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The Contract

ROMANY

The inside of DeMarco's home was just as one might imagine it to be. Lavishly furnished, marble floors. Chandeliers in every corner of the sitting room. Three sets of double doors lined the back wall, opening onto a large well-lit patio. A tri-level swimming pool complete with jacuzzi waterfall pulsed near the bottom of the steps just behind the patio. The lights in the pool blazed different colors, making the water sparkle and dance.

Ruby waited in the center of the room, sipping whiskey from a glass she must have taken from the bar she was leaning against. "Bout time you folks got here."

"Help yourself," DeMarco teased, gesturing for me to have a seat.

"Don't I always," she said, taking her place next to me on a long velveteen sofa.

"That you do, Ru. That you do."

Ruby's eyes sparkled my way. "Did you two get better acquainted?"

I sent her a sharp look, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. It's not that kind of party, Ruby.

"As much as need be," DeMarco answered for me. "Now that you've seen your cousin safely settled, you can leave. You have flight to catch, don't you?"

Ruby nodded, downing her drink before standing up.

"Wait!" I yelped. "You're leaving?"

She smirked, her mouth falling open ungraciously. "I don't live here, Ro. You do."

"B-but I thought you might stay a little longer! I'm not really that comfortable yet! I-"

"Ruby has a job to do Miss Dubois. A job she has been devoted to for quite some time. She knows her place," DeMarco warned, his green eyes crackling with ice.

"I haven't signed your contract yet," I spat through clenched teeth. "I still might not agree to work for you."

He laughed, some of the chill from his gaze melting. "Oh, I'm pretty sure that you will."

"Listen to me, Ro," Ruby said, taking my hands in hers. "This is the best thing for you. Trust me."

Trust you? Trrrruuuusssttt you? I forced my apprehension into the blaze of my eyes as we stared at one another, hoping she might take pity on me and just stay a little longer. "Ruby..."

She cocked her head at me, her eyes shuttering. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow. I'll come directly here. I won't even go home."

"You will not," DeMaro said.

She threw him a sharp look. "I will."

He snorted. "Really?"

She nodded solemnly, hiking up an eyebrow challengingly. "Bet."

He frowned, crossing his muscular arms over his wide, sculpted chest. "Don't fuck this up, Ruby. Make sure the job is done right."

She smiled, her face transforming into a mask of defiant laughter. "Oh, it'll be right. Don't you worry about that."

"Go then," he said. "I guess we'll see you the day after tomorrow."

"Wait"-I started, shaking my head-"what kind of job are you going to do? What-"

My cousin slapped her hand over my mouth, shutting me up. "Don't waste your time worrying about me, Ro. I know what I'm doing. Just concentrate on getting adjusted."

I swallowed thickly, nibbling on my lip nervously. "Okay."

She leaned forward, grabbing me in a tight hug. The kind of hug she used to give me when were kids. For a moment, I allowed myself to pretend that we were and that she was here to protect me the way she always was in the past. She pressed her lips to my ear and said, "I won't let anyone hurt you. No one. Not even him." She stepped back, releasing me to send DeMarco a pointed look before her eyes fell back on mine. "Understand?"

I gulped, noting that DeMarco was no longer paying attention to us. Instead he was at the bar pouring himself a drink. "Yes," I said meeting her gaze.

"Good," she replied. "I'll see you soon. Sleep well, okay?"

"Okay," I said, watching her leave.

A moment later, I was still seated on the couch and I heard Giselle rumble to life as Ruby sped away.

"Follow me," DeMarco said. "I have a contract for you to sign."

A few minutes later, seated in his dimly lit office I was boiling with rage. "Confined to the grounds?!?" I hissed, reading over the first of the ridiculous rules. "What does that mean exactly?"

He chuckled, shrugging out of his blazer to drape it over the back of his chair as he sat. The crisp white shirt he wore underneath, melded with his muscles, outlining every curve, every groove, every punch of sinew and flesh that God had seen fit to bless him with. This was a man that probably woke up in the morning, swallowed a half dozen eggs, then lifted tall buildings for sport. The corded shift of each of his movements was distracting. I was supposed to be reading the contract he handed me, but I was having a very hard time keeping my eyes in their sockets. He could smash Matthew with just a flick of his wrist.

"It means what it says. As a member of this household, you will remain here. Under guard. Anything and everything that you need will be provided to you."

"Provided to me," I repeated, my gaze following the path of his fingers as he loosened the top three buttons of his shirt.

"That's what I said. Yes,"

"Uh-huh. So I'm basically stuck here."

His jaw clenched. "That's right."

"For how long?"

He sighed, "The contract is for a year."

"A year?" I nearly shouted. "I can't stay locked away for a year! I'll go nuts."

"You will have total access to all amenities that my estate has to offer in the meantime. The pool, spa, sauna, tennis courts-"

"Tennis courts?"

He nods, "There's even a theatre for my private use on the third floor. You may even have access to that. There's a library-"

"A library?" I perked up. "How big is it?"

"I wasn't done talking," he snapped.

"Oh!" A riot of blood surged forward, reddening my cheeks to a nearly painful degree. "S-sorry."

He groaned, rubbing his temple as he studied me. "You will be given a suite of rooms down the hall from my own on the third floor. All to yourself."

"A suite of rooms," I repeated stupidly. What exactly does that mean? One room? Two?

"Yes. A bedroom, private bathroom, and sitting room."

"So basically, a small apartment."

He chuckled, "Uh-yes. Minus the kitchen."

Noice... "Okay."

His eyebrows shot upward. "Okay?"

"That sounds alright I guess. How often will I see Ruby?"

He narrowed his gaze. "Ruby doesn't live here."

Right. Okay then.

"Do you have a pen?"

He grinned, his bright green gaze glinting in the light of the desk lamp. "Don't you think you ought to read the rest of the contract first? There are quite a few non-negotiables in there. One of them being that you are never - under any circumstances, no matter how dire they might be - are you ever allowed to speak to anyone - and I mean absolutely no one, not even yourself - about the work I have you do here. You may not even pray about it."

My body seizes. "W-why not? Ruby said I was going to be your maid. Why would me talking about what I do for you matter?"

He chuckled, his eyes going dark as he leaned forward and fixed me with a glare. "Like I said before... you will not be a regular maid. You will be tending to me and me alone. That means as my personal servant, you will be present during certain... meetings. Meetings that are always held behind closed doors and are never to be spoken of. Not ever. During these... meetings, you might hear things, see things, clean things that you're not altogether comfortable with. But - you will do it, and you will keep your mouth shut, your eyes lowered, and my associates... comfortable. You will refresh their drinks, clear their dishes, clean their messes, but that is all. There will no speaking to them during these meetings, not ever. If they ask you a question? You will ignore them. You will not smile, you will not nod. The only person you are permitted to interact with during those meetings will be me. If you can do it and do it well, you will be paid ten thousand dollars every two weeks."

My heart stopped. "I-I'm sorry? Did you say ten thousand every two weeks? Or every two-"

"You heard me correctly. Every two weeks," he smirked, obviously enjoying my shock. "Now... would you still like that pen?"

I forced my neck to work, nodding like a wooden puppet. "Y-yes. Please."

He nodded, a faint smile playing over his lips as he reached into his desk to retrieve a pen. "There's one more very important detail."

"What's that?" I asked absently, scribbling my Jane Hancock on the dotted line.

"Don't fuck the bosses."

What?

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