Takeover Ch. 03

You tell him you'll be careful.

Constantin looks at you. Is there pity in his eyes? If so, the pity is soon replaced by cheerful crinkling as he grins at you and claps you on the back. "Good lad."

You ask him how Fia and Quinn met as you wipe the sticky overflow of your drink off your sleeve.

"I'm not sure," he says. "But I know they went to school together." He draws you closer, whispering. "Look, you're new to the whole game, and that's what it all is: a game. A game played in beds as much as it is in boardrooms. Try not to take too much of it too heart - you won't last, otherwise. Just put on a grin like this-" He points to his own. "-and be as agreeable as possible. Our wives are under stress every moment of every day, and the only time they get off is when they're alone with us. We've an important job."

His voice grows lower. "Look, the first time you catch her with someone, try not to make a big deal out of it. All powerful women are like that. It's not a criticism of you. It's just the way things are." The glimmer of pain in his eyes belies his grin. "That's the secret to a happy marriage. Knowing when to look the other way."

"Are you boring the poor boy, Constantin?" Milana has appeared beside you in her cloud of perfume. You glance about at the other women who have appeared and Fia is among them. You gently free yourself from Constantin and join your wife by her side. She slips her arm around your waist, pushing your hips together and whispers in your ear.

"Miss me?"

You nod. With her arm around you, you feel safe. Even when Quinn appears you're able to smile and keep your heart from racing. You know the Barracuda will keep you safe from her.

"Have you been enjoying yourself?" asks Quinn, smiling. It's a pleasant smile all the more sinister for its complete lack of even the slightest hint of mockery. "I have a request to make of you. Your wife has been telling everyone how well you play the piano. Would you play for us?"

There's hooting and clapping and you realise you've become the centre of attention again. You nod, your eyes glued to the ground as you smile shyly.

Fia kisses you on the cheek and pats your bottom as Quinn leads the party inside. The baby grand lies on the other side of the entertainment room from the mini bar and many of the guests seat themselves there. You sit yourself on the stool and decide what you should play. You're suddenly nervous, and you glance across the milling people. Quinn has positioned herself close by and Fia comes to stand beside her. Constantin lifts his drink to you and winks.

You take a deep breath and start to play.

--------------

The applause dies away. Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor is always a crowd pleaser, and with its intricate finger-work, the mistakes you made are not likely to have been noticed by non-players.

Fia beams at you, but the smile drops from her face when Quinn steps up and helps you from the stool, taking both your hands in hers as she pours effusive praise over you. You soon find yourself swept into an involved conversation about music and art with Milana, Quinn, Fia and a number of other women. Fia keeps close to you but she doesn't stop Quinn from constantly touching your hand and arm as she asks you questions and laughs at your timid jokes.

Your heart is flushed with pride as you make your way to the bathroom. But your bladder is bursting since it took you a long while to extricate yourself from the conversation.

As you relieve yourself you notice the tiled walls are sliding. You realise then just how much you've had to drink.

After fumbling with the faucet you wash your hands but manage to splash water all over your shirt in the process. You grab one of the white fluffy white hand towels from the pile and try to soak up the worst of it when you hear voices approaching. You slip out of the bathroom and around the corner behind a potted cypress, not wanting to be caught looking an utter fool.

You're still there, dabbing at your shirt when you hear faucets flowing and the tail-end of a conversation.

"...seemed pretty impressed." It's Lanzo's voice.

"He made a few mistakes," replies Haru. "But I guess all that blushing stopped anyone else noticing."

Lanzo yowls like a cat then laughs. "Feeling threatened?"

"Why? He's the Barracuda's. Besides, he's no Etienne. I think the guy's still a virgin, actually."

Lanzo snorts. "Not likely. The Barracuda would have ridden him ragged straight after the wedding, right? Anyway, you better pray he's no virgin."

Anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Shit, dude. You know better than anyone else what Quinn's like."

There's the sound of a body being thrust hard against tiles. "Don't talk about her like that!"

"Okay, okay man." Silence. "Jesus. You're a real prick when you drink, you know that?"

Nervous laughter from Haru. "Yeah. I know. Sorry."

