THE ULTIMATUM
3030 Words
MARIA
Twenty-three hours left.
I haven’t slept. Can’t eat. Just lying on my shitty twin bed in my shitty East Village apartment staring at the ceiling trying to figure out if I’ve completely lost my mind.
Marry Brian Valente. The man who might have ordered my sister’s death.
Except he says he didn’t. Says it was Vincent. Says he’s been investigating too.
And I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts.
But wanting something doesn’t make it true.
My phone’s been buzzing all morning. Eight missed calls from Isabella. Twelve texts. I ignore them all.
Can’t tell her about this. Can’t tell anyoné. Brian made that clear.
The apartment’s quiet. My roommate’s at her boyfriend’s place. Thank god. I don’t have to explain why I came home at four AM smelling like expensive cologne and s*x.
I take a shower. Scrub my skin until it’s red. Trying to wash him off me. It doesn’t work. I can still feel his hands. His mouth. The way he looked at me when he came, like I was the only person in the world.
Fuck.
I’m falling for him. I’ve been falling for him since the first night. That’s the real problem. Not the contract. Not marriage. The fact that somewhere between planning his destruction and f*****g him on every available surface, I started to care.
And caring makes you weak. Makes you stupid. Gets you killed.
Like Sarah.
I need to think. Need to breathe. Need—
Someone knocks on my door.
I freeze.
“Maria? I know you’re there.”
Vincent’s voice. Smooth. Charming. Absolutely terrifying.
How does he know where I live?
Another knock. Harder. “Open up. We need to talk.”
My heart’s trying to punch through my ribs. I grab my phone. Text Brian:
Vincent’s at my apartment.
Three dots appear immediately. Then:
Don’t open the door. I’m coming.
“Maria.” Vincent's tone shifts. Harder. “I’m getting impatient. And you don’t want to see me impatient.”
Fuck it. I open the door.
He’s standing there in a tailored suit, looking like he stepped out of GQ. Handsome. Charming smile. Dead eyes.
“There she is.” He pushes past me without invitation. “Nice place. Very… student.”
I don’t close the door. Keep it open. Escape route.
He notices. “Smart girl. Keeping your options open.” He walks around my tiny living room. Picks up a photo of me and Sarah at her nursing school graduation. Study it. “She was pretty. Your sister.”
Everything in me goes cold.
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk about my little brother.” He sets the photo down. “He seems quite taken with you. Called off his Atlantic City trip early last night. Rushed home. I wonder why.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” He moves closer. I forced myself not to back away, “because security footage shows you breaking into his apartment at two AM. It shows you opening his safe. Shows you finding… things.”
Oh god.
“And then,” Vincent continues, “shows you and Brian f*****g on his desk like animals.” He smiles. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You’re more flexible than you look.”
My face burns. “Get out.”
“Not yet.” He’s right in front of me now. “See, I did some research. Maria Santos. Pre-med. NYU. Full scholarship. Very impressive.” He brushes my hair behind my ear. I flinch, “was Sarah Santos’s little sister. Even more impressive.”
“You killed her.”
“I did,” he says casually. Like admitting he had coffee this morning. “She saw something she shouldn’t have. I couldn’t let her talk. Messy business. But necessary.”
Rage floods through me. White-hot. Blinding. “You son of a—”
He grabs my throat. Slams me against the wall. I can’t breathe. Can’t move.
“Let me make something very clear,” he says softly. “Brian might think he’s clever. Might think he could use you to get to me. But you’re just a girl. A civilian. And you’re in way over your head.”
Spots dance in my vision. I claw at his hand. He doesn't let go.
“Your father owes me money. Half a million dollars. Gambling debts. I was planning to kill him. Nice and clean. But then Bria came to me with a proposal.” He leans closer. “He wants to marry you. Use yours to access our grandmother’s trust fund. I said fine. Let him have his little gold-digger.”
He releases me. I collapse. Gasping. Choking.
“But here’s the thing.” He crouches down to my level. “If you marry Brian, you belong to this family. Which means you belong to me. And I don’t share well.”
“Brian will—”
“Brian, will what?” Vincent laughs. “Protect you? Kill me? He’s my brother. He won’t do shit.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know him better than you do, sweetheart. We grew up in the same house. I taught him everything. And I can promise you this—when it comes down to it, he’ll choose family. He always does.”
