Alizarin Passions Ch. 01

"Oh my fucking god," Leah hissed at Robert, regarding him with a veiled glare as she uttered the expletive, an extremely rare instance for her, and which underscored how dire she considered this occasion. "You bring me to a nice place like the Alizarin Lounge and I think it's because you wanted to do something nice for me, and just-"

Barely able to restrain herself, Leah buried her face in her hands before taking a deep breath, her elbows resting on the edge of the table. "For fuck's sake." Robert winced at this second utterance of the f-word, and it was clear from the look on his face that he knew he'd made a major mistake.

The heavyset man sitting across from husband and wife said nothing, lifting his fork to take one of the last bite of his tiramisu before he lightly dabbed the corner of his lips with a napkin. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit with a silver-patterned tie, and his neatly-combed sideburns framed a solemn-looking face. If not for his Midwestern accent, he might have passed for a member of the cast of the Godfather films. Or any other mob film really, but his name and accent had no connotations of a Mediterranean heritage, or any of the other ethnic groups often associated with the Mob. That certainly didn't stop many of the rumors she had heard, though...

"Leah..." She heard Robert's whisper as she felt his hand on her arm, and she angrily jerked away. She rose to her feet, staring down at their host, and as she had just learned, creditor. She'd started dinner alone with Robert, but their host had joined them for dessert, which had seemed a bit odd, but now it all made sense.

"If you don't mind, sir, I need several minutes with my husband. This is absolutely the first time I have heard of any of this. And the proposition..."

Mr. Blackfeld stared up at her with a faint smirk.

"I can be a very harsh man, but I am not without magnanimity. Given these circumstances, why don't we go upstairs, and you can have all the time and room you need to clarify matters with your husband." His considerable bulk rose from the seat, giving him an undeniable presence even with his shorter than average height.

The almost kitschy décor of the popular restaurant gave way to a foyer in considerably more modern, and posh tastes, once they'd gone up several floors in a well-kept elevator. They were led to a room overlooking the lake, a large, comfortable room that was obviously designed to accommodate parties of modest size.

"My office is next door. Just knock when the two of you have come to an accord." His gaze was steady as he studied Leah and her husband, and with a slight incline of his head, he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.

Leah took a moment to look around. Obviously, this was a place to receive more elite guests, or conduct business to impress one's clients. A big-screen television sat in the corner within an ornate cabinet. The small bar on the other side of the room shared the same lavish accents, reminding her of Rococo or Victorian-style furniture. Several pieces of furniture were arranged around the room, and a large potted plant added a natural beauty that helped to balance the more ostentatious details of the room.

"Well, it's pretty clear how Mr. Blackfeld was able to throw money away on you," Leah said with a grumble.

"Why do you think I asked him? You told me no!"

"For reasons that should have been obvious when I fucking explained them to you!" Leah exclaimed as she spun to face him. "It was a shitty scheme to begin with, and I knew you guys would lose anything you invested! What is Elena supposed to do?" Her sister-in-law was married to Robert's older brother, and had three children, the youngest one just out of infancy.

"Mr. Blackfeld-"

"Oh, fuck Mr. Blackfeld!" she threw her hands up in the air, almost exhilarated at her recent spate of swearing, but then, this situation more than warranted it, and she was certain Jesus would forgive a few choice words whipped at her husband.

"That's what he wants," Robert reminded her meekly. She felt the heat pulse in her temples, and resisted the urge to punch her husband.

Last year, Robert and his brothers, Nathan and Jonathan, had wanted to go in an investment with a family friend of theirs, the same man that had approached them with the scheme in the first place. She'd listened to her husband try to explain what Joey had told them, and had done her own research, quickly figuring out that the real estate they wanted to flip was in all likelihood a money pit.

With a firm no, she refused to commit anything to what she was certain would be a failure, and had forbidden her husband from investing their joint savings. She'd even gone so far as to withdraw most of it and put it into another account, because Robert had proven himself to not be the best when it came to money.

'Not being the best' had proven to be an understatement. There had been less than ten thousand dollars in the savings. Now Robert and his brothers owed Mr. Blackfeld over five hundred thousand.

Problem was, Mr. Blackfeld was not a respectable banking firm that followed certain rules and laws when it came to loans and debt collection.

