“Clear the table and fetch dessert.” Dom leans back in his chair, rubbing his swollen belly as he levels his wife with a cautionary look.
Valentina gets up and begins stacking plates.
“Don’t you have staff to do that?” I inquire, lifting my glass of water to my lips. Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen a single employee during my grand tour of this crumbling mansion.
“They’re on vacation,” Dominic blurts, grabbing his wineglass and knocking back a large mouthful of red wine.
Shock renders me speechless. He doesn’t have any staff.Is Valentina expected to manage this large dilapidated house all by herself?Briefly, I wonder who looked after the house during the period she was in Sicily tending to her ailing grandmother.
“Let me help,” I say, standing.
“That’s not necessary,” Dominic barks. “No made man is coming into my home and doing the cleanup. That’s a woman’s job, and my wife is more than capable. Sit down, Don Maltese, or you’ll insult me.”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but I have a better idea instead, and it’s best Valentina is not here when I make my second proposal to her husband.
8
VALENTINA
It’s a miracle I keep it together as I clear the table especially after throwing up what little I ate in the bathroom. But I hold it together until all the dishes are removed from the dining room, and then I collapse against the kitchen counter, breathing heavily as I squeeze my eyes shut and ward off tears. My fingers find their way to my silver locket, and as I rub the cold, shiny metal, I feel my panic and fear subsiding.
He’s getting braver, and it’s only a matter of time before he takes what he wants. I feel dirty, and I badly need a shower. My heart is racing, and my hands are shaking as I set about getting dessert, removing the meringue, bowl of fresh chopped fruit, and whipped cream I prepared earlier from the refrigerator.
I need to run now.Screw waiting another year until I’ve saved enough money. I’ll take what I have now and make the best of it.
After assembling the pavlova, I put it on the silver cake stand and walk toward the dining room, stopping at the door when I hear the tail end of the conversation my husband and Fiero are having. The door is only slightly ajar, but it’s enough for me to hear what’s being said.
“Dominic, you’re not stupid, and I don’t think you have a death wish.I made myself perfectly clear last night. This isn’t a negotiation. I’m telling you now it’s two million extra and I take Valentina with me tonight. I told you I’m needed urgently in The Big Apple, and I won’t have time to return to Miami until next week. Most made men would just take her, but I’m making this gesture as a show of respect to you.”
It's such bullshit. How dare they both sit there, after enjoying a meal I slaved over, and negotiate a trade like I’m cattle. They both make me sick. If it wouldn’t sign my death warrant, I’d riddle both their bodies full of bullets.
“The math doesn’t add up,” Dominic huffs. “I told you it’s seventy-eight thousand, one hundred and twenty-five per hour, based on the rateyouset when you said five mil for sixty-four-hours. This new deal is for five days, give or take an hour. That’s 9.375 mil. I’m not accepting two. It’s a goddamn insult to my intelligence. I know my wife’s worth. If you want to take her tonight, that’s the price.”
“I should just kill you,” Fiero says on a growl. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s furious because I hear it in his tone.
Right now, I wish hewouldkill my husband. Anger is quick to resurface. It’s not enough that Dom humiliated me on the phone and gave a fucking invoice to Fiero for the time we spent together today. Time Don Maltese spent taking care of me. Oh no. My husband has to go the full mile and actually work out the value of each hour Fiero spends with me, ensuring he gets every penny he believes he’s owed.
This is a new low, and now Dom’s got a taste of trading me for money, he’s rubbing his hands gleefully at the prospect of using me to beef up his empty bank account. I know what my future looks like, and I’d rather die than let it happen. I didn’t think things could get any worse, but this proves I was wrong.
I’m not staying here to become a glorified prostitute, handed over to the highest bidder.
This is my one chance to get away, and I’m not wasting it even if I won’t be able to see my plan through to the very end.
“I will pretend you didn’t threaten me, Don Maltese. I’d hate to have to report that to the board of The Commission.”
“Be my guest, Dominic. They’ll kill you themselves when they hear you’re in bed with the cartel.”
“I’m not in bed with the cartel!” Outrage underscores his statement. “I’m in debt to them! It’s completely different.”
“I doubt my colleagues would see it that way. I’m doing you a favor, Dominic. I’m giving you the means to pay some of the debt and the time to sort your shit with the cartel and walk away before it blows up in your face. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s 1.5 mil and Valentina comes with me now.”
“You said two!” Dom’s panic roars to the surface. He is such a fool to think he can make someone like Fiero Maltese bend to his will.
“Now I’m saying 1.5. Keep arguing and it’ll keep going down.”
A pregnant pause ensues for a few seconds.
“Valentina! Where is our dessert?” Dom roars, and I almost drop the cake stand.
