Misguided Vows: Chapter 11

I present Dawson and Honey the drawings and sit down with them for over an hour, explaining what I have in mind. I want to give their clients an experience, make them feel something special as they come in. Create a connection. As I go through all the details with them, even the ones that include their line of sex toys, Dawson looks impressed and Honey stares at me in shock.

“When Will said you were good, I didn’t fully believe him. Then I saw your videos, and thought, she has talent. But this”—Dawson waves a hand at the sketches on my iPad—“is amazing.”

“Thank you. I was nervous with this one,” I admit.

“Okay, you have done amazing, and we need to celebrate,” Honey chirps as she stands.

“You can’t, you’re pregnant,” Dawson says to her.

She blushes, and I look down to her belly.

“We only found out a few weeks ago. It seems I wasn’t paying attention,” she says.

“Congrats. How far along are you?”

“Almost twenty weeks.” She presses her shirt to her belly, and I can see a small bump. It’s so tiny, but I guess she is too. “My sister has been dying for a night out, and while I can’t drink, I can watch.”

“Honey,” Dawson warns.

“You have, what, three nights left here?” Honey ignores him, looking at me expectantly, and I nod.

“Okay, good. Give me a second while I call her. She has a six-month-old and hasn’t left the house in a while. Crue—that’s her big, scary husband—hasn’t been able to get her to leave either.” She laughs as she steps away with the phone to her ear.

I turn to Dawson.

“I should say I have plans,” I tell him. He smirks and shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I trust her. It’s just I hate being away from her.” He looks over his shoulder to where she’s pacing before he turns back to me. “I’ll email you all my contractors’ contacts and you can start as soon as possible?”

“You want to hire me? For real?”

“Yes, and I will pay you double the original offer.”

I gasp. “You don’t have to, honestly. I’ve enjoyed creating it.”

“I’ll pay you double to stay,” he says. “To handle it all from start to finish. This is not my expertise. I handle other things.” He doesn’t say what, but I get the feeling it’s not legal. “And Honey has her own business. So we need someone to oversee it all. Can you do that?”

“Of course. I’ll find somewhere to stay while the work is being done.”

“Good. My contractors will know to take orders from you.”

Honey comes back over and says, “Okay, so girls’ night. Do you need clothes? I know you only came with a small bag.”

“It’s fine. I’m staying for the duration of the project, so I’ll run out to grab a few things and some new outfits,” I tell her.

“Oh, you accepted!” She beams at me, then turns to her husband. “You offered her double, right?” He rolls his eyes and looks to me. It’s not a sign of annoyance; you can see he loves her.

“He did,” I answer. “And I’m excited to get started.”

I managed to get a few things to hold me over in the short term, but I’ll have to look for somewhere else to stay soon, as I don’t think they’ll want to cover a hotel for the whole time I’ll be here.

Honey texted me the address of where we’re meeting and told me it was just around the corner from my hotel. I step out onto the sidewalk dressed in jeans with a brown belt, a small white shirt that shows my midriff, and a pair of heels. It takes me less than five minutes to find the bar, and when I walk in, I spot Honey straight away. She stands from her seat and pulls me in for a quick hug before pointing to the lady behind her.

“This is Rya, my sister.” I give Rya a wave and then take a seat.

“I ordered you a drink,” Honey tells me, and I note a glass of water by her hand.

“Thank you.”

“Honey was showing me your videos,” Rya says, a drink already in front of her. “You’re really good; I can see why Dawson hired you.”

“Thank you. And what is it that you do?” I ask her as the bartender walks over with a French martini. I smile and take a sip of it. Yum.

“At the moment, I’m a breastfeeding machine. But I’m a criminal lawyer and own my own firm.” She smiles.

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“The breastfeeding? Yeah, I know.” She winks, and Honey spits out her water, laughing.

“She doesn’t mean to be rude, but it’s just Rya,” Honey says, then stands and heads to the bar, calling out over her shoulder, “I’m getting you both some shots.”

“Who has the baby tonight?” I ask Rya.

“His father. Eli is the best baby,” she gushes, picking up her drink. “He loves his father as much as he loves me, which I think helps.”

Honey comes back with a tray full of shots. I stare at it, shocked.

She picks up two shot glasses and places one in front of me and one in front of Rya. “Since I can’t drink, you two will do it for me,” she says, picking up another set and placing them in front of us. She sits down and claps her hands. “Drink.”

Rya looks at me with raised brows, shrugs, then throws back the shot. I lift mine up and do the same. It burns as it goes down. We both pick up the next shots at the same time, and the bartender approaches with two cocktails and a plate of dips and bread. Not sure how much alcohol that’s going to soak up, but I’m willing to try.

“So, what does your husband do?” I ask Rya, trying to not throw up as I grab a piece of bread.

“Oh, you know, he kills people, runs a lot of businesses, and is probably one of the most dangerous men I know.” She leans in and whispers, “But I can make him get on his knees and beg. Maybe I’m more dangerous than he is.” She throws her head back and laughs. I’m not sure if she’s joking or not. She definitely has a dry sense of humor, which I can appreciate. She gives me a knowing look when she adds, “And I worked with Will once. He assisted me in finding a client. He has a knack for hunting, that one.”

