Arranged to Him

Mr. Philanthropist

"I'm usually not alone," I said quietly, a bit surprised from being attacked and realizing he had been watching me this whole time.

"If you want to be in America, you have to learn to be a safe, foolish girl. I can't protect you if you want to pretend you're a single woman." He snapped, shaking my shoulders, his anger tangible and his expression wild compared to his normal self-control.

"If you knew I was here, why didn't you force me to go home?" I asked, ignoring his temper tantrum.

"What?"

"Well, why did you let me stay?" He was silent for a long moment, and he let go of me backing up.

"I hurt you. You had the right to leave." He explained much calmer.

"Perhaps I was waiting for you to follow me and show me you love me," I said firmly, folding my arms. He seemed truly regretful, and as his anger died down, I could feel his sadness come through.

"I will just hurt you again." He admitted honestly.

"I am toxic, self-centered, and difficult to deal with. You would be better off with someone else. It's not right of me to ask you to come back." He said much more quietly now.

"I don't want you hurt, though, and I CANNOT let you stay here. No man can touch you, Anaya, without my permission. I am your husband, and you can't expect me to stand aside while you put yourself in danger." He told me without room for arguing, grabbing my arm harshly and yanking me to follow him.

"Um...who are you, and where do you think you're going with her?" Kelcy asked, stopping us before we could leave.

"This is my wife, and she's coming with me," James growled, not liking her attitude. He tried to go around her, but she sidestepped him stubbornly.

"This is a shelter, a safe space. She can stay here as long as she wants." Kelcy retorted back, having no idea who she was dealing with.

"Oh, safe, is it? Why did that psycho try to force her into his room, then? Why don't you take care of your people, and I'll take care of mine." Her eyes widened, and she glanced down the hall to see Ponte in a ball on the floor.

"Fucking hell. Avery! Can you check him! You are not going anywhere with her. I'll have you trespassed if I need to." She said without fear despite the fact that he had just attacked someone and looked like he would do the same to her any second.

"Trespass me? Go ahead and try that. I own this shelter. I own the whole building, actually. I own the buildings across the street; if you walk out that door, I own everything your eyes can see. By all means, call the police. Who do you think gives them the grants to protect this area?" He said coldly, his icyness having absolutely no effect on Kelcy. Her jaw dropped, and she shrieked excitedly, throwing herself at my husband and giving him a huge hug, drawing the attention of the entire dining room filled with homeless people.

"Mr. Bramer! Oh my God, I can't believe I'm meeting you. I'm your biggest fan. What you've done for the community cleaning up the drug problem... you're not like other rich people, you know; you never forgot your roots. Can you sign this...umm...I just have a receipt from the thrift store, but still sign it. My mom won't believe this!" She said, releasing him only to shove a crumpled receipt into his hand desperately.

We had a crowd of people surrounding us, no doubt wanting the same. He glared at me, pissed but grabbed a pen from one of the men and started signing random things people brought him, papers, dollar bills that were in countless strippers' shirts, and even a wheelchair. For every person, he asked their name and if there was anything he could do for them, and he handed me his phone to write down their responses.

"We need some more socks for Eleventh Street. I also need some cigarettes, can we get some? Oh, what about somebody to come treat the bedbugs?" One old man in a wheelchair asked him excitedly, the smiles on everyone's faces similar to kids who had just met Santa. James paled at the mention of bedbugs.

"I see, of course. How is your foot doing?" He asked, noticing the bandaged foot.

"It's dead. Not much to report." He said, pushing down the bandage to show the blackened skin.

"Make a note to send over a doctor. I have the monthly health clinics. Why don't you go?" James asked curiously, examining the foot without a second thought.

"The elevator in the subway is closed and has been for months now. I don't suppose you can do anything for that, can you?" He asked hopefully. James gave me a nod, and I wrote that down also.

"I'm sure I can manage something, Mr. Smith." He said confidently without his usual coldness.

"Apologize to Mr. Bramer and his wife." One of the cleaners said, dragging Ponte over, who looked like he had been punched a few more times after James had finished with him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit on your woman, but in my defense, I thought she was single." He said stupidly.

"He's banned from my properties, Kelcy. He can stay on the streets for all I care." He told my friend, who nodded, only too happy to throw him out.

"Wait, how was I supposed to know. Man, this is fucked up." Ponte yelled, fighting even as he was quite literally thrown out by a few of the older bulky men.

"I think I need to wrap this up, Anaya," James said as more people poured in, having seen on social media he was there. He had been utterly composed up until then, but I noticed he swayed a bit and gripped my arm to steady himself. I had smelled that he had been drinking, but it seemed to be just hitting him. I had assumed he was drinking some hours earlier, but clearly he had been drinking while watching me outside, stalking me.

"Right. Well, I'm so sorry, everyone, but I'm not feeling well so I must leave. I know, don't be so sad, it's been wonderful working with everyone! I will be back soon, I promise!" I assured everyone, earning myself groans. I pushed through the crowd assertively and dragged my drunk husband outside.

"Thanks." He said lowly, stumbling slightly even though I went slow.

"It's whatever. I suppose I should get you home." I said with a deep sigh, caught off guard by how the night ended up. He stopped walking. His shock was tangible, even in the horrible street light.

"Please come home."

"James, I'm not ready," I told him without question.

"Anaya. I can't function without you. You are my weakness. Yes, I originally married you to trade you for my sister, but I fell in love with you." He told me, leaning against a brick wall for support, his handsome features full of pain and honesty. He inhaled sharply and pulled me to lean on him.

"When did you decide you wouldn't just use me and discard me, James? At what point did I become a human to you and not just a pawn in your master plan?" I asked harshly, fighting him, not wanting to touch him. He was quiet for a long moment, and he ran his hand into his hair, agitated, clenching his jaw.

"I don't know. There was no specific moment. It was wrong of me." He confessed.

"Tell me you won't lie to me again."

Silence.

"Exactly. You regret me finding out. You don't regret hurting me. If you really regretted it, you wouldn't even consider lying again." I snapped, my emotions rolling over me like a roller coaster. I normally could hold back, but something about him made that impossible, made me forget my control.

"For my family, I would do anything. Say anything. Break any law. Lie to anyone. Destroy anyone. I can only promise you are my family now. I will protect you with my life." He said softly, showing a vulnerability he normally hid.

"I won't ever ask you to go to Martin's house. I just want you back." He begged, pulling me tighter to him.

"If you had ever asked...I would have helped you." I told him quietly. He seemed truly surprised.

"Why?"

I wouldn't tell him I loved him, not at that moment. I backed up and started walking, the long trek to the apartment filled with his tipsy missteps and silence.