The Marriage Contract

Chapter3

I easily found my way back to my room, and just like he'd said, my things were stacked in one corner. My little fake life fit into boxes and bags.

What was going to happen to my apartment? I'd just signed the lease as Anna Cole for an entire year. It would still be in my name but uninhabited.

That was the least of my worries now.

My main worry was how I was going to infiltrate the Belucci crime family with a child running about the house.

I sat on the bed, and its softness and warmth pulled me in. Suddenly I felt so tired.

Marco's ring was still on my finger. I raised my hand and studied it as the diamond glinted in the light.

I suddenly had this dreadful feeling that I'd put myself into something I didn't understand.

Marco needed a wife, but why? And why did he keep his daughter a secret?

I needed to talk to him. I got up before I could convince myself otherwise and went back to the hallway. No one was passing by; not a sound could be heard.

I needed to find Marco.

I took a turn I wasn't sure I was supposed to, and it led me to a different section of the house. These were the other rooms Rita had mentioned earlier. I counted another seven.

It was just as quiet here. And just as I was about to start making my way back, I heard a muffled voice speaking; it came out sounding fast and sharp. And when I drew closer to the sound, I realised it was Italian.

There was a long pause. Then another firing outburst of words I didn't know.

But I knew who was speaking.

Marco.

He was very fluent. And I could tell now that the inflexions in his English came from this Italian-speaking side of him.

I, on the other hand, barely understood my mother tongue and spoke even less.

I inched as close as I possibly could to the door and pressed my ear against the cold wood. Like that would suddenly make me understand any more than I already did.

"Non ne parleremo al telefono. Non posso farlo domani. Lui è con la famiglia..."

Telefono. Domani. Famiglia.

Telephone. Tomorrow. Family.

What was happening tomorrow?

Standing there with my ear pressed against the door, I knew exactly what this would look like if someone caught me.

One word.

Rat.

Footsteps approached from inside.

I straightened immediately and knocked.

His eyes darkened the moment they landed on me.

He didn't say anything to me; instead, he spoke into his phone pressed to his ear.

"Later. Mia moglie è qui."

Recognition of that word settled like a warm blanket over me. Mia moglie. My wife.

I swallowed.

He shoved his phone into his pocket, walked across the room and stood by the wall with his arms crossed. I guessed that was my cue to come in, so I did.

"I told you not to go lurking around the house."

How could I not? The place was huge. And no one was present to point me in the right direction.

His gaze trailed me as I walked into the room.

I stopped by his desk. This seemed like his study, a quiet place set apart from the uproar of the house where he could have meetings and close deals.

I would need to set up a wire in here soon. But where? I looked around. The room had a very high ceiling. Everything was shiny and ornate.

"I'm sorry. I just... Your home is very huge. And lovely."

His eyes swept up and down my entire frame before he sighed and looked away.

"What do you want?"

"Right. About earlier with Mia, I apologise. I know it must have been weird seeing me in your daughter's room like that." I paused, trying to gauge his reaction. "But up until then I didn't even know you had a daughter..."

At that, he turned sharply to face me.

"And?"

"I mean, we are married. You didn't say anything about it."

"Okay."

"Okay...?"

"What do you want to know?"

"I... I just..."

"Yes, she is my daughter. Yes, she lives here."

He pushed off the wall and walked towards me. Instinctively, I moved back.

"That wasn't what I was going to ask."

Shock crossed his face before he settled back into perpetual annoyance.

"I know she's your daughter. That much is clear now."

"Then what do you want?"

"Why didn't you say anything? Even your lawyers? Didn't you think it was important for me to know what I was getting myself into beforehand? If I'd known, I would have been prepared…"

Prepared for what exactly? If I had known that he had a daughter, would I have still taken the role? I wasn't so sure. All I knew now was that there had to be some reason his daughter was such a well-kept secret, and my agent brain had to find out.

"And what would you have prepared for? What would you have done differently? Would you have brought along some sweets? Or a storybook to read her to sleep every night?"

His sarcasm felt like hot coal against my skin. A tension-filled pause followed. I didn't know what to say to that.

In a few strides, he was standing directly in front of me, and I tried to step back again. Only then did I realise I was cornered by the heavy desk behind me. Now he was towering over me, his head inching even closer to mine.

I never imagined I'd find myself in this position on my first day in this house.

He didn't need to raise his voice or lay a hand on me. He only had to stand there and let me feel the difference in our size, the weight of his presence, the complete lack of space he'd left me.

He knew exactly how intimidating he was.