“Yeah, he mentioned his job is to track people down,” I tell her. Rya looks at Honey, then back at me. There seems to be a silent conversation between the two, one I don’t entirely understand. It’s as if they’re deliberating telling me something maybe. Or perhaps I misread something?

“Do you know what type of world you’re in right now?” she asks. I look at her, confused. “It’s all good. Just keep it that way. Do your job and then go home. Trust me.” Honey offers me a small smile and no further explanation. It’s unsettling in a way and also creates more questions. I know these people are different. They have a particular aura around them. I’ve dealt with people who work in what might be considered the underworld before but part of me wonders if I’m wrong. Surely I am right? They seem far classier and put together then those who I’ve dealt with in the past.

But when Rya and Honey go to the bathroom my curiosity gets the best of me. I can read between the lines of Honey wanting to tell me something but deciding it’s better not to. With that said, left to my own devices even if only for a few minutes I want to know exactly what I’m involving myself with. I pull out my phone and Google Rya, then Google her husband. At first, I’m in shock about what I find, I thought maybe they dabbled in questionable affairs but as I flick through and read, I realize Rya wasn’t joking when she said her husband kills people.

The first thing I find about Crue Monti is that he is a known mafia leader but has never been charged with a crime. There are many theories regarding certain events but no solid evidence of anything at all.

I search Dawson then, and gape when I find that he’s suspected of being a human trafficker. But it’s nothing but allegations.

Is that what they’re doing? Getting me drunk to kidnap and traffic me?

Oh, God.

Standing, I wonder if I can leave without getting caught, but Honey comes over and sits back down. When I don’t sit straight away, she looks up at me confused.

“Do you want to change the venue? I know of a cute little bar down the road.”

“Do you plan to traffic me?” I blurt.

“Traffic you? What the actual fuck?” Rya says, walking up to the table and about to take her own seat.

“I Googled your husbands,” I say, my gaze darting between them. I mean surely she didn’t think giving me an ominous warning like that wouldn’t spark my curiosity to delve deeper.

“Sit down, Alina. And, no, we don’t traffic people,” Honey says, tapping the table. “You honestly thought that?” She sounds surprised, and honestly, a little hurt.

“Well, your husband—”

“Do you believe everything you read on the internet?” Rya asks me.

“No, it’s just…”

“Yes, it’s true that my husband is part of the Mafia,” Rya admits. “Now, sit down. We don’t plan to traffic you or hurt you in any way.” She rolls her eyes.

“Dawson runs exclusive auctions that are sex related, but he doesn’t traffic anyone,” Honey explains.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” I shake my head.

“It’s fine. You’re vanilla,” Rya says.

“Vanilla?” I ask and it immediately snaps me out of my frantic thoughts and I’m not sure if she’s joking and teasing me.

“You weren’t brought up in this world. We were, so we weren’t thrown off. Our father is very powerful, and so are our husbands. But they won’t hurt you, unless you hurt us.” Rya smiles and sits back.

I take a breath. The experience I’ve had in this world…although short and fleeting was what destroyed my previous relationship and he was far from a powerful man. He was just a piece of shit caught up in drugs. I should be scared but when I sit across from them… they seem like normal women. Besides wearing designer everything, we’re just three women out for a girls’ night. It’s jarring almost, but I trust my instinct that they genuinely aren’t here to hurt me, and my instinct has never led me astray. But it immediately forms another question.

“Is Will part of that world?” I ask.

The sisters look between one another again, a silent conversation happening. I’m somewhat envious of their ability to do that without even speaking but don’t all siblings have that relationship? I wouldn’t know.

“I think that’s something you should ask Will,” Honey says and I feel like all of a sudden I’ve stepped over a line. I also feel bad accusing them of potentially trafficking me when I know they’d never hurt me.

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to Honey. “Really, I am. I read stuff and just got…”

“It’s fine. But don’t feel like you have to stay here with us if you feel unsafe. You can stop drinking and head back to the hotel.” She’s saddened as she says it. I wonder how often they have to draw a line in relationships not to let them get so close or to discover this part of their world. Shouldn’t I be flattered in the least that they piqued my curiosity so much to let me ask the question?

“Fuck that. I’m not stopping until I have to crawl home,” Rya exclaims, downing the last of her cocktail and sauntering back toward the bar. I kick up a smile, a wave of relief washing over me that despite the awkward exchange and swirling questions they’re acting as if nothing strange has happened at all. I can process this later, but for now, I’m enjoying myself, and who am I to stop myself from having a good time?

“Get me one?” I yell out, to which she winks approvingly, and I notice the wave of relief run through Honey. Where Rya might be more direct, Honey is sweet and easy to read. At this point, I know two things. One, I can trust them. Two, I might not remember much of tonight, the way we’re ordering drinks. And I’m fucking down for it.