And this meant that they were royally fucked. Or she was about to be, if she agreed to bend over and take it from a man whose sinister reputation was not without basis. Half a year had passed since that money had been loaned, and lost. And Robert had not breathed one goddamn word to her. Since she'd had no involvement in this whatsoever, things had gone to hell behind her back. The brothers scrambled around, trying to fix the problem and save their investment, only making it worse. Not just that, but they had also actually thought they could try to lie to Mr. Blackfeld to ease them out of their troubles. The results were just about as predictable as the outcome of provoking an aggressive dog.

"You're the one who got the family into this situation! You can be the one to bend over and let Mr. Blackfeld fucking have at it!"

"Leah, I'm sorry. You were absolutely right and I should have listened to you. I swear to God, I'm so sorry. I only did this because I wanted to take care of us, and the family. I thought we'd get a good return and everyone would be happy. I did it for us!" The last sentence was said in an increasingly screechy tone as he fell to his knees.

"You can call me a dumb-ass and all the other words you want. But please, please. Or he's going to break our legs!"

"Then you won't be out and about, walking around and causing trouble," Leah snapped back spitefully.

"Please, please. If all three of us are hurt, then who will help with Mom? Or Elena?"

Your mom can go fuck herself, Leah thought, but Elena certainly didn't need to be dealing with this. She sighed and stared at her husband with an open, baleful glare. He had the good grace to look down shamefacedly.

She'd been so foolish and naive then. She'd come from a lower-middle class community, made of mostly blue-collar workers, and came from an average family, being the middle child of five of a postman and a housewife. In high school she'd dated Robert, who seemed like quite the catch back then, as a relatively good student as well as being on the football team, and blessed with what many would term 'All-American good looks'

After graduating from high school, they'd moved to the city in hopes of getting away from a community that had been in decline since losing one of its major factories and source of jobs. Robert worked in a warehouse, and she worked part-time as a cashier at a department store.

Robert was something of a mama's boy, but Leah had hoped the move, and marriage, would help him to mature into a better husband. But even at twenty-two, Robert was still a child in many ways, despite her efforts to break him of certain bad habits.

Especially when he spent time around his brothers or old high-school friends. The 'boys will be boys' attitude was one they'd been raised with, and Leah's nagging, scolding, arguing, and outright bans little effect. Sure, Robert would apologize, but then he'd lapse back into old ways.

But this was the first time he'd actually gotten onto his knees and apologized. Perhaps she should have threatened to break his legs a long time ago...

That's a terrible thought, she chided herself. But after nearly two years of marriage, this was a pretty good breaking point.

"And what will you do for me?" she coolly demanded as she looked down at him. He did look nice in his suit, the dark gray setting off the highlights in his hair and eyes. His eyes widened in a way that had made many girls in school swoon, and even now, were not without effect. Not for the first time, she compared him to a puppy, adorable but infuriating and difficult to train.

"I.. du... don't. What? Oh! I won't do anything like this anymore, I promise! You make all the money decisions from now on. Sounds fair, right?"

"Nope."

He let out a small whimper. "Leah, oh god, please..."

"I want more than just that." Quickly, her hand slid over to her pocket before pulling out her smartphone.

"I should take a picture of you right now, like this," Leah commented, making no effort to hide her displeasure in his actions.

"Kick a guy while he's down, huh?" Robert sounded defeated.

"I might be persuaded to not share a picture like that, if you promise that I am in charge... for everything. Not just the finances," she said firmly as she tapped the screen several times. "You don't need to get another ticket or fine because you and your 'homeboys' decided to get a bit wild on boys' night."

"What?" His voice was small. "They're my brothers! And you can't just ban a guy from hanging out with friends he's known since like... forever!"

"Hanging out with them is going to be tough if your legs are broken," came the sharp retort. He groaned softly and let his head drop back down.

"When I was little, I told myself I was never going to be one of these wives who nagged and scolded their husbands constantly. But now I see why some wives become like that. And believe me, I hate being a nag. I never want to have to yell at you, but all the stupid shit you've done. God damn it, you're not in high school anymore! You're an adult, and you need to take responsibility for your actions and accept the consequences!" Her tone became increasingly sharper as she glared down at him, wanting to yank up his head by the hair so he'd have to look her in the eye.

