She glared at me. “Cute.”
“Can you manage that by the end of the day?”
“I’m insulted that you would ask that. I could have three beautiful boys of your liking outfitted and moved in by midafternoon if you required it. That’s why you love me.”
“Out.” I pointed at the door.
“I’ll take care of it, and Lucien?”
I sighed. “What?”
“Be careful with this one.”
“I’ll try.”
7
Peter
I was updating some client records Carla had asked me to assist her with when I felt Lucien’s presence. I hadn’t heard him approach, but the buzz across my skin told me he was there. I looked up and saw him watching me. His expression was softer than I’d ever seen it. “How may I help you, sir?”
He smiled. “You’ve done enough for the day. Go ahead and close out what you’re doing. I have a car waiting to take you to your new home.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean new home?”
“Your apartment is unsafe, impossible to secure, likely rat-infested, and in need of a long list of repairs. It’s not suitable for you in any way, so as part of your employment compensation, I’ve made new living arrangements for you. Some of your things have been moved there already, and the rest will arrive tomorrow.”
“You broke into my apartment? You had someone pack up my things? You can’t just—”
He sighed. “Are we really going to go through this again? I can do anything I want.”
My chest felt so tight I wasn’t sure I could get enough air. “Wh-what if I don’t want to move?”
“Are you telling me you’re happy with your apartment, that you would choose to live there if you could afford better?”
“But I can’t afford better, and you’re not even going to be paying me.”
“You don’t need to worry about that because housing comes with the job.”
I shook my head, and the room started to spin around me. “Receptionist jobs do not include housing.”
“They do when they work for me.”
“Did your last receptionist receive this benefit?”
He shrugged. “No, and she didn’t qualify for some other benefits you’re going to be getting as well.”
This wasn’t happening. “Please don’t make me do this.”
“Moving isn’t optional, and this discussion is over. There’s a car waiting downstairs, and I have people waiting on me. I will speak with you later tonight.”
“Not tomorrow?”
“No. There are clearly more things we need to get straight between us, but this isn’t the place to do that.”
I glanced over at Carla who was very pointedly not looking at us. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’ve decided you’re mine.”
He’d sent men to force me here today. He’d spanked me in his office. Why had I thought he’d let me have any freedom? “Am I your prisoner?”
“That’s such an ugly word. You’re under my protection. That means I need to keep you close.”
“I should never have listened to Jimmy.”
“No. But I’m glad you did.”
I was fighting back tears by the time I reached the lobby. The men who’d brought me to the office that morning were waiting for me. “Mr. Kelly, your car is just outside. I’m Ralph, by the way, according to Mr. Marchesi, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
“Thank you.” What else was there to say? I apparently belonged to Lucien now.
Was that really so bad, though? I didn’t know anymore. Of course I didn’t want to go home to my sad, dingy apartment where the shower dripped, the kitchen floor was warped and crumbling, and the walls were so thin I knew all my neighbors’ business. I’d yet to see a rat inside my apartment, but there were plenty of roaches to keep me company. Who wouldn’t want something nicer? And why shouldn’t that be part of an employment package? There were jobs that came with housing.
They probably didn’t require you to fuck your boss, though. I wasn’t a whore. I’d never gone there, and I didn’t want to do it now. I thought I was turning down Jimmy’s offer of a sugar daddy, but apparently that was what I’d accepted anyway. And worse, Lucien wasn’t going to let me walk away, though I was probably fooling myself to think any of the other men Jimmy would’ve sent me to would have let me go either, at least not without beating me half to death first. The fucked-up thing was I liked Lucien, and all my instincts told me he wasn’t going to hurt me, not enough to cause lasting damage anyway. I was sure he would hurt me again in the way he had that morning, but I had liked that all too much.
As the car made slow progress through the evening traffic, I tried not to think too much more about my predicament. If I found a way out, I would take it, and until then, I’d survive like I always had and maybe even let myself enjoy it. I wondered what my new apartment would be like. I expected Lucien to give me a decent apartment, one where I didn’t feel nervous every time I came home, but as we drove through the North End, I began to wonder where he’d found something for me that wasn’t outrageously overpriced. When the car slowed as we passed an idyllic row of homes, my pulse sped up. Then Ralph turned in to an actual, honest-to-God, off-the-street parking spot. I tapped on the glass that separated me from the men I assumed were Lucien’s bodyguards. Ralph slid the window open, and I asked, “Where are we?”
“Marchesi’s home. This is where he told us to take you.”
“He has an apartment here?”
Ralph snorted. “He owns the whole building. Lives here with his family.”
Fuck. Lucien hadn’t gotten me a new place to live; he was moving me in with him.
A woman who looked to be in her early sixties answered the door. She had gray hair pulled into a low ponytail, and she was wearing a serviceable black dress with a white apron over it. “I’m Lola, the housekeeper. You must be Peter.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do come in. Your room is ready, and everything Mr. Lucien ordered has been delivered and taken there for you.”
“Do you mean the things from my apartment?”
“Oh, yes, those too but also all the things he purchased.”
