Chapter 25

“You,” Frankie says tiredly, pointing at me as he closes the door behind him, “are not allowed to ask anything about this. You got that? Also, you never, ever saw it. I was here all night.”

I put my hands up, letting him know that I agree to these terms.

“Good,” Frankie murmurs, and he sighs with relief. “I’m going to bed,” he says, kicking off his shoes and heading down the hall.

“The hell you are!” Nico calls after him. “You’re on babysitting duty with me!”

“What!?” Frankie shouts, turning in disbelief. “She doesn’t need two of us to watch her –“

“Boss’s orders,” Nico says, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Take it up with him.”

I scowl along with Frankie, hating that Christian is making both of his bodyguards miserable for the sake of keeping me safe or whatever, even though I have no plans to run anywhere and I’m pretty sure that I’m safe in this high-rise penthouse.

Frankie just groans, mumbling something about taking a shower first, and then he stomps back towards his bedroom. I turn to Nico.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Step three,” Nico says, turning his head to me. “Fucking sit around for hours, doing nothing.”

I groan, as miserable as he is about it. There is nothing, nothing that drives me crazier than just…sitting around.

“Do whatever you want, Nico,” I sigh, getting up and polishing off my coffee. “I’m going to make myself useful.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replies, heading for the living room and his abandoned newspaper.

I clean the kitchen in silence until Frankie comes out of his room, dragging his feet but looking much cleaner and brighter than he was. He turns on the tv when he, too, flops on the couch, which incites an argument with Nico, who is still trying to read. But, to my surprise, Frankie wins and the tv stays on.

I listen passively to Judge Judy as I polish the kitchen to a brand-new shine and then pour myself a new cup of coffee, heading into the living room with it.

When I get there, though, I stop dead in my tracks because…

Well, because there’s blood all over the carpet from last night!

“Oh my god,” I say, staring at it.

“What?” Frankie says, instantly alert, thinking I’m reacting to some kind of threat.

“How can you just sit here?” I ask, appalled and gesturing towards the floor, “when there’s blood everywhere?”

“Hmm?” Frankie asks, and then he leans forward, looking curiously at the floor. “Oh, well, would you look at that.”

I squeak, unable to form words at my horror.

Frankie looks up at me, laughing a little. “I mean, you just get used to it, Iris. It will be gone in a few days when the cleaning people come back.”

“Christian cancelled the cleaning service,” Nico reminds Frankie, not taking his eyes from his paper.

“Oh, well,” Nico murmurs consideringly. “Then I guess…”

I groan, putting my coffee down on the table and stomping back towards the kitchen.

“No, Iris, that’s not your job!” Frankie calls, I think feeling genuinely guilty when he sees me crouch down by the cabinets below the sink, seeking cleaning supplies.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to sit around in a blood-stained living room, Frank!” I call, still a little pissed.

Frankie mumbles something sad in reply, coming to stand next to me in the kitchen, fidgeting a little like he doesn’t know what to do. “Can I help you?”

I look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you know how to clean?”

He hesitates, but then shakes his head.

I laugh, a dark, ironic sound. “Mafia boys. Probably know a hundred ways to kill someone, but need a woman to get the blood stains out of the carpet.” I stand up with a sigh, plunking some cleaning supplies onto the counter and lifting a bucket into the sink, filling it with hot water.

Frankie, to his credit, looks a little ashamed. And, despite the horrible things I saw him do last night, I can’t help smiling at him. “Go sit down, boy,” I sigh, nodding towards the couch. “Watch tv, close your eyes, take a nap. I’m not running anywhere.”

“I really will marry you, Iris,” Frankie says, his face bursting into a grin. “You’re the best.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I laugh, following him into the living room well-armed for the mess before me.

The blood stain takes a good long time to clean, especially considering that the carpet is a light nondescript beige and the blood dried overnight. But after a great deal of elbow grease and the right concoction of chemicals, it comes right in the end.

I sit back, finally, smiling at the job well done.

“I admit, I’m impressed,” Nico says, and I look up at him in surprise. “Most strippers I know are content to let others do all the hard work.”

“Nico,” I sigh, shaking my head at him, “I sincerely doubt any strippers give you any real insight into their lives, especially after you run out of money.”

Frankie laughs at me, glancing at Nico, before nudging me with his foot and holding out his phone. “What do you want for lunch?”

I take the phone, seeing a takeout ordering service on the screen. “Do you two ever cook?”

“No,” Frankie says instantly, not sounding at all ashamed of it. “My expertise is in the eating, not the preparation.” I turn my eyes to Nico, who just shrugs, confirming that he, too, is basically useless in the house.

Seeing that that’s the end of the conversation, I just sigh, ordering myself a Caesar salad and climbing onto the couch next to Frankie, who pulls a throw blanket off the back and passively hands it to me.

The afternoon passes sluggishly and I find myself miserable, bored out of my mind with nothing to do but watch television as the light fades from the sky. I take a long shower and get dressed, doing my hair and putting on a little makeup to feel more like myself – but honestly, it’s all just passing time. A quick glance towards Nico and Frankie when I come back into the living room suggests that they feel precisely the same, even though Frankie had the grace to nap most of the day. When the door clicks open several hours later, we all turn towards it like dogs excited for the master’s return.

And though I hate the fact that the three of us have just been waiting around all day at Christian’s beck and call…a little thrill goes through me when I see him come through the door.

Christian quietly presses the door shut behind him, slipping a hand into his suit pocket as he looks around at the three of us. And then, to my shock, he just turns away, walking casually towards his room without so much as a hello.

My jaw drops and I completely lose my powers of speech for a second as my eyes follow him, and then I dart my glance to Nico and Frankie, who likewise look pissed.

But unlike them, I am not taking this silently.

“Absolutely not!” I shout at Christian’s retreating back as he disappears into his room, jumping to my feet.

The door is already closing as I stride towards it, but I slam my palm against the wood before it has a chance to click shut. There’s a little resistance on the other side, but I push hard and it moves open. I step, for the first time, into Christian’s master suite and don’t even look around, choosing to glare up into his face instead.

“Are you kidding me?” I hiss, my eyes narrowed. “You go away all day, leaving the three of us just sitting here with nothing to do, and we don’t even get a hello when you come home!?”

“I am none of your husbands, Iris,” Christian snarls, stepping close to loom over me again. I step back, crossing my arms, not letting him do that. “I am running a business here – they are my employees, and you are my –“

“Your captive?” I remind him, raising an eyebrow. “How does that fit into your business plan, Christian?”

“Poorly,” he growls, turning away from me but not insisting that I leave. So, I follow him into the room, still mad.

“I can’t live like this, Christian,” I say, shaking my head and pointing back towards the living room. “I will die if you leave me pent up –“

“Oh, you poor thing,” Christian snaps, turning to glare at me again as he shrugs off his suit jacket and starts at the clasp of his watch. “Having to sit all day in a luxury penthouse with nothing to do but relax and order food and watch tv! That’s some people’s dream life, Iris –“

“Not mine!” I shout, throwing my hands up in my hair. “You know me better than this, Christian! I am going to go absolutely insane living like this, especially if this is going to last for months, like you said!”

“What would you prefer,” Christian purrs, though it is more the dangerous noise of a jaguar than the contented sound of a housecat, “that I send you back to that strip club, so that you have a job? Something to do? Shaking your tits for disgusting old men – is that what you’d prefer over safety and luxury, Iris? What kind of woman are you, if that’s where you’d rather be?”

I step back, shocked at his words.

Because of all of the changes Christian has made so far…

He’s never, ever been cruel to me.

Until now.