"What exactly are we going to talk about?" she narrows her eyes at me as she shoves the tray off her as if it can be used against her as a prison cell. And it’s that mentality I want to get the bottom of. I want her to be open with me. I want to know her dark secrets, because the things I would think would be that way are out in the open for me to see. So, what else does she have to hide?
"Look, I did something crazy for you last night. Well, crazy for me, and I thought maybe you could do something for me today and have one normal day where we get to know each other. We spend the day with each other and ask questions. The other always has to answer," I propose in a light tone. I hope I don’t scare her off with this.
"I don’t like this," she says but then continues, "but I guess it’s fair.”
We start slow with favorite colors, preferences for movies and television shows, dream dates, vacation spots, things like that. Then, we talk about business, and I love how she comes to life when she speaks about the restaurant, how it is the one thing she has that is hers and hers alone. Without even asking her, she tells me more about her grandmother who gave her the inspiration for the place. The woman sounds like a spitfire kind of like Carla herself.
"Romanian women usually do not have so much freedom," I tell her. "You are very lucky in this if nothing else. I think you have done a good job with it, though I would love to help you improve it even more if you would like to talk about that someday."
"As long as the tips are business based and not recipes. These are passed down for generations," she warns me.
I chuckle at her harsh tone, "Of course not." I reach out and push a strand of dark hair behind her ear, and she freezes for a moment. Soon, we will have to get into more serious talk if I am going to start breaking down those walls.
So, I tell her about my family and especially about my mother so she understands where I am coming from with the concerns about alcohol and partying. And then maybe, she will feel okay opening up to me.
She tells me a little of how she grew up and something I did not know - that Enzo is only her half-brother. I know a bit about The Arcane and her family because of their dealings with the Clans, but personal details are often left out. They are much more secretive than we are because their line of work is even more sensitive.
I place my hand on her leg soothingly, or what I hope to be. "I did not know that about Enzo. But what about your father? You have not mentioned him yet," I say softly.
She avoids eye contact, looking anywhere but at me as she slumps her shoulders. "He is everything you think an Italian businessman would be, especially one that specializes in assassinations." She is so quiet, I almost don’t catch her words. "Strong, dominant, ruthless..." she trails off, and I wonder if this is where I lose her for the day. This is the hard part for her, I can tell. "His rules for me were much different than for my brothers. They still are. If he knew the real me, he would not just disown me, he would cut it from my flesh. If he makes a threat against me, he means it. And I was born to be a pawn for my parents to use to gain more power. I am sure many of the Romanian women feel the same, but it seems not all your men have the kind of temper he does."
I reach in my pocket, having nothing else to do as I tap on her shoulder. "What I did yesterday...I would never have done that for anyone. I have never been in love, so it is hard for me to tell, but I think that is what this is, that I am in love with you. It has to mean something that I did that for you and only you," I tell her as she looks at me. She lets me slip the ring onto her hand, and I kiss it for good measure. "How does it feel?"
She pretends for a moment like the ring is so heavy, and we laugh, and then she shrugs. I see something in her eyes, though, so I lean in for a lingering kiss on her soft lips. "I promise that with me you will be as free as possible."
That’s when I get her attention, and she looks at me like I have hung the moon. "If you give me that, then maybe I could be in love with you and stay forever."
Chapter 22
Carla
"Can we get that spaghetti and meatball out, por favore," I call out to the kitchen staff, deep in my role as restaurant owner, though I often love being the chef as well when I get the chance. Stress is high today because for a few days I have been trying to get everything in order for someone to run the place most of the time who isn’t me. I am going to come back once in a while to check on things, of course, but my home is going to be in Munich with Philippe now. I have to have those I trust making sure my restaurant doesn't go down in flames without me here. But my stress is making me hard on those around me, and I think I need a break. I am usually good with being a bitch, but my employees are actually great at what they do and deserve the space to do what they need to.
I take off my apron and leave the kitchen, pulling out my phone as I hit the back exit to get some fresh air. I smile down at the messages I still have open from the night before. Even though Philippe and I are in two different countries, we are finding ways to make things interesting even from afar. It’s one of the few reasons why I feel like I am back in the swing of things and able to look forward to our wedding which is just around the corner now. Maybe I am not excited about being tied down in a way, but I am happy about the idea of freedom from my father and mother and their rules for me. I am happy about the fact that there will be a whole 24 hours where it is all about me, because, what bitch doesn’t like the spotlight to shine on her every once in a damn while?
Philippe has been great at compromising now, and I think I owe him a lot for that even though I don’t think I will ever feel comfortable saying such a thing out loud. We have been sexting back and forth ever since I came back to the states to deal with saying my goodbyes to my friends and family and getting the restaurant ready, but we’ve added in a fun little twist now. Sometimes, I grab a chick from a chat room, just someone random, and pull her into the conversation.
