I walk into my office and close the door softly behind me. Only then do I dare to breathe.
If Ransome could tell that I was preoccupied, he didn’t let on. Even still, I made sure everything that needed to be taken care of was. From his coffee to his meetings to the way I am dressed, every detail was for him, as it should be, to ensure that my job is stable.
Because, after seeing the conditions my siblings are living in, it is imperative that my job is stable.
I don’t want to think about it. About the messy kitchen or the cigarette burns on the couch or what else might have cigarette burns on it. I may or may not have a few scars on my body, and I can’t stand to think that my brother and sisters might too.
I don’t want to think about how hard Eliza is working to provide on a daily basis, or the kind of weight Gianni must feel being the man of the house at seventeen. I don’t want to think about Bella’s tears and pleas or the way she looked at me when I said I would get them out of there as soon as I can.
I meant it. So much so that, once Ransome’s needs are taken care of, I sit with my salad and my second coffee of the day and open my laptop to browse apartment listings. Ransome is in a meeting with his dad, and while I know he’ll probably walk out of there with the disposition of a rattlesnake that’s been stepped on, he’s probably going to be tied up there for a bit. And that gives me time to work on my own problems.
First, I look at prices in good areas. It’s not easy finding places far away enough from our dad that they don’t have to deal with him coming around but also close enough to Bella’s school, Gianni’s shop, and Eliza’s salon. Honestly, at this point, anything would be better than where they are.
The other problem is custody. Eliza is almost twenty, and Gianni is almost of age. But Bella is only fifteen. If our dad wanted to fight, he could. I don’t know that he’d win, but it would be a battle. If I had to guess, siblings getting custody of siblings isn’t an easy fight.
For now, I don’t let myself worry about that. I need to focus on one thing at a time, starting with finding them a new place to live. For the first time in my life, money is not the issue. The new salary has hit payroll and to say I’m comfortable moneywise is a massive understatement. It’s almost offensive how good my account looks right now, considering how much my siblings are struggling.
I blink back the tears that threaten to surface. Waterproof mascara or not, I am not going to cry today. Crying will solve nothing and it will also make Ransome suspicious. I don’t want to talk to him about any of it. I probably shared more with him than I should have. Considering the man just barges into the penthouse whenever he wants, does whatever he wants, and then leaves, it’s a little hard to let my guard all the way down.
He has a lot of control over me and my life. He’s also very good at snapping his fingers—or his tongue—and getting his way.
I’m three pages deep on Zillow, making notes and sending texts, when all of a sudden my door opens.
“Come in?—”
The words aren’t even out of my mouth when Ransome barges through, marching straight over to my desk.
I snap my laptop shut when I see his eyes. He’s not happy. In fact, he’s pissed. Whether it’s about the meeting or something else, he’s about to unload it on me.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just?—”
Ransome’s eyes dart down to my phone. I nearly leap onto my desk to grab it with both hands.
“No,” I say. “Please don’t take it. I promise I haven’t been snooping or planning anything or anything else. But I need my phone. I can’t take care of my siblings if I don’t have my phone.”
I am rambling desperately as Ransome leans over, bracing one hand on my desk and taking my phone from my hands with the other.
Normally, I’d fight back. I’d yell at him and throw a fit about what an asshole he is. But right now, I am so upset at the idea of him taking everything away from me, leaving the kids helpless, that my eyes are filling with tears and my lip is trembling.
But Ransome simply takes the phone and gently sets it down on the desk. Then he braces his other hand and leans in even more.
“We are going to dinner tonight with my family,” he says, his voice low. “Wear the longer black dress.”
I nod, not knowing what else to do.
“This is a very, very important dinner, Amara. So I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior in regards to our contract. Can you do that for me?”
My voice comes out in a flustered whisper. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he says as he straightens back up. “Be ready by seven. Ivan will ring the bell when it’s time to go.”
I nod again, and watch Ransome walk out of my office. I still have my phone. He didn’t check my laptop. He didn’t ask what I was doing and he didn’t raise his voice at all.
This man is going to be the end of me.
I am in the middle of applying a second layer of plum-colored lip stain when the doorbell chimes.
Seven on the dot.