What had Lucien done? “I didn’t realize he had…”
“He might have gone a little overboard. It was hard to fit everything in initially, so I had to go ahead and unpack some things and hang them up. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no. I don’t mind at all.”
“That’s great, dear. Would you like a tour of the house first or would you prefer to go ahead and settle in?”
The whole situation was surreal. Lola was warm and relaxed, and she treated me like an honored guest, not a prisoner or her boss’s trick. Lucien’s home wasn’t what I would’ve expected. It was clear he was extremely wealthy—he employed a housekeeper after all. But inside, it was bright with vibrant colors and plenty of light. The furnishings looked expensive but not stuffy. It was definitely not the opulent mobster house of my imagination, decorated in red and gold with lots of dark wood.
I supposed I might as well have a tour of the house since, apparently, I was going to be living there until Lucien tired of me or I found a way to escape. A tour of the house would at least show me some escape options.
Do you really think you’d get far?
I didn’t, but I refused to think about that.
“A tour would be great. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Lola said. “I’ll show you to the dining room first. If Lucien doesn’t have other plans for you for dinner, you’ll dine here at eight o’clock.”
The dining room was decorated in vibrant greens and yellows. The gleaming wood table had intricately carved legs, but the matching chairs looked sturdy enough to hold Lucien and his relatives.
“Breakfast is served at seven and lunch at one, whenever you’re home for those meals. You can always request something be brought to your room or come down to
the kitchen for whatever you need. I want you to feel at home here.”
Captivity sounded much better than my day-to-day life: food anytime I wanted it and people to bring it to me. Maybe I should’ve looked into this whole being a plaything to a mobster earlier.
Lola showed me the kitchen which was done in a French country style. There was a platter of chocolate chip cookies on the counter, and she insisted I have one.
“Wow, these are delicious,” I said after chewing my first bite.
“Thank you. Mr. Lucien has a bit of a sweet tooth, so I like to keep something around for him.” I tried to imagine Lucien swooning over a cookie, but it was impossible.
The kitchen was so inviting I almost didn’t want to leave, but I followed Lola through a sitting room, the formal living room, and then upstairs. As we reached the landing, a door opened down the hall, and Angelo stepped out.
“Ah, my brother brought you home. I’m not surprised.”
“Peter will be staying with us for a while, Mr. Angelo. Your brother has asked that—”
“I be on my best behavior? When am I not?” He blew a kiss to Lola then raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Lola sniffed. “That one. He’s been like that since he was a child. But he’s loyal to Lucien, and you can trust him. For anything.”
I wondered how much she knew about the family. If she’d been with them since Angelo and Lucien were children, then she had to know a lot, probably more than she let on. “How many family members live here?”
“Four. Mr. Lucien’s father, Franco Marchesi, isn’t here now, though. He’s spending several months in the Bahamas, but Mr. Franco’s sister, Sabrina, has lived here since she left her husband, and Mr. Lucien’s brother, Angelo, and their cousin Devil are part of the household. The three of them are on this floor, but I put you in the guest room next to Mr. Lucien. I assumed he’d prefer that.” We continued on to the third floor.
I’d assumed Lucien would prefer me to be waiting in his bed, but I was glad I’d have my own space, not that I had any illusions he wouldn’t burst in whenever he chose.
Lola opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I stared in awe. The room was much larger than the closet-like bedroom in my apartment. The color palette included varying shades of blue and white. There was a queen-sized bed with a beautifully carved pine frame. The bed itself would have filled the entire bedroom in my apartment, but here, there was room for a chaise as well as a desk matching the style of the bed. The floor was hardwood, but a pale blue rug lay under the bed, and it looked like it would feel heavenly under my feet. In front of the low-backed, cream-colored sofa lay another rug in a darker blue.
“I’ve placed the things from your apartment here.” She pointed to some matching suitcases that were against the wall by a door I guessed led to a closet.
“That’s not my luggage.”
“Carla selected it for you, but if it’s not to your liking, let me know.”
“Oh, it’s not that. It’s just that I…”
“Mr. Lucien likes buying nice things. You’ll get used to it.”
I didn’t think I would, nor would it be good for me to.
“This is your bathroom.” She indicated a different door. It was twice the size of the one in my apartment. There was a tub as well as a shower. The tile, towels, and bathmat were dark blue, and the rest was bright white and so clean it sparkled.
“Is everything satisfactory?” Lola asked.
I realized I’d been gawking and not really paying attention. “It’s lovely. I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”
“Wait until you see the closet.”
I wasn’t sure I could handle that. She opened the door next to the suitcases, and as I suspected, the closet was huge—at least by city standards—and it was filled with clothes. Not my own clothes, which would hardly have taken up a tenth of the space, but clothes so far out of my price range I was afraid to touch them. There were shoe boxes on the floor and several bags that seemed to be filled with bottles of shampoo, body wash, and who knew what other products.
“All this is for me?”
Lola smiled. “Yes. I considered taking these into the bathroom”—she gestured toward the bags filled with all manner of toiletries—“but I thought you might want to arrange them yourself.”
