Even though I detested the sound of him speaking, I gave up on the pigeons. They didn’t need an audience. They weren’t out on that ledge to entertain me. Instead, I crossed the room again. Pacing back and forth was all the exercise I could ever look forward to. No matter the location Erik brought me to, I could rely on the ability to pace in the small locked rooms I was stuck in. It was a paltry excuse for how terribly I wanted to roam. To stretch and flee.
I didn’t cross the room for exercise. No. This was to listen and observe. To try to piece together some kind of an expectation of what would come next. If I were to be moved again so soon. If I were to be taken to Yusef for more obedience training. If I were to…
No. Don’t think it, Kali. Don’t.
I swallowed hard, forcing it past the emotions clogging my throat. The idea of finally being married off, of Erik and Yusef coming through on the threat that I’d be sold one day soon, was too much to stomach.
It was inevitable, the transfer of my imprisonment under my brother to the sentence of being married off.
Each morning that came, I prayed it wouldn’t be today. Every night that passed, I fell asleep with the worry that it would come tomorrow.
Pressing my ear to the thin walls to eavesdrop for clues about my future, I tensed up and waited for my brother to speak again.
“That’s not how I see this happening, Marco,” Erik said haughtily. “You think I don’t know what I’ve got here? You think I’m clueless and ignorant, huh?”
Rough chuckles followed before he jeered again, likely speaking on the phone because I would’ve felt the vibrations on the floor if someone else had entered the apartment.
“I may not be some sharp and rising star in the Rivera family, but I am well aware of the asset I have here.”
Asset.
Dread curdled in my stomach that he was talking aboutme.
“And we both know that you’ve been informed about the transaction I am expecting,” Erik added.
Transaction.
Anger burned my blood as he referenced how he planned to get rid of me, all for his own gain. At the cost of my freedom.
“I have spent too long preparing for this day,” he added to the Mafia leader who’d called him. “Too much time and money.”
I gritted my teeth, doing my best to stem the fury that simmered through me.
While I couldn’t argue about how long he’d invested in me, I would never, ever perceive it as a gift.
“Now if you want to renegotiate and reconsider the terms and price you’ve presented so far, then maybe we can still be in business, Marco.”
Silence followed. The slow beat of my heart proved that I still lived, but with each second that ticked by, I felt like I was slowly dying.
It can’t happen.
Not yet.
Please, no.
I never wanted to be sold off, married to some asshole who’d expect me to be a thing, a possession. Gulping hard as my pulse raced, I ignored the rise of anxiety.
I don’t want to be a transaction, given to some man who can breed me.
That was the fate Erik and Yusef had been educating me about for so long. That was the end-goal of what my future would consist of. Kept as an obedient vessel to bear children. Nothing more.
Tears burned behind my lids, but I inhaled deeply, staving them off for now.
Crying wouldn’t change a damn thing. I learned that in the first few months after my parents passed away.
I wasn’t sure what eavesdropping on Erik’s phone call would do either, but I refused to be completely helpless and donothing.
“Yes, yes.” Erik hadn’t hung up yet. “A wedding in March would be ideal, but only with severe renegotiations on your end of the deal.”
