CHAPTER 6 - ARIANNA
CHAPTER
Arianna
W HY ARE THEY ALL staring at me? My eyes flick between the three men in the room looking at me with suspicion, scorn and disbelief.
My focus draws to Redmond Bateman. Like his office, he’s not what I expected, and I’m unable to stop my eyes from trailing over his dark, tailored suit.
It’s top quality and fits his muscular frame perfectly.
The fine material sits perfectly on his wide shoulders and tapers into his narrow waist. His shirt is pure white, and the starched collar around his thick neck holds a burgundy tie fashioned into a Windsor knot.
Then there’s the cuffs of his shirt just below the jacket sleeves with a hint of gold cufflinks peeping out, which match his tiepin.
I try not to make it obvious I’m peering at what looks like a tattoo peeping out above his collar. I don’t know why I’m looking, let alone wondering what the rest of the design is.
I feel guilty frustration when my line-of-sight tracks to the face possessing angular cheekbones, a straight nose and a strong jaw peppered with dark stubble.
And his hair - the thick, wavy dark mass on his head with unruly waves pulled into a rough ponytail, leaving curls resting just below his collar - isn’t a sharp cut to complement his attire, but more in line with the Hells Angels.
His eyes are blue-gray, fiercely cold and filled with sin. Sin that makes me burn.
This is wrong. This man - these men - are Batemans. They’re not good people. But Red - that’s what the rest of them here call him - has a raging magnetic pull which unwillingly drags me into his orbit.
I look away. He won’t knock me off-kilter. I’ll stand my ground even if it kills me.
And it just might.
Besides, thinking of him as “Red” is too familiar. He’s not familiar, and I don’t want him or any of these people to become so. The Batemans are as far removed from me and mine. They are exactly what everyone said - feral .
Wearing tailored suits and expensive shoes is one thing, but you can see, I can see, they have no class; no breeding.
They’re wild gutter rats who’ve pushed their way into this line of work.
They might have a spangly casino and posh offices acting as a front for their real business, but it’s no secret their organization is new compared to old firms like my father’s.
My Papà has deep-seated roots in this life.
His firm was passed down for generations.
Like all Italian families, his values are old.
Traditions are the way things work, even though these very traditions have caused me endless pain.
The decisions as to my future weren’t vindictive; it’s just the way we work, and I understand that.
The traditions may have destroyed me, but I won’t let antiquated rules destroy my parents or siblings.
And that’s why I’m here. But it’s difficult. Really difficult.
Aware of three pairs of eyes burning into me, I look up, unsure what to do or say. I’ve spoken the truth, so what more do they want? My hands clench into fists. I won’t beg these men to help me.
Will I?
I’ve made a mistake. I thought the Batemans would jump at the chance to rub salt in the wounds of the Bristonis, but I’m wrong.
Maybe they’re just too stupid to grasp the opportunity?
Whatever the reason, I haven’t got time to waste.
I won’t be intimidated, nor will I get sidetracked by how one man in particular affects me.
No one can do anything to me that hasn’t already been done. Short of my life, I’ve got nothing to lose, and that will be over too if I don’t sort this out.
I’ll just think of another way to deal with the problem.
Determined not to break my resolve, I move towards the desk and scoop the meagre contents of my bag back inside, but my lipstick clatters to the floor as my feet leave the ground. I gasp as I’m lifted away from the desk and pressed back against the wall.
“Where do you think you’re going? ”
Red’s fingers sear my skin; the same way they did the first time he grabbed me. And the second. The molten heat coming from him threatens to melt the skin off my bones.
I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to see those cold eyes holding a base ferocity which doesn’t correlate with the swarming feelings in my head. It makes me nervous in ways I can’t explain.
But I have to look at him. He’s in my face; his body crushed against mine.
Every drop of air squeezes from my lungs, but not because there’s no oxygen - it’s because I don’t breathe.
If I breathe, I’ll remember I’m alive, and if I live, I’ll have to touch the stubble on his face to see if it’s as coarse as it looks.
I’ll trace along the strong angular lines of his jaw to see if my finger gets cut and then I’ll. ..
What am I thinking? He’s Redmond Bateman - the evil psycho. Everybody heard about him driving his fiancée to suicide.
Redmond Bateman undoubtedly treated his fiancée the same way Roberto treated me - with contempt and abuse, using his perverse sexual appetite any which way he desired. Mentally and physically torturing the woman, leaving suicide the only option.
Sickness washes over me. If it really was suicide... Perhaps he killed her?
What I did to Roberto was different. This man chose the girl he was to wed.
I inwardly shudder. That photograph in the desk - the stunningly beautiful blonde with the limpet eyes - was her .
Redmond Bateman’s fiancée. How sick can you get, keeping a photograph of the woman you gave no alternative but to end her own life like a trophy?
If the suicide verdict was a smokescreen and he’d murdered her, it was even worse!
My eyes track to where my handbag and my trophy concealed within it sits and I push away the second similarity I have noticed between me and this lowlife.
I am nothing like this creature.
Throwing caution to the wind, I raise my head to look Redmond Bateman square in the eyes.
