Chapter 6: Disclosure

I'm lying on my stomach in bed with my legs up, eating Goldfish from a bowl. The tiny orange crackers make a satisfying crunch between my teeth as I chew loudly, eyes glued to the screen of my new iPhone. Hours have slipped away like water through fingers as I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Elden Ring boss versus boss videos.

"Man, the DLC bosses are too strong," I groan, shoving another handful of Goldfish into my mouth. "This is so lame. Malenia should be at least number 2 next to Consort Radahn."

The moonlight slips in through the shades reminding me i should shut them soon.

I sigh, clicking on 'Bayle the Dread vs. Radagon of the Golden Order. Gone sexual?'

"Radagon is gonna get his ass handed to him," I mutter through a mouthful of Goldfish.

I sigh, stretching a bit. "Wait... 'gone sexual'? What the fuck does that mean?"

I squint at the title, puzzled by the clickbait. Before I can investigate further, I hear the front door opening, the creak of the hinges followed by the soft thud as it closes.

"Oh dope, Claire's home," I say, relief washing over me at the thought of having company after a day of solitude.

I'm about to call out to her when I hear a strange noise coming from the living room, a muffled thump followed by what sounds like a struggle. Concerned, I roll off the bed, the bowl of Goldfish clutched protectively in one hand.

"Claire?" I call out, padding down the hallway. "Everything okay?"

As I round the corner into the living room, the scene before me freezes me in my tracks. Claire is on her knees, head bowed low. She's in tears. Caterina towers over her, one shoe planted firmly on Claire's back, pressing her down toward the floor. Off to the side stands Maddy, her face impassive, arms crossed over her chest.

I stand there, frozen in shock, my brain struggling to process the bizarre scene before me.

"Woah, woah, woah, what the hell is going on?" I exclaim my mouth still full of Goldfish.

Caterina's head snaps up at the sound of my voice, those crimson eyes locking onto mine with laser-like precision. She doesn't remove her foot from Claire's back. If anything, she seems to press down harder, causing Claire to whimper.

"Swallow and put the bowl down, alright, darling?" Caterina says smugly, her voice dripping with Honey even as her actions speak of violence.

"Okay," I mumble, hastily swallowing the mouthful of Goldfish and setting the bowl down on the nearby coffee table with shaking hands. The crackers feel like sawdust in my throat as I force them down.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," I say, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. My heart is hammering against my ribs so hard I'm surprised the women can't hear it.

Caterina's smile widens, revealing perfect white teeth that suddenly seem more predatory than beautiful. "Well, you've got it," she purrs, pushing her shoe harder into Claire's back. The pressure forces Claire's face closer to the floor as she lets out a strangled sob.

"Claire!" I cry out, taking an instinctive step forward.

Maddy shifts slightly at my movement, her hand drifting toward her jacket in a way that makes my blood run cold. Is she carrying a weapon? The thought freezes me in place, my muscles locking up with fear.

Claire's face is twisted in anguish, tears streaming down her cheeks and pooling on the hardwood floor beneath her. Between sobs, she manages to choke out, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The words seem directed at me rather than at the woman currently grinding a heel into her spine. Claire's eyes, red-rimmed and desperate, lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach twist.

"I'm so sorry, Adam," she continues, her voice cracking with emotion. "Please don't hate me. Please."

I feel like I've stepped into some bizarre nightmare. My new wife is being physically restrained on our living room floor, begging for my forgiveness while I stand helplessly by.

"What happened?" I ask, directing the question at Caterina, my voice surprisingly steady despite the fear coursing through my veins.

Caterina's crimson eyes flash with annoyance, her perfect brow furrowing slightly. She clicks her tongue against her teeth, the sound sharp and disapproving in the tense silence of the room.

"I told you to call me Cat earlier, remember?" she says, her tone dripping with condescension as if I were a child who had failed to grasp a simple instruction.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to slow down and think. Whatever game is being played here, it's clear that Caterina holds all the cards. If playing along with her bizarre demands will help defuse the situation, then that's what I'll do.

"Okay," I say, deliberately slowing my words. "Cat, what is going on?"

The change in her demeanor is immediate and unsettling. Her annoyance melts away like snow in sunshine, replaced by a radiant smile that transforms her face. She seems genuinely pleased by my compliance, like a teacher whose troublesome student has finally grasped a difficult concept.

"There we go," she purrs, her voice warm with approval. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Claire lets out another sob from her position on the floor, drawing my attention back to her pitiful state. "I'm so sorry, Adam," she whimpers, her voice barely audible. "Please don't hate me."