I know that while our threesome was so fuckin’ hot that Philippe still feels a little uncomfortable with those things, but virtually, you can often let loose without any fear because it's not real. You can try things and see how you feel about them. That’s what we were doing last night, and fuck I am still so hot from it. I am going to have to take care of myself tonight, maybe on the phone with him, just to make it through, especially with all the added stress of the wedding. I’ve been having to pick out my dress and have it shipped out and everything. I can’t imagine what it’s like for Philippe, trying to deal with the rest of the plans without me.
He’s doing it without the help of Luna for the most part as well. She has run a few errands, but he has mostly communicated with her via text or through someone else on his staff. He even rented her a nice place outside the city where she can have the baby and plenty of room, but it’s about more than that. We both needed her as far away from us as was reasonable. There was no way in hell we could grow and bond with her right there in our faces with that damn baby bump.
The bigger it gets, the more real it is to me that he is having a child with someone else, and it pisses me the fuck off. Not that I am ready yet to do the whole mommy thing, but if I am going to have a man, I am going to be possessive. That’s just me, and I want to be the first one to give him that child. The only one. And now here some low-grade secretary has swooped in and fucked it all up.
Feeling frustrated from letting Luna get in my head yet again, I pull the chat back up and begin typing, ready to start where we left off. I need a distraction here and pronto.
I send my message and hope that one of them is around to answer, and sure enough, the woman who goes by Elaine, though I have no idea if that is her real name, answers immediately.
I sigh to myself, my center getting wet at the thought of being touched, but then my phone rings.
It’s Philippe of all people. But I know better than to not answer.
“Funny hearing from you right now,” I say as I lean on the side of the building, trying to calm my body down from its short-lived arousal.
> “It’s not a coincidence,” he says, and I can’t tell if what is in his voice is anger or just his seriousness to let me know we are not joking right now. “I wanted to talk about the messages between you and Elaine.”
I roll my eyes, knowing that it is not even a reasonable time of day for him, so for him to be watching the chat and worrying forces us to suddenly take five steps back all over again. Is he really going to come back at me with more accusations of being a slut or a lesbian?
“Are we really going to go through this again?” I ask, a little too harshly, but he needs to get over it. I thought we had moved past all that.
“I have been trying to be understanding, and part of me gets why you like it, but there is something bothering me, my flori sălbatice,” he says, the new nickname rolling off his tongue. It means wildflower. I have been learning Romanian ever since I was told I would be marrying a Romanian man. “I gave you that ring and do the things I do for a reason. I don’t know how you feel about me yet, but I know how I feel about you. I worry that our marriage will be a sham still. That you will not stay faithful to me. I am okay with sometimes spicing things up, but I need some stability.”
My face is turning red as the anger bubbles up. I feel there are more rules coming down on me I didn’t expect. The whole point of this marriage is for my damn freedom.
But then something strange happens – I stop myself before I say anything damning. What makes me do it is his tone of voice. There is nothing angry or accusing. He sounds worried and insecure. He really isn’t kidding about giving a damn, is he?
I let out a few breaths to calm myself before I give him an answer. I don’t want to say anything I regret.
“Look, I am not used to anyone caring about me this way. When I was told I was getting an arranged marriage, I did not expect it to be more than a contract. I hoped we could be allies, but I saw myself hating you and bucking against you until I got my way. We would both probably have affairs on the side. It is hard for me to see things your way. But for the sake of making this work, I can agree to be faithful to you. Anything else I do will be with your permission and with you in the room if it pleases you to be. But I want your respect for my likes and sexuality in return.”
“Of course, flori sălbatice. I would not dream of disrespecting you. You might just be the death of me if I did.”
Chapter 23
Carla
Nicola's hands are over my eyes as Phoebe has my hand, leading me to the private room inside the hotel where we will be having my bachelorette party tonight. It’s crazy to think that I am going to be a bride tomorrow and a German citizen at that. Growing up, I never saw myself as the marrying type. I have always been too aggressive and too free with my body, but now that Philippe and I have connected in a new way and he understands me, it makes sense for us to ally with each other in matrimony.
And maybe that’s what makes this a little less scary than before as well, that it feels like allies are coming together for a common cause. Does that mean I don’t care for him as more than that? No, but marriage and love don’t always equate with each other, especially in my world, even if Philippe was determined to make it happen. I say he got lucky we worked out the way that we did because 99 out of 100 times forcing love from an arranged marriage isn’t going to happen. The only reason my brother and his wife work is because Sal had goo goo eyes for Aria for years before he finally got her father to agree to sign the papers for her to marry him. So, there was nothing to force. He was kind to her, and she fell for it instantly.
"And here we are," Nicola says, uncovering my eyes so I can see there are two more women waiting for me in a room decorated in such a cliché way I have to laugh. All the streamers and confetti and other things are purple instead of pink, to represent my power color, but the room is filled with dicks in all shapes and sizes as well as two life-size cut-outs; one of a man and one of a woman, missing important parts.
"Really, is that for pin the wang on the asshole? I ask, but it is funny. And I do appreciate them doing this for me. It's only the five of us; myself, Phoebe, Nicola, Aria, and Isabella, but I am grateful to get this at all. I am kind of a bitch and have very few girlfriends to count on, and even if this marriage is arranged I would like to experience those things I will likely only get to do once in my life like this party.
