attached with it?Lesson one in law school was always to read the fine print.
It wasn’t about the money. Not really.
