Keeping The Royal Treaty CHAPTER 7

I did a terrible mistake. I thought that the story is getting uninteresting, so I tried to create a very engaging plot, but I got too overwhelmed that I ended writing two scenarios in my last chapter. That’s really stupid of me. Anyways, here’s chapter 7 for you guys.

_____________

All I can do is writhe, a whimper escapes every time I feel an increasing wave of pain. My hands are shaking badly as I try to put pressure, to stop the blood gushing from my shoulder. I don’t know how deep the wound is, but I am in an agonizing pain.

I am not paying too much attention to what was happening around me until the car pulls into a complete stop. A gunshot cracks into the window, and I immediately duck as an impulse. Another fatal shot came from a different direction, and the next thing I know, the man beside me is shot in a whiplash. My eyes stayed glued to the dead man beside me, face barely unrecognizable, it was- it was crashed and distorted.

Everything is going too fast and I couldn’t keep up. I can hear voices outside. I hear people screaming, and I too want to scream, scream my lungs away, to tell everybody to stop.

There is a rattle sound from the outside, someone is trying to force the door to open. I cried for help, but in a matter of seconds, someone drags me out of my sit. “Francis, you okay?” the voice said. I tried to break free from his grasp, but he grabs me by the arm and I cower. 

“Shit! You’re bleeding,” he said. “I need to take you home.” Even in this situation, I find it funny when he mentioned ‘home’, I don’t recall having one.

 I feel light headed and tired, I couldn’t even walk. Dominique puts his arm around my waist, so I could lean on him if I lost balance. “Hey! hey! Relax, don’t faint on me. Shit! Don-“ 

I came to my senses, and I’m in pain, a terrible migraine. I want to sleep some more, but the pain is vigorously pounding in my head. I slowly open my eyes and scan the whole room, but it’s nothing but darkness. It didn’t take long before my eyes adjust, the room is unfamiliar. My eyes immediately froze when I catch a glimpse of a man standing across my bed. 

“How are you feeling?” I recognize the voice. Vince turns on the light and grabs something from the nightstand. 

“I don’t feel so good. My head hurts,” I writhe.

 “Here, drink this,” he said. He sits down on the bed while I try to pull myself to lean over the headboard. He hands me a cup of water and a couple medicines.  

“I’m sorry Vince.” He looks me in the eye but didn’t say anything, and I know that he is waiting for any compelling explanation for my foolish action, and I’m not even going to lie this time. “This shouldn’t have happened if I listened to you. I promise I won’t do it again,” I mutter. He stood up and fix the lapel of his jacket.

“Again with the promises. When will you listen? We’ve been doing the same charade over and over, and I am losing my patients. I told you there won’t be any ‘next time’ Francis. Yet again, you keep fucking disobeying me! I won’t hesitate to hang Hans’ head in this very room of yours,” he threatened. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growls.

“I wanted to go out for dinner, to this new diner. But Madelyn and James were there and… and everything turns into chaos. It wasn’t my intention to-” He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it, Francis”. I’m trying to control myself, trying not to cry in front of him, trying not to look pathetic but my body seems to betray me, tears prick my eyes. “Damn it! I warned you before, yet you never listen!”

“I know I fucked up!” I snap. “I regret what I did. I know you’re furious, but I am too. I saw people die, and and it scared the hell out of me,” I cried. “I know I’m to blame and it kills me that I can’t do anything to fix it. Jesus! I can never live in this-this fucked up life!”

“If you think that a seeing people die is horrendous, there is more to see, much more horrifying,” he stated. The thought of people dying sends shivers down my spine. 

“What about Hans? Is he safe? James?!,” I ask anxiously.

“That’s none of your concern. You should be thinking of yourself right now. They’ve been investigating the shooting last night, and for fuck sake, I don’t have time cleaning your mess. I won’t let this slip this time, Francis,” he says. 

Not again.

He is absolutely furious. I know I absolutely have no chance of winning. I look away and try to hide my face, cheeks pressed against my knees. I don’t feel pain anymore, I feel so exhausted, breathless. 

I am lost for words. My face is glued to my knees, my chin is trembling, tears spilling down my face. There is nothing I can do but cry. All I wanted is freedom, yet every time I try to pursue, the more it is taken away from me.   

I heard him walked away and shuts the door. For once, I am thankful that he chose to end this conversation. But of course, he didn’t fail to threaten me. 

Three days passed and I haven’t seen Vince nor Hans. I spent my days reading books, surfing different television channels, and most of the time, hanging on the patio; helping the caretakers tend the garden, and taking naps. I couldn’t sleep at night, afraid that every time I fall asleep I’m stuck in the same scenario; James with the knife, and unknown faces-dead faces. 

The cut isn’t very deep as I thought it would. The nurse told me that it will take two weeks to heal. 

With all the mishaps, I manage to make friends. The gardeners- an old married couple- have been working on this mansion for years now. I learned why Hans is very fond of them. And now, I too, admire them. They may not have much, but they are satisfied with whatever little things they have. 

“Mr. Donovan, lunch is ready,” said one of the maids, Vivienne. 

“Okay, thank you, Vivienne.”

 “Sir Vince and sir Dominique will be joining you,” she adds. 

