Chapter 151

“Go back to bed, Iris!” Nico growls in the dark hallway.

I shriek, jumping almost out of my skin and nearly dropping the small tray of food and supplies that I’m carrying to my bedroom. Or at least, my old bedroom – it’s where we’re keeping the captive now.

“Nico!” I snap, pissed off at him. “You didn’t have to scare me –“

“Well, something has to scare you!” He protests, coming forward from the dark of his own room to glare at me. “You cannot go into that room alone with your enemy! He’s a dangerous man –“

“Oh, he’s all locked up,” I murmur, ignoring Nico and shouldering my way through the door.

The captive is already looking at the door when we enter, because of course he heard me shriek. He looks warily between us from his spot in my desk chair, his legs duct taped to the wooden legs and his arms strapped to the back of the chair.

“Sorry,” I say, giving Calvin a little grimace as I look down at the tray. “This was all a lot nicer a few minutes ago before Nico made me spill it.”

“Iris,” Nico groans between his teeth, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me back – but his grip is light and I pull out of it.

“This is happening, Nico!” I say, turning my head to glare at him over his shoulder. “And you don’t boss me around anymore!”

Nico’s mouth falls open as he stares at me and realizes that…I’m kind of right. Then he scowls.

“If you don’t like it,” I continue, turning back to the captive and moving forward to put the tray on the bed, “go wake up Christian and make him come and stop me! Because he’s the only one I’m going to listen to!”

“Iris, I am not bluffing,” Nico growls, arms crossed. “I will go wake up Christian.”

“Off you go, then!” I say, waving my hand at him and shooing him off like he’s nothing more than an annoying little hen. “Bye bye!”

Nico narrows his eyes and then storms out of the room, heading to the right towards the living room and the master suite beyond.

“Sorry about him,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking Calvin in the eyes. He just stares at me, not really knowing what to do. “He’s…perpetually in a bad mood. How are you, are you comfortable?”

Calvin stares at me for another second before his face slowly breaks into a smile and he shakes his head a little. “I’m sure I’m as comfortable as I can be, donna, for a man duct taped to a chair.”

I sigh, and nod, truly understanding. Because I’ve literally been in his place.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, gesturing towards the tray of food, which includes mostly cold things but also a bottle of water and a big, big glass of whiskey.

He eyes the glass, and I can see that he really, really wants it. But he hesitates, not knowing what to do or say.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I didn’t…poison it or anything. Um…” I reach for my little tablet too, on the edge of the tray, flipping it open. “I can also put on some TV for you, maybe a season of a show? So that you don’t have to sit here in the dark alone with your thoughts.”

Calvin stares at the tablet and then raises his eyes to me. “Why are you doing all of this?”

I take a deep breath and drop my eyes to my lap for a second before looking back up at him. “Were you aware? When I was in Bonetti’s house, in his basement?”

Calvin hesitates for a second but then nods. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t know…precisely what was happening. But I knew you were there, and I know what he…does.”

He doesn’t apologize and I don’t ask him to. But we look at each other evenly.

“Well, I don’t want to be like that,” I say quiet softly. “I don’t…don’t want to be in a family that works that way. You’re just our captive, right? And I get that we have to keep you…captive…” I frown at myself, disappointed by my lack of eloquence. “But that doesn’t mean that we have to be mean to you or torture you.”

The little smile finds his face again. “You may be too tender-hearted for this world, donna. But I can only hope that this world never teaches you that lesson, and I’ll reap the benefits of it while I can. Yes, I’m very hungry, I’m very thirsty, and I would very much like to drink that glass of whiskey and watch some TV instead of sitting alone for the next couple of hours.”

I burst into a grin and pull a little paring knife out of my pocket, moving forward towards the bounds on his left arm. I hesitate before I begin to cut the duct tape. “You realize,” I say quietly, “that if you hurt me at all or do anything creepy that two of the three men in this house will kill you for it?”

He bursts out laughing and nods, agreeing. “I promise, donna. Sincerely. For tonight we can have a ceasefire – you’re safe with me.”

I grin, and nod, and lower the knife to his arm.

“Iris,” Christian’s voice says from the door, more curious than angry. “Please tell me you’re about to stab him with that.”

I gasp and stand up straight, spinning to see my husband leaning casually in the doorway with Nico scowling behind him.

“Nico!” I cry, putting my fists on my hips and glaring at him. “I can’t believe you actually woke him! Christian needs to sleep!”

“So do I, Iris,” Nico says, leaning forward to glare right back. “But someone has to keep an eye out for sentimental idiots walking around the house with room service.”

I scowl and narrow my eyes at him for a second before turning my attention to Christian, who is the true decision-maker here.

To my pleasure, I see that he’s not angry – or at least, not very. “What’s your plan here, little wife?” he says quietly, raising his chin towards the paring knife in my hand.

“Well, I figured,” I say, rolling my eyes, “that I would just sit with him for a minute! And I could just cut free his left hand for a minute so he could eat – because he’s probably right handed and can’t do much with his left! And even if he did that I would just scream and run! Honestly, it’s very safe, Chris, I gave it a lot of thought.”

“Are you right handed?” Christian asks, raising an eyebrow at our captive.

“I am,” he says, giving a serious nod.

“And would you be able to grab a knife out of a naïve woman’s hand with your left the moment she cut it free?”

Calvin smirks. “I would be able to do that,” he says, making me stand straight and gasp. “But in this case, I would not. Even if I did kill her, I wouldn’t make it out of the apartment alive, and I’d ruin my cousin’s political position. Besides,” he says, moving his eyes to the tray. “That glass of whiskey sounds far better than murdering someone right now.”

“Seeee?” I say, drawing a hand through the air like it’s obvious and ignoring the hole in my plan that could have got me killed.

Christian laughs, I think a little tickled by me, and then nods. “Go ahead, then, Iris, feed your pet.”