I thought about my shower at home. The only things in there were a bar of soap and bottles of shampoo and conditioner. “I’m sure I don’t need all of this.”
“Mr. Lucien wants you to be comfortable here. Use whatever you need, and if there’s anything else you’d like, just let me know.”
Would he really buy anything for me? “I can’t accept all this.”
“You’ll have to discuss that with Mr. Lucien.”
I could imagine how that conversation would go. Lucien did whatever he wanted, and I was expected to accept it. I got up the nerve to reach out and touch one of the shirts. The fabric was so soft and would feel amazing sliding against my skin. I should refuse all of this and try to figure out how to convince Lucien to let me go, but I couldn’t help but fantasize about how wonderful it would be to be his pampered princess. What would he expect of me in return?
More than I was willing to give? Maybe not. I definitely didn’t mind working as a receptionist, and I’d been given far less work to do than in the offices where I’d temped. I was still a little afraid of Carla, but she never demeaned me or expected too much, and she was incredibly competent, which was more than I could say for most of the people I’d worked with.
“Do you have any other questions?” Lola asked.
I had so many questions, but none of them were for Lola, and most of them would likely go unanswered. “No. Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you here then. As I said before, dinner is at eight. I’m sure Mr. Lucien will let you know if he has other plans once he arrives.” Before she reached the door, she turned back. “I almost forgot. There’s a phone for you on the nightstand. Mr. Lucien will contact you on it if he has a message for you.”
“I already have a phone.”
She smiled. “Mr. Lucien would like you to use that one. The number is written on the box, and his number is already programmed in.”
“Thank you.” What else was there for me to say?
“You’re welcome. Please don’t hesitate to ask if there’s anything else you need.” She left then.
I crossed the room on wobbly legs and flopped down on the sofa. I looked around the room once more. The closet door stood open, and I wondered how many thousands of dollars the collection of clothes and shoes represented. More than I made last year probably.
What would happen if I tried to leave? Was Ralph waiting outside to make sure I stayed put? What would happen if I left and Lucien didn’t send someone to bring me back? I’d go back to searching for temp jobs and living in my shitty apartment that would seem even worse after being tempted with this beautiful room. I’d also go back to dreaming of a man who’d treat me like I meant something, a strong man who could protect me and take care of me so I could stop worrying about survival for just a little while. A man just like Lucien.
He was the man I’d been dreaming of in almost every way, but in my fantasies, my prince was never a criminal.
A little while later, Lucien messaged me. He said that some unexpected business was taking him out of town for the night, and he would see me the next day. Not wanting to eat dinner with Lucien’s family, I found Lola in the kitchen and asked if I could take something up to my room. She prepared a tray for me and brought me another the next morning for breakfast. Ralph drove me to work, and Carla made sure I knew what my duties were for the day.
Lucien never showed up at the office, and when it was time for me to leave, Ralph was once again waiting for me in the lobby. The longer I existed in the strange new world without Lucien there to anchor me, the more agitated I felt. I needed some piece of normality, some reminder of who I really was. As Ralph held open the car door for me, I said, “I
’d like to go see my uncle.”
He shook his head. “My orders are to take you back to the boss’s house.”
“Are you saying I’m not allowed to go anywhere but the house or this office?”
He shrugged. “Those are my orders.”
“Where is Lucien?”
“It’s not my business to ask questions. I just do what I’m told.”
“Please take me to my uncle’s bar. I just want to talk to him. You can stay and make sure I don’t leave.”
Ralph shook his head. “You can call your uncle. The boss won’t mind that, but I can’t take you anywhere except home.”
“It’s not my home.”
“As you say.”
Angry as I was, I couldn’t blame Ralph for not wanting to cross Lucien. I’d been following his orders too. The extent to which my life was under Lucien’s control hadn’t really hit me before, not even when I’d spent the night in his house. It had all still seemed like a dream, but now, knowing Lucien was controlling all my movements, panic set in. My heart raced, and my chest felt tight. I needed to see Lucien, to talk to him, to explain that I couldn’t belong to him. I needed to know if he would listen to me or if I was truly a prisoner.
I struggled to keep from having a breakdown on the ride to Lucien’s house. As soon as we arrived, I rushed upstairs to my room. I didn’t even reach the bed before I crumpled into a heap and let the tears come.
8
Lucien
After meeting with my new buyer, it came to my attention that there was an issue with a chop shop in New Jersey that we had an understanding with. The automotive division of our criminal enterprises dealt solely in high-end car parts, but these fuckers were trying to mix in low-end shit and charge top prices. I decided the situation needed some personal attention.
I hadn’t liked leaving Peter alone on his first night at my house, but I also hadn’t wanted him to see the side of me that was going to come out when I confronted the men who thought they could double-cross me. I’d known there would be blood, a lot of it, and Peter seemed like the kind of guy that might not do well with that. Also, what was the point of trying to protect him if I brought him into a confrontation. He was better off in Lola’s care. I just hoped Angelo and Devil hadn’t given him any shit. After the day I’d had, they’d be fucking sorry if I found out they’d shown him any disrespect.
Lucien Page 5