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Chapter 4 The Proposal Three [Kristoff]

  • “No,” Patrick struggles to contain his tears. “No, Titania. Don’t do this because of me. Don’t.”
  • I manage to suppress the sudden spike of anger in my chest. “Boy, if you don’t shut it…”
  • “This is not right, Kristoff and you know it,” Patrick continues as though I’ve not spoken at all. “She’s only a small girl. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
  • “Did it ever cross your mind that if you hadn’t been so greedy and selfish that she wouldn’t be doing this?” I fume, snatching the gun from Peter and dealing him a blow at the side of his head. He groans, lowering his eyes.
  • “You said you wouldn’t hurt him,” Titania squeaks behind me.
  • “Then tell him to shut up.” I barely spare her a glance. “He should be appreciative of your efforts. I can handle him being a chronic liar and a thief, but never an ungrateful wimp.”
  • I can’t place a finger on why it annoyed me so much.
  • “It’s okay, uncle,” she reassures him. “I know what I’m doing. I can’t lose you.”
  • Her words rattle me the more and I tighten my fists in rage. “You know what I honestly think about this, Titania? Leave. Leave him with me. Let him suffer the repercussions alone. It’s crystal clear that your sacrifice means nothing to him. He’s a worthless piece of shit, always been.”
  • A tremor passes through her jawline. “But he’s still family. I don’t expect you to understand because you have none. Maybe that’s why you’re so bitter. That’s why you’re a masochist.”
  • Her words light up an old flame in me that I thought I’d extinguished a long time ago. I can feel the pent-up emotions sizzling beneath her heaving chest, her lips set in a thin line and suddenly, I wish to see her eyes. To see how the rage would mix with the stark blue. True to her words, I have no family. It’s a well-known fact that I hate being reminded of, and if it were to be another person — preferably Patrick who’d spat those venomous words to my face, I’ll ensure I break his legs and rip out his tongue right on the spot.
  • But since it’s Titania…whom I’m trying my hardest to find something to dislike her for, I’m powerless. For the first time in over twenty years, I feel powerless. All because of a woman.
  • Peter and the other fool are shocked as well at my loss for words.
  • “Don’t overstep your boundaries, princess,” I huff in a gray attempt to seize control of the situation, but judging by the glances Peter and his companion steal at each other, I’ve only deepened the insult. “If bringing my family into this truffle with your criminal uncle would make you feel like you have an upper hand, then you’re dead wrong. Don’t underestimate me.”
  • She sucks in a deep breath, guilt flashing across her delicate features. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — “
  • “I don’t care,” I cut her off, hating myself for not being able to think rationally because of my blatant interest in her. In truth, she has more control over this situation than I do. She could practically say anything and I would oblige without a word. “Thirty days. One month.”
  • “What?”
  • “One month,” I reiterate. “You’ll be mine for one month. You’ll stay under my roof, eat my food and satisfy me sexually for this brief duration.”
  • “I — “
  • “In exchange, I promise to set your uncle free after that, as well as give him a well-paying job in one of my firms to keep a similar future occurrence from happening. But if I catch him trying to steal from me ever again, then I’m sorry. I’ll kill him right there on the spot.”
  • She opens her mouth to say something but closes it back, breathing heavily as she tries to make sense of what I’ve just asked of her.
  • “You have less than a minute to decide, princess.”
  • “When you say satisfy you sexually…does it mean we’ll have sex every night?”
  • “I think that’s for me to decide.”
  • “I won’t be your prostitute.” She huffs, nose scrunched up in disgust. “Don’t you have respect for women?”
  • “I do,” I pause. “But you were the one who offered yourself to me. In your words, you’ll do anything I ask of you. So don’t give me that bullcrap. I’m a masochist, remember?”
  • I catch Peter’s uncertain expression. He’s not pleased with this.
  • I’m not pleased as well, but suddenly all I want is to own her. Thirty days. Her to myself. Mine to do as I please. Mine.
  • When she wastes time giving me a reply, I signal Peter to cock his gun and she screams.
  • “Fine! Fine! One month. Whatever you say. Please don’t hurt him. I beg of you.”
  • Patrick watches on solemnly and I move over to grip a handful of his hair, pulling it tight, so close to the scalp. He whimpers in pain. “You shameless old man. Look what your selfishness has driven your niece to. Are you going to let her go through your hell with you?”
  • “I don’t think it’s in your right to question him further,” Titania cries out. “Leave him alone. I’ve already agreed to your terms.”
  • I ignore her, smacking the side of Patrick’s head. “Got nothing to say?”
  • He starts crying again. Like the sulking baby that he is. I take a deep breath and lean down, so we were eye-leveled with each other. “You can this stop this, you fool. Tell me the bloody truth. Who told you to steal the ring from me? It’s not in your nature to be greedy. I know you. You never wanted to sell it but to turn it into someone.”
  • His dark, teary, beady eyes sift over to where Titania stands behind me and he shudders.
  • “You don’t deserve her,” I spit at him. “You’re a disgrace. A terrible uncle. Speak to me, who asked for the ring?”
  • He says nothing. Nothing.
  • “Let me help you out. Was it my uncle? Was he the one who forced you to do it?”
  • His breathing quickens and his eyes become frantic with fear, confirming my suspicions. Goddammit. I shove him back, hard against the wooden chair.
  • “I’m begging you,” Titania whines as she falls to her knees, clasping her hands together in front of her. “I’ve already offered to pay for his crimes. Don’t hurt him.”
  • I turn away from Patrick to pull her up, wrapping my arms possessively around her small waist and thrusting my face in between her face and shoulder. She goes rigid at my invasiveness, struggling futilely. My arms are like a death lock around her waist.
  • “Titania,” I moan, reaching for her blindfold. “So pretty. So compassionate. So…naïve.”
  • I drag it off her face and whirl her around to face me just in time. “I hope you’ve got thick skin because after I’m done with you after thirty days, you’ll never wish to make deals with the devil in the future ever again.”