10

The attempt doesn’t work.
I slap my chest, and green sprays from my mouth. Tears brim my eyes as I struggle for breath. A chair clatters to the floor, and hands pull me to my feet. Carmine wraps his arms around my waist, tucking my back against his chest to perform the Heimlich maneuver.
I’m gasping for breath, clawing at my throat, tears drip from my eyes, and my vision blurs. Carmine squeezes me so hard that pain seizes my ribs. Finally, I cough, sending broccoli chunks flying across the kitchen.
Strings of spit drip from my mouth as I struggle to breathe again. My nails dig into Carmine’s hand which is still pressed against my stomach.
I almost died from fucking broccoli.
“I have you. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He spins me around and buries my face in his chest as I cry in relief, the gasps still coming out loud and panicked. His fingers comb through my hair while he shushes me, crooning sweet nothings I can’t understand because I can’t focus on anything beyond my ragged breathing and burning chest.
Gently, he swings me into his arms and sits down on a nearby chair, so I’m curled up on his lap, cheek pressed to his shoulder.
Leaning away from me, his hands fall on either side of my face. “You scared the life out of me.” An hint of anger edges his tone. “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t stuff three pieces of broccoli in your mouth at once, Delilah. I never want to experience fear like that again.” He wipes my mouth clean and brings water to my lips. “Slow,” he warns, fingers still slicing through my hair that’s long since fallen out of my bun.
I didn’t argue. The cold water soothes the rawness of my throat, easing the ache. Carmine takes the cup away from me, setting it next to the golden plate with my half-eaten dinner. Sagging against him, I shut my eyes and take a deep breath while he rubs my back.
The soothing circles are nice, and soon, I’m relaxed and breathing normally. I turn my head on his shoulder until my nose is pressing against the side of his neck, and I inhale the spicy scent of his expensive perfume. “Thank you,” I croak, my throat hoarse from that damn piece of broccoli.
“I said I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. Even wayward broccoli.”
I chuckle and lift my head, wanting to see the humor in his eyes, but there’s none. He’s serious.
“It was only broccoli,” I rasp. “I shouldn’t have put so much in my mouth. I was eager to get to the contract.”
His fingertips are under my chin, and he leans closer to me, irises as dark as a starless sky. “There will be plenty of times where your eagerness will be rewarded and your mouth will be full, but only when I say, okay, Sweetling?”
“There you go, speaking things you know nothing about.” I reach for the water again and take a sip, continuing to sit on his lap.
“I know enough.” He slides the envelope to me and taps the contract with his index finger. “Open it. You’ll find I’ve already signed it.”
“I think it’s best to look this over while I’m not in your lap.” I slide off his thighs and I’m surprised he lets me go. By the way his jaw clenches, he isn’t happy about it.
Still, I appreciate him giving me space to read this. I’ve seen many sides to Carmine Milazzo, depending on his mood, and I never know which side I’ll get.
Opening the letter with shaky hands, I take a deep breath, unfold the paper and read:
This contract is entered into by Carmine Milazzo (First Party) and Delilah June Reynolds (Second Party). The term of this agreement shall begin within one week of Ms. Delilah Reynolds staying in the Milazzo Estate and shall continue through the end of three years.
The specific terms of the Contract are as follows:
Delilah Reynolds has agreed to marry and carry Carmine Milazzo’s child in return for her father’s debt to be paid.
When the two parties have sexual intercourse for the first time, Delilah Reynolds will choose when it happens.
Delilah Reynolds agrees to share Carmine Milazzo’s bed and no other, not even her own.
If/When the two parties have a child together, both parties will raise said child together. Delilah shall be a part of the child’s life always, at all times. The mother will always have access to her child.
Delilah Reynolds will agree to wear engagement and wedding rings provided by Carmine Milazzo , as will Carmine-no exceptions.
Delilah Reynolds will not request a separation or divorce for three years-if she wants one, only when the contract has ended.
Carmine Milazzo will financially support Delilah Reynolds and their child for the duration of their lives. If Mr. Milazzo passes away prior to Ms. Reynolds or their child, his estate will continue to provide for their needs.
This agreement will only be broken should one or both of the parties expire prior to the terms of the agreement being met.
Delilah Reynolds must kiss Carmine Milazzo before the parties go to sleep. The first time is to be initiated by her, but every other time, Carmine Milazzo will not rest until the kiss has happened.
Carmine Milazzo vows to protect Delilah Reynolds and their child at all costs, including with his life, finances, and well-being.
This Contract may not be modified. This Contract is legally binding until either Party amends and/or signs a new agreement.
Carmine’s signature is in red ink, the perfect cursive hugging the black line along with the date. My spot is empty and waiting to be signed.
“Do you have any questions, Sweetling?” he asks, placing the red fountain pen in front of me.
“If I did, would you answer honestly?”
For some reason, he grabs my water glass and hands it to me. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated.”
I do as he says, pausing as I swallow because why am I doing as he says? Do I like not having to think for myself?
“I’ll always be honest with you, Delilah. Lies do not make a good man.”
“But killing does?”
He stands, bending down until his face is close to mine. His hand braces against the chair while his other grips the table’s edge. “There’s a fine line between good and bad. Good men do what it takes to protect themselves; bad men only do what it takes to protect themselves.”
“You consider yourself a good man, then?” I dare to ask.
“Mmm,” he hums, softly, playing with my hair while he considers my question. “I’m a good man with very bad intentions.” He grabs the pen and places it in my palm, curling my fingers around it. “My intentions with you are purely selfish, Ms. Reynolds.”
The hurt in my throat flares to life as I gulp. “Those intentions aren’t listed. They weren’t part of the deal.”
He sits back down slowly, and a smug look crosses his face. “Sign the document, Sweetling. I don’t want to waste another second where you aren’t mine.”
But did I want to be his?
The voice in my head says, ‘hell yes.’
Pen to paper, the red ink reminds me of blood as I sign my life away. As I carve my name into the paper, I glance at the terms again. Every single one of them protects me in some way.
“Why do you want a kiss at the end of every night?” I sign the document and gently set the pen down. “That’s very intimate.”
“That isn’t up for discussion.” He snatches the document from my hands and points it to my plate. “Eat your food, and don’t choke on it this time.”
I sag against the chair and push my plate away. I’m starting to think understanding Carmine’s mind is an impossible task I shouldn’t attempt.
A kiss doesn’t sound that bad, does it?