Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Chloe
“You landed on Boardwalk. I own it already.” I point to the property card with its little plastic hotel sitting proudly on top. “You owe me… a lot of money.”
Emmanuel studies the board with serious concentration, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He’s been quieter than usual today. Not in the way he was when I first found him, just thoughtful. Like he’s working through something in his head.
We’re sprawling on the floor of the TV room, the Monopoly board spread between us on the plush carpet. It’s been two hours, and somehow, Emmanuel is absolutely destroying me at this game. The kid is a ruthless real estate mogul.
He counts out the fake money carefully, signing, “Maybe you can catch up now.”
I gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me? You’re suspiciously good at this game. Have you been secretly studying monopoly strategies?”
He only grins in answer, handing over the money before rolling the dice for his turn. I add it to my pathetically small pile on my side of the board. At this rate, I’ll be bankrupt in the next three turns.
Emmanuel passes go and collects his two hundred dollars, then hands me the dice to roll. I roll them. Snake eyes. Of course. I move my little metal dog two spaces and land on one of Emmanuel’s properties. “Mediterranean Avenue. How much?”
He holds up his fingers. Four hundred dollars.
“Highway robbery,” I joke, smiling as I count out the paper bills. “When this is over, you’re going to have to teach me your secrets. How does one get this good at Monopoly anyway?”
He shrugs and signs, “Papa taught me. He says business is about knowing when to invest and when to hold onto your assets.”
Of course, Basili would teach his son business strategy through board games. It makes sense, honestly. I don’t know why that would surprise me.
“He’s a smart man, your papa.”
Emmanuel nods his agreement enthusiastically, then reaches for the dice. He rolls a seven, counts out the spaces, and —
“Yes!”
The word bursts out of him, clear and triumphant, as he pumps his fist in the air. His game piece lands on Free Parking, where all the pooled money is won.
I freeze. He freezes.
We stare at each other across the board, his eyes wide with shock, his hand still hovering over the pile of money in the center of the board.
He spoke. He actually spoke. Not a whisper or a mumble but an actual word, loud and clear. Completely spontaneous.
He averts his eyes, bashful, realizing the same thing I have. His eyes are filled with moisture, and I can’t tell if they’re happy or scared.
I crawl around the board and wrap him in a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
He hugs me back, his small arms wrapping around my waist, his face buried in my shoulder. I feel him sniffling quietly, and I just hold him, rocking gently.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “You’re okay. There’s no pressure to keep talking if you’re not ready to, but I’m still proud of you.”
After a long moment, he pulls back and looks at me. His hands moved slowly in sign. “It just… slipped out.”
“That’s ok. That’s how it happens sometimes. Your brain was ready, even if you didn’t know it yet.”
I brush hair back from his forehead. “I know that was a lot for you; do you want to take a break? I think I’m ready to admit defeat.”
I can’t wait to tell Basili!
Emmanuel smiles and nods, moving out of my embrace to start picking up the game pieces. I help him get it all together and back in the box, though, he insists on organizing all the money and property cards himself.
I sit back on my heels, my heart still fluttering with excitement. He spoke. Because he was happy, and it came out naturally. This is huge. It’s everything. Basili needs to know.
“I’m going to go see if Maria made any cookies. Want to come?” He signs to me after I put the board back in the curio against the wall.
“You go ahead; I have some things to take care of.”
I practically run through the house, checking for Basili in his office first. It’s empty. I try the library next, then the main sitting room, I even peek into the formal dining room we never use. But he’s not there either.
Voices drift from down the hallway — male voices, speaking in low tones. I follow the sound to a side room I’ve never been in before. The door is slightly ajar, and I’m about to knock when I catch a snippet of their conversation.
“The Triad is insistent.” That’s Omero’s voice. “They want the alliance, and they’re willing to offer significant territory concessions to make it happen.”
I freeze.
“I don’t trust Delan Tao as far as I can throw him,” Basili answers, cold and business-like. “The man is a snake.”
My blood runs cold. They are talking about my father.
“Agreed. But the offer is… substantial. This marriage would seal a level of peace we haven’t seen in decades.
” Omero’s voice has taken on a teasing tone, light and measured still.
“And his daughters are bound to be pretty enough. I mean, you obviously like the oriental look — look at Chloe. There are worse fates, Basili.”