"No. No, it's my fault. Digging up hurtful shit like a little bitch. I deserved it." A sigh. "You have to feel sorry for the guy, though."

"Why?"

"Well, how would you like to get sold off?"

Haru laughs. "Yeah, I guess."

"It's almost medieval, don't you think? They get the money, she gets the name."

"The name's just money," says Haru. "You know that, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Now that she's Fia Collatini she's an aristocrat. The name's opened up access to the bankers of the Savoys. They don't deal with commoners. Why do you think Milana bothered to come tonight? Fia's got a lot more leverage now thanks to Mister Blushing Virgin."

"Did Quinn tell you this?"

"Yeah. She knows Fia doesn't like relying on her exclusively. Their history and all that."

"So it's all just about money, huh?"

Haru sighs. "What isn't?"

A pause. "Do you think he loves her?"

"You've seen how he looks at her? Course he does. Poor bastard."

You fold up your handtowel, toss it behind the cypress and slink away.

---------

When you join the men again you're met with grins and hugs. Your chest aches but you put on a smile and laugh at their good-natured joking. You have a few more drinks, eager to purge the worst of the pain of the revelation.

Fia. She married you just so she could access more capital to pour into her takeover of Lunghezza Motori? And yet, the way she kisses you...

...well, that sort of thing can be faked, right? Especially if it's all a game.

You drive such thoughts away. Fia told you to be careful at the party. This is just the sort of thing she was talking about. It's likely all lies and they're just taking advantage of your naivety.

The party continues. Lanzo sings operetta to uproarious applause. Fia and Quinn and Milana remain glued together in their own little world. Constantin gives you more advice. The other boys make you a co-conspirator in numerous intrigues. Haru tries to teach you how to juggle, but it would have been impossible even if you weren't drunk.

In the middle of a conversation Etienne starts fanning his face with a hand. "Wow, is it hot here or is it just me?"

"It's the sirocco," says Lanzo with a chuckle. "Also, youarehot."

Etienne glances at him coquettishly and then starts to unbutton his shirt. You laugh, wondering what new game this is they're playing.

"C'mon, time for a swim," Lanzo says to you as he tears off his own jacket and flings it aside.

But you didn't bring a swimming costume...

Etienne rolls his eyes. "Who needs one? You can wear your underwear if you like, but please, whatever you do,don'tstart blushing."

Lanzo is already stripped to the waist and he comes and starts helping you out of your clothes. You glance across at the women in a panic. Everyone is watching. Quinn winks at you.

Where's Fia? She's standing next to Milana not far away. Your eyes meet hers and she shrugs, mouthing something like 'go ahead' before turning away.

Well, if Fia is okay with it...

Etienne is naked now, his pale body like moonlight. He runs and leaps into the pool with a splash that sends a glittering plume of water into the air. There's a cheer from the women, followed by enthusiastic clapping.

Lanzo pulls your now-unbuttoned shirt off you and starts to undo your belt, but you blush and take over from him. Can you really get naked in front of all these women? But it's just playing around, after all. Nothing serious.

Shivering with the cool and with nervousness, you slip your pants down and off, leaving yourself in just your underwear. You notice that Lanzo and Haru are both naked now. Lanzo's hands are firm and warm as he draws them down your sides before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulling them straight down.

You gasp but you have no other time to react to your sudden nakedness. Haru and Lanzo propel you over to the pool and you leap in together.

The water is not as cold as you expected, but you're gasping when you surface from the surprise anyway. The water foams about you as you push wet locks of your hair out of your eyes. You kick your legs, treading water.

Haru takes your hand and smiles at you. "I forgot to warn you - this is sort of a tradition at Quinn's parties," he says. "Etienne always starts it off. It's just a chance to show off for the girls."

The water is lit from below with multi-coloured lights and your glistening bodies change colour with the shifting light. You flush with shame but also excitement, all the alcohol you've drunk lending you a surge of naughty confidence. When Lanzo starts splashing you, you laugh and splash him back.

The women watch, laughing and cheering at your little mock battles. Lanzo and Haru gang up upon Etienne and give him a sound dunking. He surfaces gasping, his hair streaming, and he throws himself on Haru and starts wrestling him.