There’s no point in entertaining this idea, I realize that now.
This man is completely up himself, so I might as well say what I think, for I have little to lose.
“I’m leaving.” My voice holds no trace of nervousness, which surprises me.
“It’s clear you’re not interested in helping me.
You don’t believe what I say and can’t see you’re missing out on a potential advantage. Oh, well... Your loss!”
Red’s cold blue-gray eyes flash with a spark of amusement, and I bristle further. “Exactly what is so funny?”
He leans down, his face nearing mine, his lips mere inches away. He’s not contemplating kissing me, is he? The thought horrifies me. This is Redmond Bateman , so why am I not moving?
“It’s amusing to see that you’re so privileged you believe anything you have to offer is something I or any of us here want!”
His hot breath travels over my skin, leaving tiny goosebumps. With the scent of cigarettes and whiskey, combined with a hint of his musky aftershave, I should be appalled at the enforced closeness this creature uses to intimidate me. But I’m not, his raw maleness is intoxicating.
And this bothers me more than dying.
But wait a minute. His words... Is he... is he insinuating I’d offer myself in exchange for his help?
My cheeks flush with what I put down to anger, nothing else. Certainly nothing else. The thought is abhorrent. “How dare you! You think I’d prostitute myself to anyone, let alone you ?” I move to push past, but he tightens his grip on my shoulders.
“Listen, you spoiled little bitch.” The amusement disappears from his eyes, replaced with cold, burning hatred.
“Take it whichever way you wish, but I’m not in the market for games.
I’m not on the market for anything , so whatever your plan is, take it with you and fuck off back to your husband and daddy. ”
At this, the concept of everything I promised myself leaves the building. Yet another person dismissing everything I think, do or say, no matter how much it took me to come here.
Summoning up force I didn’t realize I had, I push against his hard chest with all my might. “You arrogant bastard!” My shove doesn’t shift him, but it’s enough to dislodge his grip. “You think you know it all, but you don’t have a clue!”
Now I’m glad I stopped to take a memento. Not for myself. I want nothing of Roberto’s and want what I took even less, but I was right to suspect I’d need to prove my words are true.
“I killed my husband from necessity rather than leaving him with no justification in remaining part of this world. Unlike you...” I say, hearing an audible intake of breath from one of the brothers behind me.
Red lurches towards me, his eyes bright with rage. He’s planning to corner me, and any control not to damage me is gone. He’s wearing the same raw fury I witnessed when he caught me with the photograph, but I can’t stop now. I’ll not be trampled over any longer. I’ve been a doormat for too long.
Tipping my handbag upside down, my purse and keys fall out to join my lipstick on the floor once again. It’s not like I need those keys anymore, and my purse is all but empty because Roberto didn’t let me have more than a few pounds to my name.
I have nothing. Except this . And I don’t want it in my possession a moment longer. My hand moves to the back pocket of my handbag. “You want more? You want something else? Fine! I’ll give you that!”
“Get the fucking silly bitch out of here before Red kills her!”
My head jolts up as one brother speaks, the other restraining Red. Shit , he really is mad at me. I must act fast. My fingers fumble in my bag, and the contents tumble to the floor just as Red breaks free.
Everything grinds to a halt. All eyes, apart from mine, are on what thunks to the floor and rolls out of its tissue wrapping. I don’t look. I don’t need to. I know exactly what it is.
“Fuck!” someone growls.
With a questioning look, Red’s eyes move from Roberto’s cock in all of its splendor on the floor of his office, to me.
“Now do you believe me?” I slightly enjoy the shock on their faces. “Yes, I cut my husband’s cock off. He deserved it, and...” I add, nudging it with my foot so that it rolls to display the other side, “...there’s the proof.”
Everyone knew about Roberto’s specially commissioned Prince Albert ring. He screwed enough women through our marriage to ensure the whole of London knew of his pierced cock!
I watch these three brute men rendered speechless. It only lasts a few seconds, but to achieve that, I’m happy.
“Fuck’s sake,” Red mutters. “Looks like she’s telling the truth.”
“Whatever she’s doing, she’s a fucking psycho,” one brother gasps. “She’s got to go.”
“Please!” I squeak, hating my confidence for deserting me. “You have to help. I...” My stomach lurches as the two brothers approach. It’s no good. It’s over. I can’t get these lunatics on side, and I have no bargaining chips left to trade.
“No!” Red steps forward, one jerk of his head stopping his brothers in their tracks. “We’ll keep her. For now, at least.”
“You’ve got to be joking!” A brother moves towards me once more and I back away.
“I rarely joke,” Red snarls, then turns to me. “I’m not sure what you’ve done or why, but you’ll stay here until I decide what to do with you.”
“Decide?” I yell. “What does that mean? Are you helping me or not?”
“Red, I don’t want her staying here, I...”
Raising his hand for silence, Red turns back to me, his eyes cold. “In answer to your question, I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but you’ll find out soon enough.” He jerks his head in his brother’s direction again. “Put her in a room and lock her in.”
I blink. “What? You can’t lock me...”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. And you will obey me,” Red snarls. “And Liam? Get rid of this fucking cock from my office.”