I nod, too confused and overwhelmed to argue, and he disappears outside. I’m left alone in the conference room with nothing but the buzz of the lights and the hum of the air conditioning and the windows overlooking a highway to keep me company. Cars flit past, the sunlight beats against the rocky landscape, and I try to picture my life with Kellen if none of this had happened, if Cait hadn’t died, if he hadn’t left his family, if I hadn’t fallen into a hole of self-loathing and been unable to climb back out.
It’s not hard to see it. A strange measure of happiness. I could have a family and friends. I could have a life. Yes, I’d be a mob wife, because Kellen would be in his family’s crime business no matter what, but at least there’d be warmth instead of this strange contractual coldness tinged by the white-hot fire of pure forbidden lust.
I lose myself in the language on the paper in front of me and try to let it distract me enough to calm down. Ghosts of Cait and Kellen and the me-that-could’ve-been flit into my brain, but by the time Albert and Finn come back in followed by my husband, I’m mostly back together again.
“Ready to sign?” Albert asks gently, smiling, and pushes a Coke across the table. I thank him, crack open the can, and take a sip.
“Ready.”
He walks me through everything patiently. I sign all the documents, Kellen signs and dates and initials, and when we’re done, we drift back through the building, get into the Range Rover, and leave Albert on the sidewalk. He waves like a little boy, looking lost.
My husband drives and Finn sits shotgun.
“Please don’t argue, but when we get back, I need you to pack your things.” Kellen doesn’t take his eyes off the road.
I frown up at him. “Excuse me?”
“You’re going to want to argue. I’m asking you not to.”
“Argue about what?” My heart’s racing and I have a horrible feeling. I know where this is going, but I don’t want to follow the logic and actually hear him say the words I’m dreading so much. This is impossible, and if he thinks I’m going along with whatever he says just because he was nice to me for ten seconds in that conference room—
“When we get back to the estate, you’re going to come live with me, sleep in my room, and share my bed.” He doesn’t blink as he speaks, only stares straight ahead. “There will be no discussion, wife. You’re mine now, and you’ll act like it.”
Those words spell my end.