Page 5 of The Mafia's Property

“We do, but I tend not to indulge in trash unlike my brother.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “If there’s something I know about men is that when all is said and done, pussy is pussy.”

I closed the distance between us, crowding her space until she was mere inches away from me. “Trust me. When I say I don’t eat trash. I mean, I don’t eat trash.”

“Cool. Guess that means you feel nothing for me.”

“Not just me, my brother as well. Nico maybe into you now, but he’s going to be over you in a week. He can be flighty. He wants you for one thing only and no, it’s not what you think. You’ll soon find out.”

There’s something about her that made me distrust her. I couldn’t put a pin on it, but it was raising my alarm bells. My instincts said she was not good for me or for Nico. If only there was another way to scare into leaving on her own. Fuck, maybe there is. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. It was one way to freak her out into running out of here. I grab her hand and ignore her squeal as I march her out of the hall.

“Fucking hell!” she screamed.

“I have to show you something.”

Freya

THAT SOMETHING WAS a contract. I was still in that skimpy little bikini when Rico practically threw the contract at me. When he took my hand, I was afraid he would throw me out on the streets. I wouldn’t put it past him with the little I knew of him, especially when you add onto the hate he had for me. Or worse, rape me or something. He said I have no effect on him, but the way he glared at my boobs a few moments ago said otherwise.

But no rape and no chucking me out on the street. Instead, he took me to his office, or their office—I couldn’t tell with these two—and commands me to sit. The office is mostly white and gold, like the rest of the apartment. White marble floors, white bookshelf, a glass desk trimmed with gold and gold chairs. I watched him as he went over to the other side of the desk and open a drawer. He pulled out a document and slides it over to my side before slumping into the larger office chair.

“You need to sign this.”

“Now?” I flipped through the stack of papers. I am sure the contract was longer than a printed version of Apple’s terms and conditions. Fuck me. I know they are a little weird and overly formal when it came to their ‘choosing’ but this was overboard.

“You’re free to read it before you sign.” He sat back in his chair.

“I think I need some time before I can get into this. You know, like a couple of days. Or even have a lawyer look into it or something…”

“You can, but the contract would no longer be on offer once you leave this room.”

“I don’t think it’s legal for contracts to have such draconian clauses.”

He sits still staring back at me.

“Isn’t it blackmail or something?”

“Do you want to leave? The door is open.”

This is what he wanted. It’s an intimidation tactic, and he wanted me to leave. If I was here for myself, I would have left, but I’m here on a larger mission. “Is this how you treat your other women, or is the arm twisting made especially for me?”

Silence again.

I turned my attention back to the document and flipped through the pages, trying to make sense of what I’m holding. There were two documents. The words ‘Non-disclosure Agreement’ were written on top in that typical legal document font on the first, much smaller one. It looked like a boiler plate NDA, not that I’m a lawyer or anything. Just that I have signed a fair few in my profession. The more high end private clientele I’ve worked with tend to require hired girls to sign one of these.

“Sign that one first,” he said, pointing at the NDA.

“Why? Do you have some torture instruments prepared for me in another room?”

He didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell if he got my joke or not. Or if I should be afraid that what I’ve said is what I’ll be signing. I try to read the document while under his glare. It’s difficult to say the least. I felt like I was back in school and found myself in the principal’s office. As soon as I finished reading the last word, as if he was tracking my eyes, he rolled a pen over the desk. I caught it before it fell, signed the contract, and handed it back to him. He took it without looking at it and placed it back in that drawer of his.

I flipped open the weirder contract. The first words were… interesting. The headline reads:

This is a sexual contract between the Property_________heretofore mentioned will be referred in the rest of the document as ‘the Property’ and the owner__________ who will be referred to as Owner one and _________ who will be referred to as Owner two…

I look up at him. “Is this a joke?”

“I don’t make jokes. You don’t have to sign it if you don’t want to, but know you’ll be out of here if you don’t.”

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