Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

LUCILLE

Sitting in the chair beside Emmie, I try to calm my nerves. I need to be relaxed about this. I need to be cool. She doesn’t know that I know who she is, and I want to keep it that way. If I act weird, then she’s going to know something is off.

Smiling, I turn my head and look over to her. She ignores me, which is about right. That’s who she is. A bitch to anyone who can’t do anything for her, and I’m encroaching on her attention.

“So, tell me about this new guy,” the stylist urges as she continues to put dye on her hair, then wrap it up in foils.

I look down at my phone, pretending not to be listening to the conversation because I am dying to hear how she describes Theron and their relationship. Especially after this morning and him essentially rejecting her and asserting his control over the situation.

“He is amazing. He absolutely adores me, too,” she coos.

The stylist hums. “My god, I remember when my husband adored me. It’s been a while,” she says with a chuckle.

“He is completely obsessed with me,” Emmie purrs. “He is so successful. He owns a security firm. They do security systems for the elite. They’re a boutique company. It’s so amazing.”

I almost snort. Elite . Sure, they do security for the rich and famous, but they also do it for regular people.

Securus is for everyone, no matter their financial status. At least, that’s what it’s always been.

They just want people to feel safe. I know it comes from the trauma they all endured. I don’t know the specifics of it, but I do know that it was bad, nightmares-every-night-of-the-week bad.

“Wow,” the stylist exhales. “That sounds really fancy.”

“It is,” Emmie says with a little bounce in her seat.

I almost roll my eyes to go along with my almost snort but decide against it. I don’t want her to realize I’m listening and stop talking. Scrolling through my new fake social media account, I add friends, like, and comment here and there randomly as I listen to Emmie gush about Theron.

My Theron.

When it’s my turn to get my hair done, Emmie sits processing in her foils, but she doesn’t stay quiet. She continues to gush about Theron, but she’s pulling at strings because she doesn’t know much about him.

“And the sex,” she announces. “He’s the best I’ve ever had. The things he can do with his mouth are out of this world.”

Again, I almost laugh because the last time I watched them together, she was the one using her mouth… a lot. The stylist giggles and places her hand on Emmie’s shoulder.

“You better keep that one. He sounds like he’s one of a kind.”

I’m not sure if she believes Emmie or not, but the next thing Emmie says makes my heart stop beating. “I’m going to keep him. No matter the cost. That man is never getting rid of me.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shift in my seat and hate myself for what I’m going to say next. Inhaling through my nose, I let it out of my mouth slowly, then turn my head and look over to Emmie, who is staring at her reflection as if it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. She makes me want to gag.

“You’re so lucky,” I say.

This is someone who needs her ego boosted, even though she thinks more of herself than anyone else possibly could.

Her gaze flicks to mine in the reflection of the mirror, and she smiles. “Thanks. Theron is just perfect for me. I’m keeping him.”

God. I want to slap the shit out of her.

“Does he have any brothers?” I laugh. “Every guy I’ve been dating lately has been a dud.”

Emmie smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and she doesn’t answer the brother thing. She pretends like she didn’t even hear me. I know she did. She’s just being the bitch she is.

The stylist comments next and says something about wishing her man was obsessed with her or something. Then she adds a little comment about how she’s glad that she’s not dating anymore. I couldn’t care less. I’m not dating either.

Theron is going to be mine again.

Everything is going to be the way it’s meant to be— soon .

So soon that I can practically taste it—practically taste him .

THERON

“Okay. So, you fucked the daughter. What does that have to do with the contract?” I ask.

Merrick shifts in his seat and then lets out a heavy sigh. “I just don’t want there to be any issues.”

“What issues, Merrick? You are being evasive, and I think I deserve to have a little bit more from you than this. No?”

Merrick stands and turns. I watch as he walks over to the bookcase and stands with his back to me. He rocks back on his heels, exhaling a long breath before he turns to face me.

He presses his lips together, and I watch as his nostrils flare. Whatever the fuck this is, he’s serious about it. I have no damn clue what the hell is going on with him, but there is something he does not want to tell me, which makes me want to know even more.

