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And when he makes you come.
Fuck.
“I…” I hesitate, hating the stark difference between the educated asshole next to me, who probably had private tutors, and the minimum knowledge I got from North Shore High. When I showed up.
“This.” I point at a clause. “I th—” I cut myself off from saying “I think.” I need to at least pretend I know what I’m talking about. I read the sentence over and over again, squinting my eyes, tilting my head, trying to make it make sense. “It says you’ll get everything if we divorce or if I die.”
Unlike how long it took me to string my sentence together, he’s quick to reply.
“You have no one else to give it to if you die anyway, and the more I get to play with you, the less likely I am to let you divorce me. So we’re good.”
I do my best to stay focused despite the wave of anxiety rolling through me when he talks about divorce, or lack thereof.
“I have family.” He doesn’t need to know exactly who I mean by family, and I purposely keep my gaze on the document.
But it seems he’s sick of chatting. His hand wraps around my jaw, forcing me to look up at him as his fingers dig into my skin.
“You have nothing to your name.” Couldn’t sound more unimpressed if he tried.
“Exactly.” My eyes narrow. “What I want to understand is why you would want all my shares of nothing.”
“See it as another way to have complete ownership over you.”
“I’m not an object, Nate,” I hiss. “You can’t own me.”
For a second, I see the confusion in his eyes. It seems object versus human is still a concept he’s finding difficult to wrap his head around.
Shrugging, he finally says. “It’s as close as I can get. All of you and everything you have will belong to me.”
I feel like there’s something I’m still missing. There is nothing that belongs to me.
“What if it’s the other way around?” I ask. “If we divorce, or better yet, if you die, what do I get?”
“I don’t know how much clearer I can be, but let me try again. It is very, very unlikely we’ll ever divorce, Kayla. Even after four years, even if you beg me on your knees. The only way it would happen is me getting bored, but again, I don’t see that coming. Seeing you suffer feeds me with new energy every time. So, don’t worry about what you’re signing.”
Jaw tight, I’m forced to take a breath through my nose. “What if you die?”
The answer comes so fast there’s no doubt in it. “If I die, everything goes to my siblings.”
“And I’m free?”
He licks his lips, a smile spreading on his face. “Why? Thinking of trying to kill me again? Yesterday was already a failure, and every day you’re going to grow closer to me. Chances of falling for me are getting higher by the hour. Time is against you when it comes to Stockholm syndrome.”
“I’ll kill you right fucking now.”
I can’t, of course. His grip on my face is so unforgiving I can barely feel my cheeks anymore, and even if I tried to go for the gun in his holster, he’d have it out of my hands in no time. It would be a stupid mistake to forget Nate used to be Bianco’s right-hand man. And he got rid of his boss like it meant nothing to him. He is a Cosa Nostra criminal. He is as ruthless as they come.
Underestimating his power would be deeply detrimental to my survival.
“Still waiting.” His voice startles me, and I realize my eyes must have been darting around, looking for something to put my threat into action.
I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to think clearly. I can’t do that when his ocean eyes dig into mine, daring me to drown in them.
So, instead of thinking of the long run, I think of what I need now.
When I open my eyes again, I soften my stare from the one I’m used to giving, and I ask, “Will you give me a phone if I sign this?”
A slight line appears between his eyebrows, disappearing just as quickly.