"Let me be clear about one thing, Miss Cole."

That stung. We’d just gotten married, but I guess it didn't matter to him. All that talk about being one of them and wearing the sign of the Belucci family was for what? Briefly, I felt the weight on my finger where the ring had been all day.

"You are not Mia’s mother. And you never will be."

The look in his eyes was hard and cold.

"Don't pretend like you're in this for any other reason than what it is."

With that, he pulled away and went to the other side of the desk.

He sat, opened a drawer and brought out a thick, large brown envelope, which he threw in the centre between us.

"Take it. And leave my office."

"What's this?"

Marco ran a hand down his face, and a short, humourless laugh escaped his lips, and it took me a moment to realise what this actually was. What this meant.

The incentive for playing the role of his contract wife was a million dollars paid out monthly until the tenure was done. Something I had entirely forgotten about.

"Don't try to be modest. Don't insult your own intelligence or mine. You're just like every woman who has walked in here before you. Take your payment and leave."

If only he knew.

If only he knew who I actually was and what I was actually here for.

I didn't need his damned money. His drug money or his blood money. What I needed was an explanation. And I could see now that the Don of the Belucci family was way too arrogant to explain himself to anyone.

Every instinct in me wanted to shove the envelope back across the desk. But Anna Cole wasn't supposed to have principles about where Marco Belucci's money came from.

Anna Cole was supposed to want it.

Reluctantly, I picked up the envelope. It was heavy. I'd never touched this much money at once in my entire life. Except for anything that went into the evidence unit at the bureau. Good lord.

I turned on my heels and began walking out before I said something that would make Anna Cole look like someone Marco Belucci should be suspicious of.

By the time I got back to my room, I couldn't bring myself to unpack anything.

Those boxes would have to wait.

I bathed, changed into something I could sleep in, and climbed into bed. The room was beginning to darken as the sun set outside.

The bed was warm and comfortable, but sleep wouldn't come. My mind kept circling back to the mission, to Marco's strange behaviour, to Mia, and to everything that had happened since I'd walked into this house.

Then there was a knock.

I sat up, not sure if it was meant for me.

The person knocked again, more urgently this time.

“Coming!”

I got up and went to the door.

"Can I help you?" I'd already started to say before realising who it was.

Marco.

I still felt bitter about the last time we spoke. He'd been needlessly cruel. But what else could I expect from someone like him?

Without a word, he handed me a box. I took it reluctantly.

Was this a gift? Some kind of twisted form of an apology?

"What's this?"

He didn't respond. Instead...

"Be ready by ten tomorrow. Wear this."

Tomorrow.

Was this what he'd been talking about on the phone?

I stared after him, but he was already halfway down the hall.

Where the hell was he taking me?

I closed the door and opened the box.

Inside was a silky olive-green dress. Nothing like I'd ever worn before.

I hung it in the closet and went back to bed.

I was exhausted, but sleep still wouldn't come. My mind wouldn't quiet down.

Eventually, I must have drifted off.

Then I heard crying.

I put a pillow over my head, but it wouldn't stop. Now my eyes were wide open. The only thing I could do about the noise was follow it.

The sound echoed down the hallway.

Marco had specifically said he didn't want me lurking. But then this was the second time I was hearing something I couldn't just ignore.

I followed the sound until I stopped at Mia's door.

Again.

I could hear her muffled cries. I knocked.

"Mia? It's me, Anna. Can I come in?'

She stopped crying. Then I heard feet shuffling, a lock unlatching and the door opening.

I peeped inside. And right as she saw me, she burst into tears again.

"Don't cry."

I felt helpless standing there like that. The least I could do was try to console her, and it didn't feel like enough.

I walked her back to her bed to sit, but she threw herself back on and buried her face in a pillow.

“Mia. Why are you crying?”

The poor girl could barely form a word before another sob overtook her. She was shaking. Something in me wanted to hold her to tell her everything would be okay and that I would protect her. But I couldn't. That wasn't my role. Marco made it very clear he didn't want me around his daughter, so even being here was a risk.

But she was crying; I couldn't just leave her.

“Was it a bad dream?” I said, scooting closer. I put a hand on her back, and she threw herself onto my lap. Her tears soaked through the thin material of my nightdress.

“No,” she managed. I could barely make out the word from her sobs.

“Then tell me.” I paused. “Whatever it is, I'll fix it.”

That was a huge promise to make. But I would try if it was within my power.

She raised her head finally. Her lips quivered as she spoke.

“Daddy says you're leaving.”