“I didn’t just fuck her,” he murmurs.

“Merrick,” I snap.

My control has slipped… it’s completely fucking gone. Standing, I slam my palm against the desk. He doesn’t even flinch, which doesn’t bode well. He is deep in his thoughts, deep in whatever the fuck he’s got going on inside of his head.

“I married her.”

Instantly, I choke on the spit in my mouth. I ball my fingers into a fist and slam it against the center of my chest in an effort to catch my breath. Clearing my throat a few times, I shake my head.

“Are you fucking with me?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t my choice,” he rasps.

Dipping my chin slightly, I gaze into his eyes, then tilt my head to the side and wait for him to continue with the story. When he does, I find myself in disbelief. I don’t know when this shit happened, but I can’t believe he kept it from all of us.

“Last month, when I went down there, I talked to her father. He wanted the full workup and more. He wanted thumb and palm print entrances… to every single room in the house. He wanted cameras in every room, too. I didn’t understand why. He’s Mafia ,” he murmurs.

Fuck.

“So, you’re seriously standing here telling me that you married some Mafia member’s daughter because you got caught fucking said daughter when you were supposed to be bidding for a job?”

He shifts his gaze to the side, then brings it back to meet mine. “That’s exactly what it is.”

“So, what you’re really telling me is that you want me to send this contract free of charge?”

He nods his head once. “I’ll pay the bill. The whole fucking thing. I can’t ask the business to cover my fuckup.”

Shaking my head, I clear my throat. I’m not sure how to answer this. I should be asking the other partners how they feel about it, but I can tell he doesn’t want to admit he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and now he’s paying the price—for life.

“All of this seems like it escalated quickly. He’s really so upset that you fucked his daughter that he forced your hand into marriage? I don’t buy it.”

He shrugs a shoulder, but I have a feeling there is more to this story, and he’s not telling me. I don’t continue to question him over it. This only affects our business slightly, at least for now. It’s more of a personal issue for him than anything.

“We’ll have a meeting. Everyone should know what happened. When are you bringing her here?”

He spins around and starts pacing. I watch him, waiting for him to give me an answer. I really feel like he’s making a much bigger deal about this shit than he probably needs to.

“I fucking hate that this is how it happened. I don’t even know her. How could I have let this shit happen? This could fuck up our entire business.”

Moving around my desk, I make my way over to him and stop in front of him. I wrap my fingers around his shoulder, shaking him in one firm move.

“You didn’t do shit,” I say. “Not when it comes to the company.”

“He’s going to take and take from me. I have a feeling that this is the biggest mistake of my life. He is not going to just let this shit go. He’s going to want things from us, Theron. I won’t give them to him, and he’s going to kill me.”

I shake him again, then my hand drops from his shoulder.

“No,” I snap. “I fucking refuse to believe that we lived through all of this shit we did as teenagers just to die like that. I won’t let anyone touch you, Merrick. Not a single one of us would. We made a vow to each other when we left that hellhole that we would never, not ever , let any one of us be vulnerable again.”

Merrick snorts before he speaks. “Well, I already fucked that up. I put myself in a vulnerable position, and I fucking folded.”

“You didn’t fold,” I argue. “You protected yourself. And if you’re being honest with yourself, you protected her as well. You did nothing wrong.”

He grabs a fistful of my shirt before he tugs me forward. “I don’t know her,” he growls.

Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I squeeze him until he releases my shirt and his hand falls to his side. His gaze slides to the side, then shifts to meet mine again. My lips curve up into a grin. There is no reason to be pissed off at him about this.

“What’s meant to be is always going to be. She’s your wife now. Bring her here. Whatever happens after that, we’ll battle together. I’m sure all of us will need a favor throughout our lives at one time or another. I’m good with this being yours. We’ll do the job for free. That will be all he gets from you.”

Merrick shakes his head a couple of times, but he knows there’s no arguing with me. He also knows that we all have his back.

Always.

Until the fucking day we die.