I kneel down to Claire's level, my knees hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. From this angle, I can see the full extent of her misery. Her short brown hair disheveled. Her eyes are wide with terror and shame, like a wounded animal caught in a trap.

"It's okay," I say softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. My fingers hover uncertainly for a moment before making contact with her quivering form. "Whatever it is, we'll work it out."

The gentleness in my voice seems to make Claire cry even harder, her shoulders shaking violently with each sob.

Caterina lets out a laugh. She removes her foot from Claire's back, allowing my wife to sit up slightly.

"Ask your wife what she's done, Adam," Caterina suggests. She crosses her arms over her ample chest, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation as if she's watching a particularly entertaining show unfold before her.

I turn back to Claire, trying to keep my expression supportive despite the fear and confusion swirling in my gut. "It's okay," I repeat, my voice steady and reassuring. "Tell me what happened."

Claire's face crumples anew, fresh tears welling up and spilling over. Her hands reach for mine, clutching them with desperate strength. Her palms are clammy with sweat, her fingers trembling against mine.

"I have a gambling problem," she finally chokes out, the words seeming to physically pain her as they leave her lips.

I feel surprised, but not that much so. I mean, I literally barely know her, and I already know she borrowed money from my sister.

"Okay," I say simply, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.

Claire stares at me, her eyes wide with disbelief at my calm reaction.

"Oh, is that all you're going to tell him, Claire?" she asks, her voice sharp with mock disappointment. "Don't you think your husband deserves the whole truth?"

Claire looks at me, her eyes swimming with shame and regret. "I owe Caterina four hundred thousand dollars," she confesses, each word seemingly ripped from her throat.

The number hits me like a physical blow. Four hundred thousand. The amount is so absurd, so astronomical that it takes a moment for my brain to fully process it.

"Four... hundred... thousand?" I repeat slowly, the words feeling strange and unwieldy on my tongue.

Claire nods miserably, her chin quivering. "I kept losing," she whispers, "and I kept thinking I could win it back. But I just kept digging myself deeper and deeper."

I run a hand through my hair, trying to process this information.

'That's a lotta cheddar.' I sigh in my mind.

And yet, as shocking as the revelation is, I find myself oddly calm. Growing up with an alcoholic father, I've seen firsthand how addiction can warp a person's judgment, how it can make the irrational seem perfectly logical. The pattern is familiar, the secrecy, the shame, the escalating consequences.

'Addiction is a disease. Without treating it, she's powerless.'

"Alright," I say softly, reaching out to rub Claire's back in small, comforting circles. "We'll figure this out."

Claire stares at me, her expression a mixture of disbelief and desperate hope. "You're not... you're not angry?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"I'm surprised," I admit, continuing the gentle motion of my hand on her back. "But anger isn't going to help us right now."

Claire's face crumples completely at my words, and she breaks into fresh, heaving sobs. Her entire body shakes with the force of her anguish, making her seem smaller, more fragile than ever.

"There's more," she chokes out between gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as if she can't bear to look at me. "There's more, and it's so much worse."

"It's okay," I say, my voice steady despite the growing knot of dread in my stomach. "I promise I won't get mad. Just tell me."

From the corner of my eye, I can see Caterina's expression darkening. My kindness seems to irritate her as if she was expecting, perhaps even hoping for, a dramatic explosion of anger. Her crimson eyes narrow slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval.

Claire looks to Caterina, her eyes wide with desperation. "It's too much," she whispers, her voice breaking. "I can't tell him. I just can't."

Something shifts in Caterina's expression, a flash of triumph quickly masked by a veneer of sympathy that doesn't quite reach her crimson eyes. "That's fine," she purrs, her voice silky smooth. "I can do the rest."

Before I can react, Caterina glides to me. She crouches down beside me. With lightning speed, her hand shoots out, fingers gripping my chin with surprising strength. She forces my face up, making me look directly into those hypnotic red eyes.

There's something unhinged in her expression, a manic quality that sends ice through my veins.

"Your wife," she says slowly, savoring each word like a fine wine, "has sold you to me to pay off her debts."

The world seems to tilt sideways. My stomach drops as if I've just plummeted down the first hill of a roller coaster. I blink rapidly, certain I must have misheard.

"What?" I manage to croak out, my voice barely audible.