A chant has started up among the women.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Your eyes scour the excited crowd. Fia is there among them. She isn't looking in your direction and is drinking.

When you turn back Etienne's hand is cupping Haru's chin. Haru's eyes are elsewhere, scanning the crowd. He's looking for Quinn.

You follow his gaze. Quinn is clapping and cheering in encouragement.

Haru closes his eyes. And then Etienne is kissing him.

The kiss is wet and goes on for a long time. At last Etienne breaks the kiss and the crowd screams in delight. Etienne waves at them and then swims over to Lanzo. The two embrace. You swim back against the side of the pool, staring at the two of them hungrily kissing, still not believing what's happening, and so you don't notice Haru until he's right beside you. He takes your hand as he treads water beside you.

The chant changes.

"New boy! New boy! New boy!"

Haru lays a water-cool hand against your chest. His eyes are dark, sad, excited. "Have you ever kissed another boy before?"

You shake your head.

"It's just like kissing a girl," he says. "The women like it. Are you okay with it?"

You look out across the crowd. A nervous hush has fallen over them. Every eye is on you.

Every eye except Fia's. She's staring out across your heads at the moonlit sea behind you.

Fia.

Well, it's all a game, isn't it?

You close your eyes. You feel Haru's breath against your lips. It smells sweet. What will it be like to kiss another boy? Is it really just like kissing a girl, like kissing Fia?

He throws his arms around your neck and his lips brush across yours. A shout spreads across the crowd. Then someone grabs you from underneath your armpits and your lips are torn away from Haru's as they pull you ungently from the water.

"Get your clothes on," Fia hisses at you. "We're going home."

---------

Fia keeps her eyes on the darkened road. She's driving fast and the scattered streetlights streak past like comets. Then you're swallowed up in the dark of the forest and there's no one else in the world, nothing else, except for the car with you and Fia in it.

And yet Fia says nothing. The silence is leaden and every time you find the courage to say something, to break that silence, the words stick in your throat.

Is she angry at you?

You stare out the window. A dark web of entwined shadows spins past.

You place your forearm across your eyes as hot tears spill from them, choking back the sobs pushing at your throat.

"I'm not mad at you," says Fia. Her voice barely reaches you over the growl of the engine it's so soft. "I'm just..." She shakes her head.

You wipe away the tears. Fia's voice calms you but the hesitation in her voice, the weakness...

You reach out to touch her hand. This time she shies away from you. She shakes her head again. "Please don't. Just... please."

Her voice is so plaintive it frightens you.

The rest of the trip passes in total silence.

-----------------

You get ready for bed. Fia has splashed some water on her face and stripped out of her clothes, leaving them on the edge of the bath. You don't have the heart to take them to the laundry and leave them there.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. Is this the face of a good husband, you wonder? You try and imagine what's happening at the homes of the other married women at the party. Is everyone's married life like this? This fear, this sudden fear that your wife doesn't really love you.

So that's what it is.

You take a shower, shampoo and condition your hair, dry yourself thoroughly. You look at yourself in the mirror again. You fuss with your hair, check your profile. Fia called you cute that evening, the night after your wedding night, when she was drunk and tried to force herself on you. She'd been maddened by your vulnerability, by your innocence.

You open the door to the bedroom. Fia is already in bed, lying on her side, her face turned away from the door. Light spills into the room leaving a blazing panel on the far wall. Fia must have noticed it. She's just feigning that she's asleep. Fia snores when she sleeps.

You slide into bed behind her, slipping your arm over her soft warmth. She doesn't move. You cuddle yourself closer to her, burying your lips in her hair, kissing the back of her neck.

You're hard. You want her to make love to you, to do everything she wanted to do to you that night she was drunk. Your hands find the weight of her breasts beneath her nightdress. Her nipples are hard. You pinch them and she gasps.

Fia rolls over to face you.

Her voice, little more than a whisper. "Please don't. I'm tired."

I'm tired.

You roll over, a ball of anger and sadness and frustration fuelled by your drunkenness. You want to flee the bed, leave her lying in it alone. Instead you just cry, making no sound, pushing your face against the pillow until it grows wet.