I get a hug from each woman, but Isabella opts for a kiss on each cheek instead. She is the youngest of us and is also kind of an outsider with the Clans like me. Her father is an accountant for one of the Clans...Aria's to be specific, and so she has grown up around it all without being a direct part of it. Though, I suspect her father is still going to be finding her a Romanian man to marry soon. This could easily be her bachelorette party we're having next.
Though, I have heard more than one rumor about her that could make things quite interesting in the near future. Especially the one where she is in love with Aria’s brother.
I smile at the thought and then sit down with the rest of them, a drink instantly served to me complete with a penis straw. "You know this is ridiculous?" I ask them, trying to keep a straight face as Phoebe grabs one herself and sucks it down with a devious grin even though she hates dick.
"But you love it," Nicola chides, and she's right. This is great. Especially knowing that Philippe is not too far away and that we are an hour away from Luna right now.
I insisted on it. Maybe that makes me selfish or a jealous bitch, and that’s okay with me. I wanted us to be in the same hotel, and I wanted it to be far enough away from Luna that I could focus on what tonight is about instead of worrying once again she will make some crazy move for my man.
I almost choke on my drink because of my thought on that. I didn’t think I would become that possessive woman, especially considering my like for threesomes, but I just can’t see sharing him for real. The occasional third to spice things up like we agreed is totally okay, but I don’t think either of us will be okay with the other playing solo with another person again, no matter how either of us lived before we were together. I can only see myself with him.
I don’t know if that qualifies as being in love yet. I have yet to say those exact words to him, but I guess for me, they just might.
I notice the set up for karaoke, and after a little liquid courage, I know that it’s on, “So, who’s going to be my G-Easy?” I ask, and I am sure that narrows it down to a handful of songs to them. As I suspected, Phoebe comes up, promoted by Nicola, the only one of us who could even remotely rap.
The sultry song starts, and I snap my fingers as I croon, “You don’t own me, you don’t own me…”
Phoebe comes in strong, and the girls go wild for her. “But I’m Gerald and I can always have just what I want. She’s the baddest I would love to flaunt.” We get into it, grinding on each other and gyrating our hips, and Phoebe is really into the beat and the bad boy mentality. It is so much damn fun.
The evening consists of a lot of laughs, a lot of joke gifts, and even some pole dancing courteous of one of those gifts that we were able to put up in the room and take back down with ease.
Now, Nicola has had a bit much to drink and is really going for it. She paid her way through college by becoming a stripper, and she is hot as hell doing it too. Aria has already left since she has a little girl to tend to, and Isabella is practically passed out. I know that if I am going to do what I have been thinking about most of the night, now is the time.
I pretend to have to pee, but once I am out of the room, I turn the other way and make a run for the elevator.
Once inside and alone, I give the camera a flash of my thong as I hike up my skirt and pull out the key card to Philippe's hotel room, something I took from him without his knowledge when we arrived. I had it tucked into the band of my thong this whole time in case I got a chance to sneak away. I know I won’t be seeing him tomorrow, and I also know there is no need to worry about this waiting til our wedding night bullshit.
Hoping to find him alone in h
is room and having turned in earlier than these ladies, I slide the card in without knocking and find the light on.
There are only two men in the room; Philippe and my brother, Sal. I roll my eyes when I see him, placing my back against the wall. This is a little awkward even for me, but it’s not like Sal is dumb enough to think I am a virgin. He knows me better than the rest of my family.
"Shouldn’t you be back with your kid and wife?" I ask him, though I am smiling, teasing him. "Aria left a while ago."
"Shouldn’t you be getting your rest for tomorrow, sister?" he asks me. "I thought there was some rule about seeing each other before the wedding like this."
"It’s not the wedding day yet, and I am not in my dress. Besides, there is nothing normal about this anyway," I scoff.
He nods his head in understanding and sighs. "Good luck tomorrow," he tells Philippe before passing close by me on the way out. "Do you still want to go through with this?" he asks, and I feel a pang of guilt for not giving my brother more credit here. He is giving me an out even now.
"Yes," I whisper, and he leaves without another word, leaving me to lock and bolt the door behind him before turning a mischievous grin to my fiancé.
"I should have realized when my spare key card went missing it was because of you," Philippe comments as I slink over to him, my dress already coming off in a heap at my feet. I stand there with nothing but a thong and a pair of heels on in front of him as he sits on the bed, admiring me. He looks as if he is trying to pretend he is not affected, but I know better by now. He loves my body, and it gives me the confidence boost I have needed after the whole debacle with Luna who will hopefully be nothing but a distant memory in a few months.
"Nah, a surprise is much better, even if it makes you look dumb," I tell him, my fingers trailing over my body as I bite my lip. I don’t truly know if the guys had a stripper or not, and I don’t want to know. But my future husband is going to get a show either way.
Ruthless (The Clans Book 8) Page 11