Shufen. They have to be talking about my older sister. Father is trying to marry her off to Basili?
My mind starts racing. I should knock, tell them I’m Delan’s other daughter, the one who ran away. Or maybe I should leave. Do anything other than listen through the doorjamb. But I can’t force my feet to move. I can’t breathe.
“I’d like to suggest an alternative. How do you feel about marriage, Omero?”
“Me?” Omero sounds amused by the idea, but all I can hear is the roaring in my ears.
A marriage alliance. Basili is being offered a bride on a silver platter. My brain can’t quite catch up to my thoughts, absorbing each thought seconds after it occurs. An arranged marriage to my sister…
And last night, he’d had me at his mercy, his hands all over my body. His mouth on mine, his fingers… Damn him. Was I just… entertainment? A distraction?
“The wedding would need to happen within the next two months,” Omero continues. “Tao wants this solidified before —”
I can’t hear the rest of what he says. I knock sharply on the door, pushing it open before either of them can respond.
Both of them look up. Basili sits on a couch across the room, Omero opposite him in an armchair, papers strewn across the coffee table between them.
I know what they were without looking at them — contracts, terms, and conditions for selling someone into marriage like chattel.
“Chloe,” Basili says my name with a hint of surprise. “This isn’t a good time. We’re in the middle of —”
“Emmanuel spoke.” It comes out flat, emotionless. The joy I’d felt minutes before is drowned out by everything I’d just heard. “During our game of Monopoly. Thought you’d like to know.”
His eyes widen, genuine happiness flashing across his face. “He spoke? Really?”
“Really, yes. He went back to signing after, but it’s progress.” I’m already backing toward the door. “I’ll let you get back to your meeting. Seems important.”
“Chloe, wait —”
“Congratulations, by the way.” I gesture vaguely at the papers on the table. “On your engagement. Or Omero’s engagement. Whichever it is.”
Basili stands abruptly. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand far more than you think, Basili.” I force a smile that feels like glass cutting my face. “Arranged marriages, alliances, pretty straightforward stuff to me.”
“It’s business, Chloe. Nothing more.”
“Right. Business.” The word tastes bitter. “Tell me, did you ask your new bride how she feels being sold off to you like a prize cow?”
“I’ve never —”
I don’t let him finish, anger flaring. “And what was last night between us in the kitchen? Is this some sort of game to you? Or was that just business too?”
Omero is suddenly fascinated by his hands as he wrings them together in his lap. Purposefully staying out of the line of fire that’s quickly forming between Basili and me.
Basili’s jaw tightens as he takes a step around the table toward me. “That was different.”
“How? How is it different?” My voice is rising, and I can’t stop it. The hurt and betrayal I feel in my chest become unbearable. “You did all that. All while you’re busy negotiating a marriage to someone else?”
To my sister! The words almost slip out, but I catch them just in time.
“You’re overreacting. This arrangement has nothing to do with —”
“With what? With us?” I laugh bitterly, and it sounds wrong even to my ears. “Oh, wait, that’s right, there is no us. Because you’re just using me as a distraction while you plan your future with someone you’ve never even met. Someone who may not even want you in the first place.”
“That’s not —” He stops, his expression turning stone cold. “You know what? You’re right. This doesn’t concern you. Because there is no us. What I do and don’t do regarding business and alliances is none of your business whatsoever.”
His words sting even more than every emotion I’m already running through.
“You’re absolutely right,” I say quietly. “It’s none of my business. Just like I’m none of yours. I’m just the help, just here to help Emmanuel for the rest of the month and then disappear from your lives. I’m nobody.”
“Chloe, that’s not what I meant.”
“Forget it.” I turn to the door and move, as fast as my legs will take me, throwing the last of my venom over my shoulder as I make my escape. “Congratulations again. I’ll be out of here in no time, and you can go back to your perfect life.”
“Don’t you walk away from me!” His voice is sharp, commanding. The Don, not the man who touched me last night. My spine snaps straight, and I stop, but I don’t turn to face him, because something in his tone reminds me of Delan.
“I don’t believe there’s anything left to be said, Mr. Cierro.”
The way I address him so formally cuts through the air like a knife.
“What you just heard, you are to forget. You are not to breathe a word of this to anyone outside of this room. It’s not important, and it’s certainly not something you should concern yourself with. You understand?”