The Trophy Wife

TWELVE: Deal

Alberto's lawyer worked fast.

He arrived at the estate in a matter of minutes. After asking me a couple of questions, he typed up a contract that benefited me more than his actual client... for the most part that is. The Mobster definitely could have squeezed more out of me, but all he seemed to care about were the bragging rights that came with stealing me away from my husband.

"Just so we're clear," I began. "Once I give you those papers, you'll help me, no strings attached?"

"I don't want just the papers. I want the deal, the money that comes with it." Alberto argued back.

"I can get you the information, but I have no way of ensuring that you will get that money. That's up to you to do. Enzo hasn't closed on it yet, so you'll have some time to–"

"Yes, I understand that it is my job to actually close, but you must understand who you're dealing with. The FBI spends a lot of money and effort trying to get their hands on me. I'm agreeing to help you, Evelyn, but not without strings. I am not a fair or understanding man. I want what I want and I will go to great lengths in order to get it."

"But I am giving you want you want. I told you I will bring them with me to the party. We already established that no papers means no help."

"I'm not going to walk away from this empty handed and I still don't trust you. These 'strings' as you call them are my insurance that I don't get screwed over in the process of trying to perform a good deed."

Good deed my ass.

"Fine." I frowned.

"So what I've gathered is that if Mr. Santoro doesn't physically get the money from that particular business transaction, Mrs. Granucci will end up in Mr. Santoro's custody." The lawyer interrupted. "Is that correct?"

Alberto's eyes were like lasers, boring into me. "Yes." I agreed in between clenched teeth. "That is correct."

He flashed his pearly whites in my direction and then said, "Don't look so surprised, Evelyn. What did you expect would come from striking a deal with the devil?"

***

As insane as my twenty three years on planet Earth were, I had never experienced an actual panic attack. When something went wrong, Enzo was usually there to comfort me in whatever way he could. And I suppose the pressure of maintaining an image, a facade also aided in my ability to remain stoic despite all of the tragedies and disasters that made up my life.

But once I left Alberto's estate and got into my car the ugly reality of what I had just done punched me in the stomach, forcing the air out of my lungs.

I was going down. Drowning. Fast.

In my haste to save an innocent man's life, I signed myself over from one man to another. From a man who loved me, to a man who couldn't care less.

I finally learned to accept my life for what it was. I was not a free woman, nor would I ever be one. I had no control over what I ate, what I wore, where I went, who I spoke to. Whatever decision I made, it always had to be approved, and if it wasn't, I simply couldn't go through with it.

The only thing that made my life tolerable was, surprisingly, Enzo. We had adjusted to one another. We were familiar with each other. There was an understanding between us. He knew what I needed in order to be happy and he always gave it to me as I did for him.

But Alberto Santoro was a whole different story. He absolutely despised us. Helping me was in no way a selfless good deed. He had a motive. There was a very dark and disturbing reason behind it. I couldn't imagine how oppressed and miserable I would be under his care. I didn't want to imagine it, but as hard as I tried to push the thoughts away, as loud as I told myself that everything was going to be okay, I could not, for the life of me, catch my breath.