Oh shit! “Uhm, I’m not really hungry. I’ll wait for supper.” She nods her head in response. I take my gloves off and wipe the sweat off my forehead.

I look at the perennial I just sow, who knew gardening can be fun. It’s something I do to relieve stress; something to keep my mind off things, something to keep me occupied, something to escape from the outside world.

“Are you not going to see your husband?” Adeline said. 

“No, not right now. Trust me, he does not want to see me.” 

“Oh hush, with those looks, no one can resist. It’s quite inequitable really, two good-looking men, married, live in a manor. Now, where is justice?” She raises a brow, and I just shook my head. If only she knew how miserable my life is. 

“Adeline, have you ever heard of… keeping a treaty?” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes at me. “You knew about it?”

“Yes, I do know about this silly treaty of yours. An arranged marriage? Such a cruel, absurd, imbecilic nonsense. Oh dear, I hope I’m not offending you,” she said.

I shrug. “No, not at all. I’m sure even the previous couple would say the same.”

“Indeed. In fact, I am friends with the previous candidates. It’s ironic really. Like you, at a young age, they were opposed to this arranged marriage; they plan to escape, they fought for their freedom, their rights, anything to run away from this arrangement. But they couldn’t do anything about it, could they?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

“But not everyone is opposed to this alliance. People use this as an advantage; to live in luxury, to have power and riches, to those who feel obligated to do so, and of course, to those who fell in love with their fellow accomplice; and soon had a family.”

“Adeline, you know so much of this treaty.”

“I’ve been around for decades and there are different endings, different stories. It’s wrong to use marriage as a business proposal. Marriage is sacred, it isn’t a ring worn or a paper signed.”

“I might be one of those who is obligated to do so. But I’m glad Vince acts more of a businessman rather than a hooligan,” I mutter. 

“That I agree. I know I am being sentimental right now, but I want you to know that it will always be your choice, it will be always up to you, how you write your story,” she replies.

“Say, is there any book called, ‘Husband- the lord of the underworld’?” I ask. “I can write one.”

“Good afternoon Mrs. Lockwood.” My eyes widen in alarm. Vince is standing behind us, his lips twist into a smirk. Is he listening to the whole time?

I hope not. 

“Good afternoon indeed. I haven’t seen you in a while, Vince. You look handsome as ever,” Adeline said.

“It’s good to see you too Adeline. How have you been?” Vince replies.

“Oh you know, same old same old, not until I met this handsome young man,” she says, eyeing me warily. “Why, you left your husband for three days! What is the matter with you?” 

“Busy.”

“Busy? I know you’re a busy man, but surely you can spare some time for your husband,” she argues.

“That won’t be necessary. I believe he is planning to write a novel,” he responds. “Francis and I have some business to attend with, so if you’ll excuse us.” 

“Of course. I will see you again Francis, well, you know where to find me. By the way, Hans told me that his son, Nolan, is coming for a visit. You should meet him.” 

As soon as Adeline mentioned Nolan’s name, something flashed beneath Vince’s hardened expression, but it didn’t take long before it disappears. A phone buzzed in Vince’s pocket, notifying him that a voicemail is sent to him. He listens to it immediately but didn’t forget to nod his head before he turns his back on Adeline, a simple gesture to excuse himself.

I did the same and followed Vince inside the manor, straight to the kitchen. He motions me to go on while he takes the phone call somewhere else. 

Dominique is sitting in one of the stools, across the mini bar, a bottle of wine in his hand. “You’re drinking in the middle of the day, don’t you think it’s quite early for that?” I ask. 

“If you think its too early to drink wine, you’re an amateur and we probably shouldn’t be friends,” he says. I laugh at his remark. He never ceases to make me laugh, no wonder people are fond of him. 

“Dominique, I didn’t get a chance to thank you, for saving me. I’m forever in your debt,” I said.

“Debt? Drink with me and you are free of debt,” he replies. If only Vince have the same demeanor. I pull the seat next to him and reach for a wine glass.

“Okay. I’ll have some of that then,” I mutter. I watch him fill my glass and continues to pour himself another round. “So, what is your agenda for today?”

“Vince and I are attending a party this evening. This bossy motherfucker is lucky to seal a deal to a business proposal. Fuck! I had enough of this fancy parties.”

I smile. “Have fun with that.”

“I doubt. Tho, there might be a couple of good-looking ladies out there. You should come.” 

I suppress my snort. “I’d rather not… I don’t think I belong in your world… I mean, business, guns, stuff…”

“It’s a party, I meant, fun, drinks, girls, stuff…If it helps to boost your confidence, people have been requesting your company.” Again, I frown, not convinced at all. Who would want my company? 

Before I had the chance to answer, Vince walks into the room and decides to make an announcement. “Change of plans, Francis and I have somewhere else to attend. You know what to do Dominique.”

Oh no. Something’s not right. 

“I shouldn’t have mentioned that. The possessive motherfucker,” Dominique murmurs. 

_______

Finally!

To those who request a longer chapter, there you are. 

I know that there are events that are unnecessary or irrelevant to the story(plot). Every chapter I post, I make sure that the story is moving forward. What do you guys think? Too fast? too slow? too irrelevant?

Everyone! I think it’s time to get to know the bad boy, Vince Damon Donovan. 

Please feel free to leave comments and please don’t forget to vote! Thank you!