Chapter 54 Illegal Activities
I feel so much better now that I have some sort of plan set up to get out of the clutches of Ben. I think even Caroline and my mother was highly surprised when I said getting married after six months would work for me.
Especially after I said there's no need to rush things.
If I drop the video just before the wedding, it would be absolute chaos. And I'm willing to sacrifice my family's horror for it.
At the end of the day, I could say I was hacked, and the damage of being laughed at in my professional career is better than marrying a man who seems evil to the core.
The best way forward is to stay away from all the fucking Cargills. Even Miguel. Because that man is clearly a killer, and maybe if I try and forget everything that happened between us, I could escape his clutches, no matter how much I dream of him at night.
I throw myself in rehearsals, trying to perfect every part of Gregory's choreography, and he hasn't been on my case at all.
"I think you're becoming Gregory's favorite." Simon whispers conspiritorially at me during lunchtime.
"Gregory doesn't have any favorites." I stuff my mouth full of pasta.
Simon scoffs. "Girl, you are the blindest bitch I've ever seen."
"Let's just hope and pray I don't have any issues with my ankle again." I close my empty container and throw it in my bag. "I could really use some tacos right now."
Simon proceeds to sarcastically bite a piece of his steak in front of my face.
"Oh, it must be nice to be a man." I chuckle. Simon gets to eat at least twice more than I do, and yes, it does make me jealous sometimes.
"Have you ever thought of what you're going to do after all this?" Simon swings his fork in the air, a touch of panic in his eyes. "I mean, right now we're young and hot, and in one of the best companies in the world, but we don't know how long that could last."
"Until the next young and hot dancers arrive?" I try to joke, but I feel him.
I'm lucky, I could go work at my mother's company. I'm the only child, so it's probably mine anyway, and I'm most likely to inherit my father's shares of the football team. But dancing is the only thing Simon has, and I can attest that an injury could end it all in a wink of an eye.
"Dancing is all I've ever been good at." He shrugs, his eyes on his food.
"That you're great at." I take his free hand. "And any studio would be lucky to have you as a teacher, or a choreographer, or you can even open up your own place. The possibilities are endless for you."
He smiles. "Because I have a rich friend who will be my business partner."
"Sure." I laugh.
"It's totally unfair that you're beautiful, rich and you're one of the fucking best." He shakes his head, but I don't detect any jealousy there. "And engaged to Benedict Cargill, you've got it all."
I can feel my smile tensing up. That is exactly what Ben wants people to believe. That we're perfect, but I'm dead sure now that I've been manipulated all along in his twisted plans to take over the world.
When my phone buzzes, indicating a message from Ben, I'm apprehensive to open it, but I think Simon is right. I am blind because I always want to see the best in people, so I open the message so that I can know who the fuck I'm dealing with.
It's a picture of my uncle and a handsome, younger man with similar dark hair to my uncle, both men are wearing suits.
There shouldn't be anything odd to the picture, both of them look like businessmen, but it looks like they're talking in an undercover parking lot.
Then another message.
Ben: Do you know who that it is? Vincent DiCasso. Mafia boss from Chicago. Now why would the great Alessandro Moretti be talking to him?
Fuck.
Is this what he has on my family? Is uncle doing business with the mafia again?
Ben's dad is the senator of this state, if he divulges this information to him, my family empire might fall like a deck of cards.
The motherfucker knows he holds all the power.
Ben: I will send you an address where you should meet me at 7pm, and don't be late.
Even if I don't want to, I'm fucking scared.
What does he want from me? Sex?
Just the thought has me nauseous. I can't even imagine opening my legs for that monster at this point.
Should I go to my aunt and show her this picture? Maybe it's all just a misunderstanding.
But my uncle was in the mafia before, so it cannot completely be ruled out.
And what will he do if I don't pitch up at seven?