Imperfect intentions, p.7
Imperfect Intentions, page 7
“A very kind one,” I muse, my attention fixed on Violet.
Violet stands like a cardboard cutout, slicing me up with her fiery lavender gaze.
Gia drones on about the charity she likes to support as a family, but it’s Violet I look at. There’s no arguing the fact that her mother is beautiful. With her burgundy hair and classic features, she’s Grace Kelly with dark hair reincarnated. Gia is a dazzling light, a star on top of a Christmas tree, but Violet is a whole planet on fire. Gia’s beauty is superficial. Her light has long since been extinguished. What’s left is the residual stardust of glitter eyeshadow and a shiny dress. My girl, her fire can’t burn out. Violet is a fucking sun. The force that drives her is more than simple survival. It’s a lust for life. Life itself is feeding off her flames. I’m the moth that will burn its wings, but I can’t resist.
“Anyway,” Gia says, making me tune back into the moment when she touches my shoulder. “Shall we take our places at the table?” Glancing at Violet, she continues, “We can talk more comfortably when we’re seated.”
Gia leads the way to a big dining room adjoining the lounge. A mural that depicts Roman gods dining on grapes and wine covers the back wall. French doors similar to the ones in the lounge exit onto the veranda that extends along the side of the house.
The dinner is a formal affair. Gus and I talk business while Gia picks at her shrimp cocktail and Elliot glares. Only Violet seems to have a good appetite. She devours every morsel of the Lobster Thermidor that follows the starters.
When the housekeeper serves the flan, Elliot addresses me. “You haven’t said where you worked before.”
I take my time to finish my wine. “I haven’t.”
“Which university did you attend?” he asks, pasting a smile on his face.
Holding his gaze squarely, I say, “I didn’t.”
Gia clears her throat. “More flan, anyone?”
Elliot fakes surprise. “No tertiary education?”
My smile is cold. “I’m a self-educated man.”
“You have big ambitions for a self-taught man,” he says.
“There’s nothing wrong with either.”
“Of course not.” He turns his gaze to Violet. “Look at my stepsister. She finished a degree in art, and much good it’s doing her. Unless you see the art in cleaning.”
Violet clenches her fingers around her glass.
“Leon has traveled through Africa,” Gus says. “There’s no better school for learning than traveling.” He taps his temple. “It broadens perspectives and teaches lessons you won’t find in books. I myself backpacked through Eastern Europe before I settled down.” Bringing his glass to his lips, he says to his son, “I highly recommend it. You may learn a thing or two.”
Elliot stiffens. “I don’t need to volunteer for the Red Cross in Malawi or lie on a beach in Mozambique to gain experience on how to run a business.”
What my CV doesn’t say is that the traveling I did mostly entailed laying low in African rural areas after money heists.
“It seems you have high ambitions too, Elliot,” Violet says before I can formulate a suitable reply. “You’re just going about yours differently.”
Gia shifts in her seat. “More flan, anyone? I really love this recipe. It’s from Costa Rica. Don’t you think the coconut adds a nice touch?”
“Having ambition gives your life meaning,” Elliot says. “You should try it sometime, Violet.”
Violet smiles sweetly. “This may come as a shock to you, but I have plenty of ambition.”
“Like being promoted to the admin department?” he asks with a cock of his brow.
The dangerous stints I performed for most of my life perfected my control. It prevents me from rounding the table and planting my fist in his face. Still, that doesn’t mean I’m letting him get away with speaking to her like that.
“You owe Violet an apology, Elliot,” I say. “You’re out of line.”
Violet gives a start as if she didn’t expect me to defend her. Gia brushes a hand over her nape.
“Sorry, Violet,” Elliot says, batting his eyelashes like a girl. “I guess the admin department isn’t so bad.”
“She won’t need a position in the admin department,” Gus says.
“What?” Violet gives him a surprised look. “I thought you said—"
“You won’t need a promotion,” Gus says.
She frowns. “Why not?”
He takes a cigar from a box next to his place setting. “Because it’s time you get married.”
Silence falls over the table.
Gia averts her eyes. Elliot gloats. The only person who’s shocked by the announcement is Violet. She’s the only one who didn’t know.
Her eyes flare, their unique color glistening as she looks around the table before settling her gaze on me. If anyone wondered why Gus invited me for dinner, they’re not wondering any longer.
“Excuse me,” she says, her voice hoarse as she pushes her chair back.
Gia’s expression is pained as Violet gets to her feet and escapes through the French doors onto the veranda.
I cut Elliot a look that promises retribution, but I’m angrier with Gus for how he delivered the news.
When Gus lights the cigar, I excuse myself and follow Violet outside. She stands with her back to me, staring out over the garden to where the Monkey Puzzle trees are draped with fairy lights. In the far corner, a fake waterfall tumbles over artificial rocks into a lit pool.
I stop close to her, inhaling the sweet caramel scent of her skin. The arch of her neck beckons me to trace the line with a finger. Shoving my hands into my pockets lest I act on that urge, I say, “Tell me about these ambitions of yours.”
