by H. Q. Frost
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This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this book. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form, electronic or printed without permission in writing from the author. Short excerpts for reviews are acceptable.
Cover art by Inked Imprints
Copyright © 2018 H.Q. Frost
A HUGE, HUGE shout out to everyone who enters my worlds with me. THANK YOU!
Special thanks to:
Mellery: You’re the bread to my butter. Or maybe I’m the bread. Anyway, you’re busy af but still make the time to help my cover images and teasers come alive. And you put up with my shit, like when I can’t get over the fact an image looks like it has an std and you fix it with ease. THANK YOU!
Laren: Bee! You always have something to say but still read my books and support how fucked up I take it. THANK YOU!
Brandi Z: You’re amazing and you know it. Your edits are always spot on, even the commas, and sometimes make me giggle. THANK YOU!
RoseAmy: You’re always ready to run edits on whatever I throw your way. THANK YOU!
"Well, I don't know that you need to bring everything you own." My mom's worrying her fingernails practically to the bone. It's the strangest habit, to bite your fingernails. Really gross actually, but anytime her anxiety's high, she's eating those things like decadent candies.
"Why not?" I look at my six suitcases then around the room. I have a lot more to pack.
I just assumed since I was moving, I had to take everything with me. Only made sense, right? But now she's telling me not to bring my possessions. I'm not sure what the hell to do. This whole thing is a cluster of epic proportions. Nerves haven't hit me yet, but I'm not the type to get too nervous about much. I'm kind of excited. It's a little screwed up, but it's still an experience I welcome. I'm moving! How exciting is that! I've lived in the same house since birth. Who cares I'm moving halfway across the world to be married off to a stranger and have like eight kids in two years. I'm down for the challenge.
"I imagine there will be things there for you. That's what I read anyway. He'll provide for you." When she goes in for another bite of her fingers, I finally step in and grab her wrists.
"Mama." I frown, looking at her bloody nails.
It's ultimately my choice to accept the proposal. If I don't agree, it will be passed down to my little sister and she's not interested one bit. I know why and I don't want to put her through that. An eighteen year old lesbian marrying a much older man is a disaster waiting to happen. For both her and him. The man's a Duke with a name to uphold. My feminist sister would surely ruin that for him, and in turn probably get my whole family murdered. I kid. This is the twenty-first century. You can't kill people for ruining a Victorian name anymore. I think.
Regardless, I'm taking on the responsibility. How noble of me, I know. I'm not much older than my sister, but I'm not a lesbian, or a feminist. Ultimately, I'm excited I won't have to work anymore, and I won't be pressured about college. Plus the whole being rich thing is a plus. I like adventure and this will be one.
I've never met the man. I don't know who he is. I was told all about how important he is. I was promised he isn't hideous so I won't be begging to be blindfolded when it comes time to get knocked up. Not that I really care about that. It's not something I'm particularly looking forward to, but I'm not dreading it. I'm a virgin, and honestly, I thought I'd keep my hymen intact for a long time. Not by choice, but being in your own world all the time seems to disinterest boys. There's been opportunities but I've never followed through with them. Plus, my mom keeps me locked down as much as she can. What it comes down to is no one has wooed me enough to get between my legs and I'm certain this guy won't either, but I'll have to let him. That's how that whole baby thing works.
The knock at the front door makes my mom jump and I furrow my brows. She's majorly overreacting and I'm really starting to look forward to getting out of here. If she didn't want to send me away, she probably should have turned down the money. We aren't hurting, but we aren't exactly living comfortably either. I work two jobs, trying to help out. My sister works a part time job and is still in high school. My mom has a job. Maybe two. I honestly don't know what she does all day except call and check up on me. Regardless, if she's that torn up over it, she probably shouldn't have jumped on the opportunity to pimp out one of her daughters.
The circumstances of why we're in this position are a little sketchy. Seems a little barbaric, as my sister insists. Our family way back in the day always married this particular family. Well that stopped when the world started to get a little bit real and then my family line kind of fell off the wagon. Literally, everyone became drunks and lowlifes. We don't have his rich family killing to be with us anymore. Literally killing. So yeah, we went downhill, fast. Needless to say, his family kind of started that same descent within the last decade and someone's aunt or great something or another convinced them it was because tradition had been broken. The Carbons didn't uphold tradition of marrying the Reifs and so it was cursing their family. Yadda, yadda. Something along those lines. And now it's time to bring tradition back of arranged marriages and pregnancies. Yeah, I see the barbaric foresight but I'm not offended. I'm along for the ride and going with the flow.
"Electronically?" I ask a man with twisted teeth. It doesn't make him unattractive; it gives his face personality. Not that he isn't attractive, but that messed up grill seems to make him more desirable, strangely. Makes him unique. Gives him more character.
"Yes, Madam."
"Oh." I balk. "Oh, no." Adamantly shaking my head, I look over at my mom who's fanning her face with a folder he brought. "Don't call me madam. That's kind of weird, isn't it?" I ask him and he looks at me like I'm the weirdo. "Madam? You don't think that's weird? Usually I'm called dude, or bitch—"
My mom gasps. "Magdelena!"
