Page 7 of The Marriage Contract

“I mean it.” She takes a step back, glancing at the door. “It’s fine.”

I turn to find Dario filling the entire doorframe, his sleek, expensive suit highlighting his build. He stares at me, saying nothing, but the message is clear. He wants to talk. I join him in the hallway under a giant painting of a tree. It’s stunning, almost photorealistic.

“What was that about?” he asks.

“I had to apologize. I was horrible to her.”

“She’s used to it. She’s been serving assholes all her life.”

“So that makes it okay, does it?” I say.

“No,” he grunts, “but it’s how it is. It’s the way this world is. When certain people are born poor and become rich, they treat poor people like crap because they remind them of who they used to be. When people are born rich, they don’t think of being friendly to the staff. It wouldn’t even occur to them.”

“What about people who are born poor and are still poor?”

He takes a step forward, almost brushing right up against me. As far as I can tell, he’s not wearing cologne, but he has a scent. It’s manly, musky. Is that the word? Something flutters inside me. My heart beats a little faster.

“That’s not who you are,” he says huskily. “You were born rich, suffered a tragedy, and now you’re here.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t have apologized?”

“No,” he replies. “You’re right. Clara doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

“So, why are you chewing me out?”

His eyes snap open wide at my choice of words. Maybe it’s too casual. Or perhaps it brings too much intimacy to mind, even if the phrasing is crude. “Maybe I feel like a jackass because it took a poor actress to apologize where I should’ve.” He turns. “I’ve got to go to work.”

“Mafia business?” I say.

He turns back to me, eyebrow raised. “Is there something you want to say to me?” Suddenly, it’s like I see the mob version of him. His eyes burn into me. His tone has become dark, even breathier. “If you’ve got a problem with this life, say it now.”

“Or forever hold my peace?”

I don’t know what instinct possesses me to sass him, but it’s like I can’t stop.

“Very funny,” he grunts, “but my money’s good enough for you.”

“I’d take money from the devil if it meant getting Aunt Rosa the care she needs. She needs pain meds. She needs rehab. She needs therapy. She needs more than I could ever give her alone.”

“That’s where I’m going, Elena … to earn money. So maybe take that judgment out of your tone.”

“It’s difficult.”

“Just pretend you don’t find my work completely sickening,” he growls. “Maybe, when you’re older?—”

“Comeon. Don’t make this about age. I’m twenty-two. That’s plenty old enough to have an opinion.”

“Yes, and I’m thirty-seven, and I still don’t know …” He grits his teeth as if he’s about to overshare and has just stopped himself. “You can judge if you want. Luckily, this is a business deal and nothing else, right?”

I nod.“Right.”

When he leaves, I feel oddly hollow. I almost want to call him to come back and tell him I’m sorry. Sometimes, my mouth can get me into trouble. I didn’t mean to go at him like that, but it felt like a challenge when he stared me down.

CHAPTER FOUR

DARIO

Paolo drives with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. His fingers drum on the steering wheel as if he can’t wait to light up, his calculating eyes always hinting that he’s working something out. Allessio sits next to him, and I take the back seat.

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