She spins around. “Is that why you kissed me? It was a strategic move? You’re hoping to marry your way into Gus’s business?”
“No.”
“I’m not a fool,” she hisses. “Don’t treat me like one.”
“I’d never mistake you for a fool.”
“Just for a whore?” she asks with a biting tone.
“Did I pay you for sex?”
“Did you want to?” she deadpans.
“Yes,” I admit. Because it’s a hell of a lot less complicated and conflictive. Because I want her, even now as her lush upper lip curls with disgust. I want her on more levels than what a simple marriage certificate defines.
“Fuck you,” she says, making to walk past me.
I catch her wrist. “You’re going to have dinner with me. Next Saturday night.” Leaning close, I press my lips against the shell of her ear. “We’re going to sit down, have a meal, share a few glasses of wine, and talk about this like adults.”
She yanks free from my hold. “No thanks.”
“I told you already. I’m not asking.”
“That sounds like an ultimatum.”
“If that’s how you choose to look at it. Whatever the case, that dinner is going to happen.”
“Or else?”
“Or else I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.” I’m not joking when I say, “I’ll tie you to the chair if I have to. Feeding you may be fun.”
Even though her head only reaches my shoulder, she looks down her nose at me before lifting her chin and walking back into the house like a queen I haven’t just checkmated.
Chapter 14
Violet
* * *
Leon Hart is the devil. My mom knows it. She knows it because he’s just like Gus. That’s why she didn’t tell me who was coming for dinner but only to put on a pretty dress. That’s why she didn’t tell me about Gus’s plan.
Going inside, I ignore the people sitting around the table and walk from the room. No one stops me because tears are streaming over my cheeks. Gus would rather hide me in my room than parade me around with mascara running black under my eyes. In his opinion, I’m damaged goods. He doesn’t want anyone to see me looking more imperfect than what I already am.
Gus’s cigar smoke and Leon’s deep voice follow me up the stairs. Trembling with anger, I slam my bedroom door behind me and turn the key. I lean against it and drag in a few, long breaths as tears of anger continue to drip down my chin.
It was so close. I almost made it to freedom. Just a few more years, and I would’ve had the money. Now I’m trapped, doomed to live my mother’s life. This is the price I’m paying for my legs. Grabbing the pillow from my bed, I push it over my face to muffle my scream, but it doesn’t change anything. I can scream until my voice is hoarse, and I still won’t feel better.
I drop the pillow, go to my desk, and take a sketchpad from my drawer. The strokes I drag over the page leave stark lines. I draw the same scene from last weekend, the one with the octopus constraining the naked woman. This time, I let the creature use all his legs, wrapping them around her wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. He uses the eighth one to penetrate her. That’s what men like Gus and Leon do to women. They fuck us over. We don’t get a choice.
When I acknowledge the truth, the world comes crashing down around me. The reality holds me down and strangles me until I feel like suffocating. My destiny flashes in front of my eyes. I see it clearly, navigating the same road with the same pitfalls as my mom.
Fuck.
I’m furiously blending the charcoal lines with a finger, rubbing darkness into the picture, when a knock falls on the door.
Closing the sketchpad, I walk to the bed and shove it under the mattress.
Another knock sounds.
“Violet?” my mom says. “Open the door, honey. Please.”
I don’t want to, but even now, even with what’s happening, I’m indebted to her. Turning the key, I open the door a crack.
“Honey,” she says, pushing the door open wider and cupping my cheek.
I pull away. The last thing I need is her pity.
“Leon Hart is a very handsome man,” she says.
“Like Gus?”
She winces. Gus is also good to look at, but on the inside, he’s rotten.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not certain for what I’m apologizing.
“Gus is going to make him a partner. You’ll make a good marriage.”
Meaning I’ll live in a big house and never go hungry or ever be cold, but I’ll have no say in my life. I’ll always have to dress up like a doll to be arm candy for a cruel and dangerous man. I’ll have no value beyond looking pretty. Only, I’m not even pretty. In this case, my only value is sealing a deal.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, betrayal burning like acid in my stomach.
“If I’d told you, would you have come down for dinner?”
I cross my arms. “No.”
“How would Gus have reacted?”
Not well. He would’ve dragged me down the stairs by my arm if he had to.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” I say, meaning not only tonight, but also all the other nights when I had to hide in the back of a car.
“Everything will be fine,” she says.
I can’t listen to more lies. Not tonight. “Night, Mom.”
“Have a warm cup of tea.” She smiles. “Tomorrow, everything will look better.”
Does she believe herself? Has she been lying to herself for so long that she can tell the lie convincingly?
For the first time in my life, I close the door in my mother’s face. Immediately, guilt for my behavior swamps me. In its wake follows regret. Guilt, regret, and betrayal aren’t conducive sentiments, but my life is built on those emotions. Fear and pain are ingrained in my being. I’m never at peace. Sometimes, I think I’m chaos reincarnated.
I hate my stepfather and his business. I hate my body that made my mom do what she did. I hate Leon Hart. I hate his handsome face and powerful body. Most of all, I hate that he’s using me. It doesn’t make stealing right, but hating him does make me feel a little better about the crime Elliot is blackmailing me to commit.
