Page 42 of Ruthless Intent

I take the one I brought with me out of my pocket, and place it in her palm. She uncaps it, then looks at me.

“I don’t recommend trying to stab me with it. There are too many witnesses.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you. If you try, I don’t care what the consequences will be, it’s not happening.” Her voice is fierce.

“Trust me, that’s the one thing I don’t want from you.”

I watch as she presses the pen on the dotted line, and force myself to keep my face free of any reaction. Once she’s signed and dated it, I allow myself to smile.

“Well done. Eat your food.”

“I’m not hungry. If I eat it, I’ll be sick”

“Throw it up later. I don’t give a fuck. Eat what’s on your plate. The terms of your contract start now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ASHLEY

I push the mushrooms around my plate, but don’t eat any of it. It looks delicious. It smells delicious. But I just can’t bring myself to put it in my mouth. Zain doesn’t seem to have the same problem, tucking into his appetizer with relish.

When his plate is empty, and mine isn’t, he raises an eyebrow.

”I can’t eat on demand.”

”You wouldn’t last a week in prison, then. You eat when food is served, or you go hungry until the next meal.”

”Well, lucky for me I’m not in prison.” My response is tart, and I really should have thought it through before saying it.

”You will be by the end of the week. So I suggest making the most of being able to choose your meals, and when you can eat them while you can.”

His words do nothing to help my appetite.

I shouldn't have signed the contract. I should have taken it to a lawyer. Common sense tells me that at least half the things on it can’t be legal. But I hadn’t believed him when he said my mom had an affair with my dad, and that was true. And he didn’t lie about my parents talking about divorce the day Jason died.

Truth is, I’m too scared to show someone what I’ve signed. In case it is all legal.

And now I have signed it, so there’s no backing out … unless I run and leave my mom to deal with the consequences. And that’s something I’m not prepared to do.

“Just tell me why you’re doing this. It can’t be simply because I had to testify to what I saw. There must be more to it than that.”

He sets his knife and fork neatly on top of his empty plate, and takes a sip of water.

“You didn’t have to testify, though, did you? That’s the point. You could have said no. You could have admitted that you didn’t see what you claim you saw.”

“But I did see you, and it would have been wrong for me to stay silent.”

He leans back on his chair, and folds his arms. “You understand you can’t back out, don’t you? It doesn’t matter what I tell you, or what you know at this point. If you renege on any part of the contract you’ve just signed, I’ll not only ensure your mother never sees the outside of a prison cell again, I’ll sue you for malicious intent to defame my character, and take every cent you have.”

“You can’t do that.”

One eyebrow lifts. “If you’re confident of that, by all means take a chance.”

“If it was possible to sue witnesses, then it would have been done before now.”

“It’s not.” He takes another sip of water. “Testimonies in court come under qualified privilege, but if I can prove you had malicious intent or didn’t really believe what you were saying, that privilege is removed, and I can go ahead and take you to court for it. Perjury is illegal, after all.”

“But I do believe it.” The second the words leave my lips, I regret it. I’ve just made it clear that I still think he’s responsible for the murder of my brother.

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