21

Cara
I last twenty minutes alone in his sitting room before I start snooping.
I try to justify myself as I go through his medicine cabinet. I’m just trying to learn more about the man I’m going to fake-marry-or real-marry, or pretend-real-marry, or whatever this is-so it’s not immoral to look at all his stuff.
Razor, shaving cream, Band-Aids, toothbrush, nothing interesting.
I’m not really sure what the hell we’re doing, but I’m drifting along like a log on a wave lost in the current, and Eros is the entire ocean.
His closet is better. Enormous and filled with expensive, custom-tailored suits, racks of designer jeans and shoes and shirts, and a hundred ties in black and dark blue. There’s a shelf covered in glittering, no-doubt priceless watches, lit with custom bulbs so the whole display glows like a storefront window.
Eros doesn’t strike me as the type of man obsessed with the way he looks, but his closet suggests otherwise.
And his comment from earlier flits through my mind: in this world, appearance is everything.
The rest of the bedroom is more or less what I expected. A dresser with socks and underwear, loungewear, exercise clothes, extra linens. There’s very little personality, no photographs of family, nothing on the walls but generic oil paintings like the rest of the house. If he hadn’t told me this was his personal bedroom, I almost wouldn’t believe anyone sleeps in this place. The bed is made and the sheets are crisp and tight.
And yet, the bed is big and comfortable, and there’s an old army surplus knife lying on the nightstand. It’s beat up and scratched, with no markings except for a date, 1942. It’s entirely out of sync with the rest of the bland, spotless decor, and I’m afraid to even pick it up.
When I’m done exploring, I end up out on the balcony, staring at my phone.
I’m getting married to a gangster. Again. And some part of me thinks I need to tell someone in case I end up in a missing person’s report in the next few months.
A normal person would call their parents, or their friends, or post on social media, or do any number of normal person things.
Except I have no friends. Christopher made sure of that.
He refused to let me go out and see what few I had left from high school, and as the years passed, the texts slowly tapered off until they stopped coming entirely. I could reach out to my parents, but the thought of speaking with them makes my stomach do flips. I’d rather puke than hear my mother’s voice again. I’d rather jump off this balcony than listen to my father talk about the Phillies.
Which leaves me with nothing and nobody.
Except for Ophelia. I have her number, and although I haven’t used it, I stare at the listing in my phone for a second, wondering if we’re close enough for me to call her. Probably not, but a sudden wave of loneliness and desperation washes over me, and I punch the call button even though I know it’s weird.
She answers on the second ring. “Hey, Cara! I was just thinking about you. Is everything okay? You looked pretty upset when you left work earlier.”
“Hey, Phel, I’m okay I think. Just had to deal with some, uh, personal issues.”
“But you’re all right?” She sounds genuinely worried, and her concern makes a dull, happy glow build in my chest.
“Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
“Are you coming in tomorrow? Dad asked me earlier and I didn’t know.”
I hesitate, looking back over my shoulder. “Yes,” I say firmly, even though I’m pretty sure Eros will never allow it, but I’ll think of something. “I’ll be there. Maybe not at opening though.”
“No probs. I’m really happy you called to check in, I was seriously worried.”
“Hey, Phel, uh. I have a weird question.”
“After today I think we’re past the whole awkward phase of our friendship, so go ahead and shoot.”
I grin to myself. Friendship. That word turns the dull glow in my chest into a full-on fire. “Can you tell me everything you know about Eros?”
She cackles like that’s the funniest thing anyone’s ever said. “My god, girl, you’re insane. Like, you’re calling me to ask about the guy I caught going down on you earlier today? Shouldn’t you know him better than I do? No, don’t start apologizing, I absolutely love your psycho energy.”
I’m blushing like crazy, embarrassed beyond belief, but seriously, at this point, it can’t get any worse and I might as well push ahead. “It’s just that, I know he’s, you know, one of those guys. But I don’t actually know anything about the man.”
“I’m not really up on the hot gossip these days. The whole Khazan family stuff is a little too serious and boring for my taste. But, uh, basically, Eros took over the operation a few years back and I think it was pretty ugly for a while. I guess it was like…” She trails off for a second, leaving that thought unfinished.