"Mom!" I laugh. "Madam is weird! I'm twenty. It's the twenty-first century. This isn't England circa nineteen-oh-five or something." When I snort, I cover my mouth then look at the guy who finally cracks a smile that shows his teeth. "I like your teeth."
His lips quickly close and my mom covers her face like she's humiliated.
"He's going to ship you back within a week. I know it." She stands and starts to pace.
"Rude," I grumble then turn the laptop toward me. "So I electronically sign my name and it's all legally binding?" This is me signing my life away. Apparently, the old John Hancock's been replaced by DocuSign.
"Yes, dude." He smirks until my mom glares at him.
I already like him. I have no idea who he is, or if I'll ever see him again, but he showed up with paperwork and folders and a laptop for me to sign my life away on. Literally sign it away to Callum Carbon.
"Cool." I start clicking 'Sign' and 'Next' like it's the button to turn up my vibrator.
"Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo. Santificado sea tu nombre. Venga tu reino…" My mom goes on mumbling the Lord's Prayer while I get click happy.
"My real signature looks nothing like this," I mention and glance at twisty teeth. "This makes me look all sophisticated like I might actually be a madam."
"You can be whatever you want on the estate," he assures me with a closed-lipped smile and nod of his head.
"I'll probably stick with dude."
"Dude it is." When I slide the laptop forward, he makes sure I've done everything correctly.
&
nbsp; It wasn't hard, I just had to keep clicking. I mean, I probably should have read that shit, but I figure I have a long trip that I can use the time to catch up on what it all said.
"So? That's it?" I glance around the coffee table that has paperwork spread across it.
"That's it." He slowly closes the laptop and stares at me so I take the time to study his features, then make up his life story in my head.
He's thirty-five. A nice guy that always finishes last. Secretly in love with his twin brother's wife. She pines for him too. Their love story will be the most tragic the country's ever seen…
"Magdelena." My mom nudges me and I quickly snap out of my head while I make this guy a fake life.
"Huh?" I look from her to him, confused because they're both staring at me.
"I asked if you had any questions." He gives me a warm smile. It's no surprise I'm comfortable around him.
"Oh, uh, yeah. Who are you?" I point at him.
"Oh, Magdelena," my mom whispers in embarrassment.
"I mean, I know you told us your name. But, like, are you just the electronic signature guy? Do you have a correlation to Callum Carbon? Or are you paid to travel the world getting electronic signatures for weird shit like this?"
My mom starts with the prayer again and he chuckles. "I work for Mr. Carbon. I'm his assistant."
"Oh, cool. So I'll probably be seeing you again?"
"Yes. Definitely." When he stands, I do the same and push my hand out. With a gentle chuckle, he shakes it.
"Nice to meet you, sire. See what I did there?" I waggle my brows.
"You're a breath of fresh air, dude." He winks and collects his things while my mom prays like I'm the devil incarnate.
"Hey, so when do I leave?" I follow him to the door.
"The thirteenth." He places his hand on my mom's arm and rubs. "Mrs. Reif, I look forward to seeing you in a week."
"Mr. Carbon won't hear about today, right?" my mom blurts and I furrow my brows, shifting my eyes back and forth between her and twisty teeth.
The dude just bought a wife. Yeah he's going to hear about it. I'm gonna show up and raise my feet to the ceilings so he can pump babies into me. He's definitely going to find out what went down today.
"What do you mean?"
"About Magdelena's excitement." My mom takes my hand and I start to laugh, realizing what she means.
She doesn't want twisty teeth to run home and tell Callum Carbon I'm a weirdo of epic proportions. I mean, he probably should. I'm arriving in a week and won't change, so he probably should know what's in store for him.
"Magdelena is lovely." He hits me with another closed-lipped smile then nods at my mom.
"Yeah, Mom. I'm lovely." I throw my arms up and hip bump her before continuing to sway my arms and hips to no music. My mom practically slams the door on twisty teeth and I giggle all the way to the kitchen. "Aren't you happy I'll be out of your hair and you'll be like twenty thousand richer in a few weeks?" I ask her around a mouthful of churro. Sucking my fingertips, I moan as the sugar and cinnamon coats my throat. My mom makes the best churros.
"It's not only twenty thousand dollars, Magdelena."
"Yeah, I know, but don't we have to start small or something? Like you'd only get a portion of the money at first. Then after the wedding you get a little bit more. Then when I get all knocked up you get more. Then after a year or something and he doesn’t divorce me, you get the rest? That's kind of what that dude was saying." I'm positive that was the way he explained it. And honestly, that's all I care about. My mom and sister can start living comfortably.
"Something like that." There she goes again, gnawing on her fingernails.
"You're worried he's going to kick me out, aren't you?" I put my arm over her shoulders and hug her close to my side.
"No, honey," she lies like the sinner she is.