"So if you want to keep the men in this family walking, you will obey me in everything. If I say no, it fucking means no, and I don't say no to spoil people's fun, I say no to keep you out of trouble. I said no on this, and look at what happened when you chose to not listen!"

"So I'm... grounded?"

"Exactly. Act like a kid, and I ground you like one."

He seemed about to protest, but she cut him off. "You also agreed to let Mr. Blackfeld fuck me. You're my fucking husband, nor my pimp! When someone asks to fuck your wife, the proper thing to do is defend her!"

He gasped softly, head jerking back up as he looked at her. "I did! Or I tried to. I was all like, but sir, that's my wife! But Mr. Blackfeld said he didn't give a shit about my feelings."

"So then, I'm supposed to let him take me to bed and do whatever filthy things he wanted with me?"

"Eh..." Robert shrugged weakly. "He did say he wouldn't hurt you-"

"So, I want you to say it right now. Promise me that I am in charge of everything in our relationship. I ask you to jump..."

"I reply, how high?" he said, desperately trying to inject a light tone into the situation.

"And on who," she snapped back.

"Okay, okay. I swear before God and on my sainted mother that you'll wear the pants in the family. You're the boss lady. Queen of the house. Thank you so much for doing this!" He scooted forward on his knees, wrapping his arms around her legs.

"I also don't want to hear any whining or complaints. I tell you to do something, I don't want to see any pout or roll of the eyes or whatever!"

"You got it."

"Good." She heaved a long sigh. "Ugh." She envisioned Mr. Blackfeld. He was several inches shorter than her, and had Mr. Blackfeld been a meeker man, he would have been almost unnoticeable. But the short stature was merely a deceptive front for a keen mind and a will of iron that served him well in his various endeavors.

Many said that he had a Napoleon complex, and he certainly did seem to fit the stereotype of it. But the homely man was wealthy and powerful. Look at where Robert's good looks and easygoing charm had gotten him. It was almost a cliche that a high-school jock had his ass handed to him by the type of man who had likely been the kind of boy that was often bullied in school, particularly by said jocks.

"Oh, and this means that your mother is also banned from our place," Leah said, this unexpected positive suddenly springing into her mind as she absorbed the fact that her husband had just promised to cede all control to her.

"But-"

"Ah, ah. Remember your promise. And how it would break her heart if she found out about you falling in with..." She waved her hand towards the door. "Frankly, given what I am about to do, you're lucky I don't ask you to bring your balls to me on a silver platter."

He winced, but offered no further protest.

"I am sorry. I really am. Please, please, please forgive me."

"I accept your apology. But I do not forgive you. It will take time for you to earn it." She turned towards the door. "But first, I must earn us the reprieve from your foolish actions. I suggest that tonight, you do a lot of praying, and think about what it means to be a good husband. Be the kind of man that Jesus would be proud of."

Robert let out a soft sob as Leah slid out of his embrace.

o0o

Oskar Blackfeld smiled faintly to himself as he listened to the conversation next door, perking up in interest when Leah gave her ultimatum.

A man like Robert needed to be handled firmly. Many men were like that, though not all were as irresponsible as Robert were. In his business, it was important for him to assess his peers and inferiors, analyzing their actions and deducing how they might respond to certain provocations or rewards. In school, brute strength had never favored him, and he'd had to find other ways to navigate the system relatively unscathed.

He'd proven a keener student of the harsh realities of life than most, and profited handsomely for it. Once in a while, losing money was inevitable, but an intelligent man knew how to recoup his losses in one way or another, rather than compounding the debt like Robert Donaldson and his brothers had.

He almost laughed out loud as Robert sniveled for forgiveness, clutching to his wife. Leah was standing so that the camera caught much of her face, and he could read the annoyance etched on her features, and the firm set of fury on her brow.

As Leah and her husband left the room, he quickly hit a button, and the screen went blank, the audio falling silent with it.

"Come in," he called out after he heard the knock. Though his office shared much with the parlor, there was a distinctly more formal edge to it, two chairs in front of his desk that were less plush and inviting than the parlor furniture. "Be seated."