“Like what?” I press and some part of me doesn’t want her to say it.
“Like a coup. You know.” She clears her throat. “And it was violent. But, hey, I don’t think it’s always like that, okay? Mostly the family’s boring. They run their businesses and do their stupid little crimes and eat too much food. They think they’re cool, but they’re honestly living in another century.”
“Right,” I say, suddenly feeling very exposed and dizzy. I have to grip the balcony to steady myself.
Eros took over his family in a violent coup. He didn’t mention that part of his ascension to power.
Suddenly, being here in his room takes on a much different tenor, and I wonder who exactly I’ve gotten myself mixed up with.
He has enemies, including in his own house, and now I think I understand why.
“Otherwise, I hear he’s pretty fair. You know, tough but fair. My dad likes him, even if he doesn’t like the way stuff went down back when Eros took power.” She laughs lightly like she’s discussing a hilarious TV show. “They say he’s a workaholic with no personal life. Or, well, that’s what my dad says. And that’s pretty much everything I know. Sorry it’s not more, but hey, you’re in a much better position to get to know the man than I am, right?”
“Totally,” I say, squeezing my eyes closed.
“Hey, you okay? I didn’t freak you out, did I?”
“No, it’s not that, I’m happy you told me. It’s just-” I pause for a second, feeling lightheaded. “I’m at his house right now.”
She’s silent for a long moment. Then she bursts out laughing. “God damn it, Cara, you’re calling me from the freaking Khazan family mansion? That place is like mythical in Chicago, and you’re literally inside of it right now? Seriously, girl, strong psycho energy, and I’m into it.”
“Thanks, Phel, you’re such a sweetheart,” I say miserably. “I’m glad I’m amusing.”
She cackles with delight. “You’d better go before they catch you talking to me. I want to hear details tomorrow. Seriously, details. Not about you and Eros, god, no, I saw enough of that already, but about the house.”
“I know what you meant. Thanks for talking to me.”
“Good luck!”
And she hangs up. I stare at the phone, trying to come to grips with my situation. Stuck in a mansion with a violent mobster. About to get married to him for my own safety.
Trapped in another relationship.
At least this time, I can walk away whenever I choose. According to Eros anyway.
“Who was that?”
I jump and nearly fall over the banister. Eros’s at my side, faster than I would’ve guessed, his hands on my hips making sure I don’t tumble down to my death.
“Fucking dog-shit-eating hell, Eros,” I hiss and shove him back. “You scared me half to death.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
I glare at him. “I wasn’t talking to anyone, okay?”
His smile fades. “That’s the wrong answer.” He holds out a hand. “Phone.”
“Excuse me?”
“Phone.” He says it impatiently. “You’re the ex-wife of an Italian gangster. I need to be absolutely sure I’m not making a mistake.”
My jaw drops.
This man can’t be serious right now.
Rage flares, hot and bright.
“Are you accusing me of being a spy?”
“I’m saying I have to be careful.” His head tilts. “Show me the phone. Prove you’re not being shady and only your normal stubborn self. I am not the type of man that shares willingly.”
I want to scream at him. I want to claw out his eyes. He saw the way things were with Christopher. He heard the way my ex-husband spoke to me. He met me at the lowest point of my life, totally out of the blue, by pure happenstance-and the bastard wants to see my phone?
“You want it?” I ask, showing my teeth. “Okay. Here you go.”
I turn and throw the phone as hard as I can off the balcony. It spins and spins in the air-
And drops into the pool.
Eros stands, staring down at the water. I follow his gaze, and slowly, I realize my mistake.
“Well,” he says. “That takes care of that.” He walks away.
“Wait,” I say, feeling desperate. “Hold on. I need to fish that out. My phone-”
“I’ll get you a replacement, asteraki mu. In fact, I’ll have all your things brought over from your apartment.” His smirk is infuriating, but I can only stand there and look down at my very stupid decision, at my last lifeline to the real world, sitting at the bottom of the deep end.