That's absolutely her number one worry. Maybe it's not the money she cares about. She's never really been into material objects and other shit money gets you. But she's one hundred percent worried about humiliation. When she found out the tradition was starting up again, pride does not begin to explain what she felt that her daughter would kick-off a five hundred year old tradition after five decades of it being forgotten. She explains it as a privilege and has been gloating to her friends. I'm pretty sure she left out the whole her being a pimp thing and that we don't know their family. I don't really know what she's telling them but she explains it with tact and makes it sound magical as hell. I don't feel the magic, but I'm hella excited to become some sort of jobless royalty.
"Is it just for the summer?" Harry asks, flicking hair out of my eyes.
We're hip to hip on the church's basement stairs. My blurry vision fades in and out on his face but I'm ready to drunkenly hump him in a downward position on these steps and see if my floating head can defy gravity.
"No. I'm moving for life." I lean just a little closer, waiting for him to kiss me.
Luck would have it that I'd find myself in a position to lose my virginity a day before I'm shipping out to my soon to be husband.
"I'm going to miss you." His forehead pushes against my temple.
I believe him. Everyone's going to miss me, or so they say.
"That's sweet." I raise my hand and cup his ear because I don't know what else to do. I just want him to kiss me.
"Will you visit home?"
That's a question I should have asked twisty teeth, because I don't know. I can't imagine I won't be allowed.
"Yeah." Awkwardly turning my head, I try to get my mouth to his, but his noggin is really using mine for support and I don't want to make him slip.
"Cool." Finally he shifts and pushes his lips to mine.
Not my first kiss. I've actually gone pretty far with the opposite sex. But never all the way. My attention span usually diminishes before I can get there, but not this time. I'm determined to go away with some experience.
"Your mouth is cold," I whisper, turning my head to deepen our kiss.
He's definitely eating something minty enough it could freeze hell. It's almost painful it's so cold, and when he pinches my nipple I gasp in a sharp breath. I think I'm going to have an asthma attack. I don't even have asthma but that mint is killer.
"Mag!" my sister's voice shrieks before she yanks me away from Harry like he's trying to suck the life from me.
That mint really made it feel like it was a possibility. I'm not sure if I'm thankful I didn't die, or disappointed I'm not going to be humping Harry.
"Mag!" Harry cries out for me like I'm his lifelong love being torn from him.
I've known Harry since we were in the tenth grade. We're friends, but that's the first time anything intimate has happened between us.
"Mary," I complain while my sister drags me toward the party.
This is my going away party. There's not supposed to be alcohol, but I rarely party without it, so of course I snuck some in. And I'm drunk.
"You are supposed to be a virgin," she growls at me then stops pulling. Grabbing my shoulders, she shakes me until I'm standing up straight. "God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you made your bed, now you lie in it." A dramatic shudder overtakes her and I messily sign a cross onto her forehead with my thumb until she shoves my hand away. "What are you doing?"
"I thought you were being possessed by demons."
"Mag," she sighs and grabs my face, staring me in the eyes. "You’re a mess. I can't believe you agreed to this."
With a shrug, I back out of her grasp. "What's the big deal? I didn't really have anything better going on in my life. Am I right?"
The sadness on her features makes me look away. It's not a look I like to receive from my younger sister, and she wears that face too often. She's so intense, so serious. Whereas, the expression 'ignorance is bliss' was made for me. Mary's the type to debate any injustice. I don't even realize there are injustices going on in the world. Or, I try to ignore it. Me moving across the universe and marrying this gu
y for money is a hard pill for her to swallow, but she's managed so far. She has a snide comment here and there, but she bites her tongue for the most part.
"You don't have to do this. It's your life. Your body. Your world is a temple, Mag, you don't have to let some pig-fuck graffiti your walls."
"I…" My hand slides through her hair and I lean closer, lowering my voice. "Have no idea what that means." I drape my arms over her shoulders and rest my head, closing my eyes.
I drank too much but doing graffiti on temple walls sounds kind of cool.
"Madam Dude." Twisty teeth nods his head in a bow and I stare.
This is it. I'm leaving the Bronx and moving overseas. I'm off, going to a part of the world where people bow at each other and call each other madam and lordship. Either that, or twisty teeth has really good manners that no one uses anymore.
In a turn that almost makes me fall to my knees, I grab my sister into a hug and we both stumble. "I'll miss you." The decibel of my voice makes her flinch back, but it finally hit. Nerves. I'm nervous and I'm screaming. That's what happens when I'm nervous; I suddenly can't control the tone of my voice.
"You can come home in a couple days when you realize this was a mistake," she says, smoothing her hand down my hair.
Twisty teeth clears his throat and I let Mary go to look at him again.
"Actually, she can't. She signed a legally binding contract that states for the next fourteen months, Ms. Reif belongs to Mr. Carbon." When my eyes go wide, he winces. "I'm sorry. I thought you read the documents, Madam Dude. I read them aloud to you," he points out and he's not lying. I just didn't listen.
"You want a legally binding contract?" Mary growls and raises her fist, stepping forward, ready to knock twisty teeth's unique grill down his throat.
"Whoa there, killer." I grab her, heaving her backward. "Mom." With an awkward smile, I shift Mary into my mom's hold. "When you say belong…" I look at him again. "I'm a slave? Prisoner?"