Chapter 15
Leon
* * *
After my future wife has stormed from the room with her mother hot on her heels, I make to follow, but Gus gets up and lays a hand on my arm.
“Give her some time,” he says, sucking on his cigar. “The idea needs to grow on her.”
I don’t care that this is his house and that I’m the trespasser. I free my arm and continue to the door. Violet has run out on me one time too many already. Running away and burying her head in the sand isn’t going to help either of us in our new future.
“Leon,” Gus says to my back. “I’m no expert on women, but I can tell you no woman wants to be seen like that.”
I turn around. “Like what?”
He smiles. “Let’s just say—How shall I put it?—Violet isn’t looking her best right now. No woman wants to be confronted when at such a disadvantage. It’ll knock a dent into her pride. Give her time to gather herself.”
“Or at least to clean her face,” Elliot says with a snicker.
Balling my hands, I advance to Gus. “Was it necessary to break the news to her like that?”
Gus blows a circle of smoke into the air. “Does it matter how she found out?”
“It does,” I say, clenching my jaw. “I would’ve preferred to prepare her at least. Then I would’ve asked her properly.”
Gus raises a brow. “Would her answer have made any difference?”
My reply is curt. “No. But that’s not the point.”
“My stepdaughter can be strong-willed and hard-headed if not kept in her place. You won’t do yourself any favors by pampering her.”
“I hardly call that pampering. Common decency, maybe?”
Gus takes a step toward me. “For the moment, she lives under my roof. I’ll deal with her as I see fit. When she moves in with you, you can do as you please.”
I close the last centimeter of space between us, putting us chest to chest. “As she’s my future wife, her wellbeing is my concern.”
Gia walks into the room, shutting me up, but her presence doesn’t stop me from engaging in a stare-off with Gus.
She sighs, sounding tired. “Violet offers her apology. She has a migraine, and her hip is aching. She won’t be joining us for coffee.”
With a sudden bout of laughter, Gus pats my arm. “Lighten up, will you? You make it seem as if a few tears are the end of the world.”
“Gus,” Gia says, giving him a chastising frown. “You know how I feel about smoking in the house.”
“And yet, it’s my house.” He winks at me. “You wouldn’t say so.”
Gia shuts her mouth at that.
Tipping the ash on the carpet, Gus drawls, “I’ll finish my cigar on the terrace before my lovely wife catches lung cancer.”
Elliot pushes his dessert plate away and gets to his feet. “I think I’ll join you. Oh, and I’ll have that coffee you mentioned, Gia.”
She gives him a tight smile. “Sure. How about you, Leon?”
“No coffee for me. Thank you for the dinner, Gia. It was delicious. Please tell Violet I say good night and that I hope she feels better.”
“Thanks,” she says. “She’ll appreciate your concern. I’ll walk you out.”
“Elliot can walk me to my car,” I say. “Seeing that we’ll be family soon, we may as well get the male bonding over with.” I add in a mocking tone, “That’s to say if you don’t mind, Elliot.”
His grin remains intact. “Of course not.”
I incline my head in Gus’s direction. “Enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
Already making his way to the terrace, he raises a hand in greeting. “See you on Monday, son.”
Gia mutters something that sounds like, “Good night,” and excuses herself to make coffee.
I go outside and wait for Elliot to catch up. We walk in silence.
When we get to my car, he says, “I take it you have something to say to me.”
“Indeed.”
Gripping his nape, I punch my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, wheezing as he hugs his middle.
I drag him upright by the back of his collar and put my mouth next to his ear. “That’s for the jabs you threw at Violet. Disrespect her again, and you’ll walk away with more than a bruise. Next time, I’ll break your ribs.”
I drop him and get into my car, leaving him bent over and grappling for air.
Chapter 16
Violet
* * *
On Monday evening as my shift starts at the office, my stomach roils with nausea. The USB key Elliot had given me burns a hole in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m gathering the cleaning products and loading the trolley when my stepbrother walks into the kitchen.
“When are you going to do it?” he asks, leaning on the cupboard.
“When I can figure out how.” My tone is bitter. “Did you know?”
“About your upcoming nuptials? My father mentioned it on Saturday at golf.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“And spoil the fun? Nah, the look on your face when Dad told you was priceless.”
“You’re a bastard,” I hiss.
“Look at it like this. Leon obviously likes you. You can always use your body to get his password.”
“I’m not turning myself into a whore for you.”
“No.” A sly smile transforms his features. “That’s your mother’s style.”
Clenching my hands into fists, I say, “Fuck you.”
He pushes off the cupboard. “Your mother will be fucked if those photos fall into the wrong hands, so you better get me that program before the year-end party.”
“You’re out of your mind. That’s in eight days.”
“That should give you enough time to come up with a plan.”
“You’re asking me to do the impossible,” I exclaim.
“If I were you, I’d just go along with the engagement and fuck him as soon as the chance presents itself. They say men give up all kinds of secrets during pillow talk.”
