Chapter 16 #2
He didn’t need to leave a note saying it’s from him.
Clearly, the Irish Demon decided to play around with his husbandly duties today.
I’d be annoyed that he’s acting so casual with this, like it’s almost meaningless for him to be so kind and sweet, but frankly, I’m too relieved to be bothered.
I don’t have to make the call this way, I don’t have to worry about my grandparents being mad about the room bill, and there’s so many goodies here that I’m going to really enjoy.
I don’t realize how hungry I am until I start eating. I practically inhale the deliciousness, and once I finish, I text my mother. Screw it. She’s going to be upset that I didn’t just call her, but I don’t care anymore.
Hey Mom. Something happened that you should know about.
I’m dreading her reaction. My fingers tighten on the phone as I see the icon light up that tells me she’s read the text, and then those three dots that indicate she’s typing.
What happened, Amy? You’re worrying me with a text like that.
My fingers tremble slightly as I type out my answer.
My grandparents arranged a marriage for me. I don’t have much of a choice. He’s another member of their…business.
Thirty seconds later, she’s calling me. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the shrieking. “Hi, Mom.”
“What do you mean they arranged a marriage for you?!” Her voice is shrill in my ear.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “It’s exactly what it sounds like.
Dad has gambling debt. This guy is…he’s threatening them, Mom.
He’s threatening all of us, leveraging the debt against us.
If he marries me, he gets access to this dock that Grandpa Astero has access to.
But the dock owner only wants to work with our family.
So…he wants access, via marriage. To me. ”
There’s silence on the other side of the line for a moment. “Oh, god, Amy…that’s…my god. What are we going to do? We could…I mean, the police…”
“Do you really think that’s wise?” I chew on the inside of my cheek.
She scoffs. “What’s the alternative? You actually go through with marrying him?”
I run a hand through my hair, feeling my chest tighten. “Well, yeah. He seems…nice enough, I guess. I don’t think he intends to hurt me. I just don’t know what else to do.”
“Amy, men like this are master manipulators. He’s probably acting exactly how he knows you want him to, to lower your guard so you trust him enough for him to take advantage of you. He’ll be cruel and break you when you’re vulnerable. That’s how this kind of game is played.”
I let out a slow breath. I know she’s probably right, it makes sense logically.
But part of me is still hesitant to believe it.
I don’t know why. Usually, I can tell when something is off with someone.
But I can’t help myself from second-guessing myself, too.
My mom is more familiar with this world, she’s more experienced with people in general, and she doesn’t have any misunderstandings about social situations.
So, maybe she does know better. “Okay. I hear you. But that still doesn’t really give me any solutions. ”
She huffs. “Well, I don’t know, Amy! But you can’t be so naive to go through with it! You need to stop it!”
“But how? I can’t think of any way out of it that doesn’t result in Dad in prison in the best case scenario!"
“Don’t you raise your voice at me, young lady. I told you, I don’t know. But you’re a smart and strong girl, Amy, you always have been. I know you’ll figure it out. I…I think I need to sit down and rest. Call your father. Let him give you ideas. Love you, honey. Mwah.”
I stare at my phone for a while, shocked that she hung up on me. How did she simultaneously make it feel like it’s a disaster while treating it like it’s no big deal? Like I’m supposed to freak out about it, but not her? I don’t understand what she expects from me.
I put down my phone and look at the ceiling. I know better than to expect any help from my father. But still, if I don’t reach out to him, it’ll seem like I didn’t even try to get help or escape this. But do I really care what it looks like?
I have this one, nice, relaxing day. One day to recover from the horrors of yesterday and prepare for whatever comes next tomorrow. Do I really want to waste my time calling my dad?
I have to try. Even if I know it’s probably of no use, I can’t leave any stone unturned.
I pull up his contact and call him. It rings.
And rings. And rings. When it goes to voicemail, I hang up and try again, but get the same result.
I leave a quick message asking him to call me, that it’s dire and I need his help.
But I can’t sit around and wait for him to save me. I need to make the most of my time, relax, think things through, and see if I can come up with any other solutions to get me far away from my grandparents, the Irish Demon, and the dark underbelly of society.
Other than that stressful call, the rest of my day is honestly relaxing and calming, which is just what I needed after the hell I endured with my grandfather.
I have plenty of drinks and food, I watch some movies, read some books, take a nap, and just generally chill.
It’s pretty magical. If I ever have money, I’ll have to keep in mind how incredible just relaxing at a hotel can be.
I can’t eat most of the breakfast food that was delivered, so I put the rest of it in the fridge.
But around lunch, another tray of food is delivered.
A shrimp alfredo with bread, salad, soup, and a nice crème br?lée.
Even though I’m still pretty full from breakfast, I enjoy it all anyway.
And then dinner is delivered hours later, it’s incredible sushi, miso soup, and a salad with a ginger dressing, with green tea ice cream for dessert.
Is this man trying to fatten me up more or what?
Maybe that’s a stupid question since I’ve never been petite. Still, he’s clearly trying to do something. And whatever it is, I hate to admit it, but it’s working.
Right as I finish up dinner, there’s another knock on the door. I sigh, kind of wishing I could be left alone at this point. It’s another bouquet of flowers, this time of pristine white roses. It comes with a note,
Please meet me down in the lobby at 9 a.m. Feel free to dress comfortably in your Walmart wares. - K.A.
I hate how much his words make me smile. The little remark about my Walmart clothes isn’t lost on me. I’m pretty sure his intention is to make me feel comfortable just being myself. I can admit, he’s fucking hot. Outside of the whole mafia boss thing.
I arrange the flowers on the dresser. I wince as I look at the other bouquet that’s in the trash. Okay. Maybe that was a bit dramatic of me. But what happens in a breakdown stays in a breakdown, no matter how pretty the flowers are.
These flowers look expensive. But I guess, to a man that’s super rich, their price means very little. It probably means nothing to him to send them.
But the note, with its reference to our last conversation and the full acceptance of me he’s expressing…it means more than the flowers. A warmth spreads across my chest and through my whole body.
I feel equal parts nervous and excited about tomorrow, so I go over to my suitcase and pick out my outfit for the next day. I have no idea what we’re going to be doing, so I have to be practical.
As the day comes to a close, I’m relieved my grandparents didn’t contact me today.
I kind of wonder if Alasdair had something to do with that.
It could just be that they didn’t need me today in their little organized crime games, so they left me alone.
Like a doll that gets dropped when they aren’t playing with it.
Sleep is more restless tonight. When I turn off the light and close my eyes, all I can see is the men in that meat freezer, my grandfather screaming in their faces as he tortures them…and that’s before I’m even asleep.
I turn over, trying to get rid of the image in my mind.
But it doesn’t work. Eventually, I drift off, but my sleep is fraught with nightmares.
I dream of faceless men I’m trying to save, only to get caught on a hook myself.
My grandfather doesn’t even bother to look at me, like I mean nothing to him.
Eventually, I wake up exhausted, feeling more tired than when I went to bed. There’s nothing to do about it but get up, shower, and get ready for my day with the Irish Demon, whatever may come.
I wipe off the steamy mirror, peering into it once I get out of the shower. My brown eyes carry dark circles underneath them, and I look paler than usual. I work on drying off my brown hair with a sigh.
Part of me wants to be hopeful about today, but I keep my expectations low. As long as it’s a better day than my time out with my grandfather, then I’ll be happier. But a big part of me just wants to have another day to hide inside my hotel room again.
Alasdair promised that we wouldn’t be doing anything related to his business, so I’m trusting him on that. I think today will be a big indicator on how the rest of our relationship will go.
I can only hope that my trust is deserved.