He stands. Straightens his suit. Smiles like we just had a pleasant conversation.
“You have until midnight to decide. Marry Brian and get your father’s debts erased. Or refuse and watch him die.” He heads for the door. Pauses. “Oh, and Maria? If you tell Brian about this visit, I’ll know. And I’ll kill your mother too. Slow. Painful. While you watch.”
He leaves.
I sat on the floor. Shaking. Crying. Bleeding where he scraped my throat with his watch.
My phone buzzes. Brian calling.
I answer. “He was here.”
“I know. I’m five minutes away. Are you hurt?”
“I’m—” My voice cracks. “He killed her. He admitted it. He killed Sarah, and he doesn’t care, and he’s going to kill my dad if I don’t—”
“Maria. Listen to me. Lock your door. Don’t let anyone in until I get there. Do you understand?”
“He knows. About the break-in. About the safe. He has security footage.”
“Fuck.” Silence. Then: “Okay. Okay. We’ll handle it. Just stay inside.”
“Brian—”
“What?”
“He said he'd kill my mom if I told you about his visit. He said he’ll know.”
“He’s bluffing.”
“Is he?”
More silence. Then, quietly: “No. Probably not.”
My apartment door crashes open. Brian bursts in. Gun drawn. Marco behind him. They sweep the apartment. Clear. Empty.
Brian holsters his gun. Comes to me. Lifts me off the floor like I weigh nothing.
“Let me see.” He tilts my chin up. Studying the marks on my throat. His jaw tightens. “I’m going to kill him.”
“You can’t. He’s your brother.”
“I don’t care.”
Marco’s on the phone. Speaking rapid Italian. Calling in favors. Arranging protection.
Brian carries me to my bed. Sets me down gently. Sit’s beside me. His hands are shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so f**king sorry. I should have anticipated this. Should have had people watching you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is.” He looks at me. Real fear in his eyes. “Vincent’s escalating. He’s not playing games anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to accelerate the timeline.” He takes my hand. “We need to get married. Today.”
“Today?”
“Now. This afternoon. I’ll move you into my place immediately. Full security. Protection. Vincent won’t be able to touch you.”
“But—”
“There’s no but, Maria. You’re in danger. Your family’s in danger. The only way to keep you all alive is if you’re officially mine. If you’re a Valente,” he squeezes my hand. “So I’m asking again. Will you marry me?”
I look at him. Really look at him. This dangerous man with his expensive suits and his private war. This man who’s killed people. Who runs criminal empires? Who f***s me like he hates me and looks at me like I’m everything.
I should say no. Should run. Should disappear.
Instead, I say, “Okay.”
His eyes widen. “Okay?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you.” I swallow hard. “But I have conditions.”
An small smile. “Of course you do.”
“I want protection for my mom. Full-time security. Someone who actually gives a s**t if she lives or dies.”
“Done.”
“I want access to everything. Your files. Your investigation. All of it.”
“Done.”
“And I want Vincent.” I met his eyes. “When this is over. When we have proof. I get to be there. I get to watch him pay for what he did.”
Brian’s expression darkens. “Maria—”
“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”
He has studied me for a long time. Then they nods. “Okay. But when the time comes, you let me handle it. Vincent’s dangerous. Unpredictable. I won’t risk you getting hurt.”
“Deal.”
He stands. Pulls me up. “We need to go. City hall closes at five.”
“Wait. Now? Actually now?”
“You said yes. I’m not giving you time to change your mind.”
Marco’s already by the door. “Car’s ready. I called ahead. The judge is waiting.”
This is happening. This is actually happening.
I grab my jacket. My phone. Look around my shitty apartment one last time.
“Any second thoughts?” Brian asks.
“Too many to count.”
“But?”
“But I don’t have a choice. Do I?”
“You always have a choice.” He touches my face. Gentle. “You could run. Disappear. I’d give you money. New identity. You could start over somewhere safe.”
“And Sarah?”
“Would stay dead. Vincent would stay free. But you’d be alive.”
I think about it. Really think about it. A new life. New name. Safe. Normal.
Boring.
“No,” I say. “I’m not running. I’m finishing this.”
“That’s my girl.” He kisses me. Hard. Possessive. “Let’s go get married.”
- Writer