The couple silently obeyed his command. Leah was a lovely sight with her hair pulled back in a chignon, a simple black evening dress hugging her curves under the flowing, purple drape jacket she wore. He imagined these were possibly the nicest things she owned, aside from a church or funeral dress, but compared to his own clothing, the wardrobe between Leah and Robert was doubtless cheap.

Not that Leah didn't look presentable, of course. She'd made herself look nice without going overboard, and he truly appreciated that quality in a woman.

"So, what have you decided?" Mr. Blackfeld asked in a casual tone, as if asking them what they wanted off the lunch menu.

"To be frank, you have us in quite a hard spot, as I am sure you are aware of," Leah replied in a calm, controlled tone. "Especially since as I understand it, my part in this... arrangement does not simply cancel out the debt."

"The debt incurred by your husband and his family is substantial. But it did not have to be."

"No, it did not," Leah replied flatly before glancing at her husband. Mr. Blackfeld smirked to himself, steepling his fingers. "I could just say screw it all and let you at my husband's legs with a crowbar or whatever it is that might be used, but there are others who would be negatively impacted that had no more part in this than I did." She sighed and fiddled with the edge of her jacket, squaring her shoulders. "All I can say is that I hope you don't get too rough."

"Regardless of what I might have threatened your husband with, harming you is the last thing on my thoughts," he replied smoothly. "Mr. Donaldson, you may leave now. Go home."

Slowly, the man rose from his seat, glancing over at his wife.

"I hope I do not have to repeat myself," Mr. Blackfeld said quietly.

"Not at all. Good evening, sit." He turned from the desk and made his way to the door, the droop of his shoulders evoking the image of a thoroughly chastened dog.

Leah stared back at him, hands now folded in her lap, the paleness of her knuckles a visible sign of her distress. He sat back in his chair, regarding her silently.

o0o

She would not do anything until he said something. Although she had no dealing with criminal activity, it was impossible to not have heard of Mr. Blackfeld - or one of his companies or partners - if one lived and worked in the city, and at least a few of the rumors that swirled around him. Drug trafficking, racketeering, corruption, grafting, prostitution, and the like. But then he had plenty of legitimate business, so if he was indeed a criminal, he had an excellent front and money laundering system. Not that she should care, as she kept her head down and worked for a better life the old-fashioned way, with determination and elbow grease.

Actually, tonight, she had been given a pretty damn good reason to care about the existence of this bastard.

"Would you like a drink or cigarette?" he asked in a cordial tone, as if she was merely a guest for tea instead of a woman who'd just been coerced into sex with a man who had her husband and his brothers by their collective balls.

Leah had never done drugs, but right now she wondered if marijuana would improve her experience, due to what she'd heard about its relaxing effects. Then she might be more mellow for what she was about to do and not be completely traumatized by the experience.

"I would not object to a drink, thank you," she said. He rose from his feet and moved to a wooden cabinet, pulling out a bottle and two tumblers. She couldn't identify the label on the bottle, but it looked like high-end stuff.

"On the rocks?" he asked. She shook her head, and he poured some of the dark liquid in both cups before bringing them back to the desk. Their fingertips brushed together when he gave her a glass, and instead of going back to his seat, he leaned against the desk.

She lifted the drink, catching a whiff of finely-aged spirits. It burned as it slid past her tongue, but it came with a smoothness she had not thought possible, and her eyes widened slightly.

"Fifteen years-old bourbon," Mr. Blackfeld said before he took a sip of his own drink.

"It's very good. You're a man of fine tastes." She'd only ever had beer and wine coolers in the past. Conservative as her parents and most of their friends were, alcohol was actually one thing they imbibed in, at least in moderation.

He smiled faintly at that. "What is the point of living if you can not enjoy the finer things in it?" he asked.

"I can't argue with that." She took another sip and took the chance to study him more closely. His aquiline nose could be called beak-like, or if one wanted to be mean-spirited, a Jew-nose. His thick, dark hair was combed back neatly and tied back in a short ponytail. Dark gray eyes stared back at her, and she took another sip as she allowed him to take his measure of her. Her gaze moved downward, past broad shoulders into which Mr. Blackfeld's neck seemed to disappear. A dark blue-gray vest hugged a thick stomach, and well-tailored pants terminated at a pair of expensive-looking shoes.