Chapter 27 Marfil #3
“You can’t—”
“A person with a lot of money usually also has a lot of debts. And that can create dangerous enemies,” he continued, smiling as if telling an amusing anecdote over brunch with friends. “It’s like a house of cards: one card falls, it all collapses. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
“I want you to stop hurting me,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I’m sorry. All you had to do was ask.”
I let out the breath I had been holding in, cradling my hand against my body.
“Your life, your father’s life, your adorable little sister’s life, all depend on me now,” he calmly explained.
“I’m lending a hand out of the kindness of my heart.
Your father and mine are old friends—they’ve been doing business together for I don’t even know how many years, and you know the best part?
I’ve only asked for one thing in return,” he went on, turning to me. “You.”
“My father would never…”
“Oh, please! Let’s not talk about the things your father would do, princess. We’d be here for centuries.”
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, my father returned, smiling as if he’d come to close the best deal of his life. “You didn’t need to wait for me to start eating.”
“Dad…” I said in a trembling voice, turning to face him.
The look he gave me made it clear that he knew perfectly well what was going on at our table.
“I suppose Marcus must’ve filled you in on our new business deal.”
“Oh, yes,” Marcus said, cutting into his eggs Benedict and slowly savoring a bite. “Although we still need to tie up certain loose ends; you know how these things go.”
“That’s true, we don’t want to be hasty…”
I felt the room begin to spin.
“Marcus has offered to cover all your expenses here in New York, Marfil,” my father went on. “Things with the family business are complicated right now, which is why we should be thankful to have a lifelong friend willing to offer his help.”
“I don’t want you to pay for anything. I’m perfectly capable of supporting myself.”
Marcus looked to my father without a word.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my father said, chuckling. “Do you know how much a New York apartment costs? How much I spend on your tuition alone?”
My world was crashing down. I was disgusted with myself, with everything I had, with what was happening right under my nose.
“I don’t want any of that, I—”
“Enough, Marfil,” Marcus cut in. “You insult me. I came here to lend a hand to your family, and it seems as if you’d rather throw yourself off the tenth floor of this building than accept it.”
Exactly.
“You don’t have a say in this,” my father interjected. “We only told you so that you’d know how generous the Kozels are being, helping us in these complicated times. Also, let’s not forget that you’re still in serious danger.”
“Then fucking fix it! Don’t drag me down with you.”
“Lower your voice,” my father hissed.
“I can assure you that you’ll be safer than ever,” Marcus chimed in.
I shook my head at Marcus’s words. I needed to get out of there, to wake up from my nightmare, return to reality.
“What the hell do you want from me? Say it plainly one fucking time.”
Marcus leaned over the table and looked into my eyes. “Another chance. For you to forgive me, to start over from scratch.”
“No,” I said, but my voice was trapped in my throat, and it came out as a hoarse whisper.
“Marfil, Marcus has shared with me the feelings he has for you. That’s one of the reasons he wants to help us. He’s just asking that you get to know each other.”
I took a deep breath, understanding that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with either of them. All I could do was try to make sure this nightmare of a brunch was over as quickly as possible.
“Can I think about it?”
My father opened his mouth to answer, but Marcus spoke first. “Of course you can,” he said with a friendly grin that made me want to claw at his face.
“We’ll talk it over. Things will get better, you’ll see.
Your father’s just going through a rough patch.
He’ll get through it.” He continued, this time directing it toward my father, “Don’t worry about a thing, Alejandro. ”
They then changed the subject, talking about the stock market and an upcoming trip to Latin America. At one point, once I’d completely checked out of their conversation, my eyes scanned for Sebastian and found him standing beside the door, looking as tortured as I was.
When they’d finished eating, I finally spoke up after an hour of muteness. “I’m not feeling well. May I go?” I hadn’t taken a single bite of the food in front of me.
My father didn’t give Marcus the chance to respond. “Yes, you can go,” he said, standing up and leaning down to give me a kiss on the cheek.
Marcus also stood and helped me with my coat. I felt dirty as his fingers brushed the bare skin of my neck. I stormed out of the restaurant, passing Sebastian without so much as a glance in his direction.
“Marfil…”
“No,” I said, taking a step back as he tried to touch me. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.”