Claire lurches forward, her hands reaching out as if to pull me back from the edge of a cliff. "Only for four months!" she cries out, the words tumbling from her lips in a desperate rush. "Just four months, and then everything will be fine again!"

I whip my head toward her, breaking free of Caterina's grip. "What?" I repeat, louder this time, confusion and disbelief warring in my mind. The word hangs in the air between us, a simple question that seems to contain multitudes.

My eyes dart around the room, seeking some sign that this is all an elaborate prank. Maddy stands emotionlessly by the door, her face a mask of professional detachment. She might as well be waiting for a bus, not witnessing the sale of a human being.

I turn back to Caterina, who's watching me with undisguised glee, like a cat that's finally cornered a particularly elusive mouse.

"You're all mine," she whispers, her voice thick with possessive hunger. She reaches out again, her fingertips brushing against my cheek in a gesture that feels surprisingly tender.

I stagger to my feet, feeling like I've been hit by a truck. My legs are unsteady beneath me, but I manage to stand, pulling away from both women.

"Four months?" I repeat, my voice hollow with exasperation.

Claire remains on her knees, her face a mask of misery and shame. Tears continue to stream down her cheeks, dripping onto the hardwood floor.

I turn to her, my expression hardening into a frown. "Is this really what you want?" I ask, my voice low and controlled despite the storm raging inside me.

Claire doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she places her hands flat on the ground, bowing her head so low that her forehead nearly touches the floor. The position is one of complete submission, of utter supplication.

"Please, Adam," she begs, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please do this for me. I don't have any other way out."

As I watch her grovel, something shifts inside me. The sympathy I felt moments ago begins to curdle, transforming into something colder, more distant. There's something pathetic about her now, something that makes me recoil internally.

'She's literally selling me like I'm property,' I think, the realization sending a chill down my spine.

I let out a sigh, gazing at Caterina with a blend of resignation and defiance. "Are you gonna do weird shit to me like put me in a torture chair, slicing my Achilles, and then giving me a chance to escape, only to laugh at me and shut the door just as I reach it before punishing me for attempting to flee?"

Caterina's perfectly sculpted eyebrows shoot up in shock, her crimson eyes widening to almost comical proportions. She stares at me for a long, silent moment before letting out a sharp bark of laughter.

"What the fuck? No!" she exclaims, genuine amusement dancing in those hypnotic red eyes. "My God, Adam, what kind of person do you think I am?" She shakes her head.

She takes a step closer to me, her expression softening into something almost unguarded. "You will be treated as my lover for four months," she says, her voice dropping to a silky purr. "And you will treat me with the love and kindness you showed your wife just now."

Her words hang in the air between us, heavy with implications. I glance at Claire, still on her knees, tears streaming down her face. She looks utterly broken, a shadow of the woman who confidently seduced me in the shower just yesterday.

"What exactly does 'treated as your lover' mean?" I ask, turning back to Caterina.

"It means," Caterina says, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation, "that you will live with me. You will dine with me. You will sleep in my bed." She takes another step closer, her scent, something expensive and intoxicating, washing over me. "And yes, you will make love to me."

Claire lets out a choked sob at these words but makes no move to object. Her acceptance of these terms feels like an even further betrayal, cutting deeper than I would have expected, given how little I truly know her.

"And if I refuse?" I ask, my voice steadier than I feel.

Caterina's smile doesn't waver, but something shifts in her eyes, a flash of steel beneath the velvet. "Then your wife's debt remains," she says simply. "And I will be forced to collect it through... other means."

Silence falls heavy over the room as I process this information. The weight of the situation settles on my shoulders like a physical burden, pressing me down, making it hard to breathe.

Caterina watches me with those unsettling crimson eyes, patient as a spider waiting for its prey to exhaust itself in its web. There's a smugness to her posture, a certainty that she's already won. Maddy remains by the door, her presence a silent reminder that even if I wanted to run, there would be consequences.

"She borrowed money from my sister, too," I finally say, my voice flat and emotionless.

Claire's head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock and guilt. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah," I confirm with a nod. "At the hospital."

Claire's face crumples with shame, and she lowers her gaze again, unable to meet my eyes. Her shoulders slump further, making her look even smaller and more pathetic than before. The sight of her, so broken and defeated, stirs a complex mixture of emotions within me, pity, disappointment, and a strange, detached curiosity about the woman I supposedly married.

"How much?" I ask, my tone clinical, as if we're discussing nothing more significant than a grocery bill.

Claire doesn't look up. She keeps her head bowed, her forehead nearly touching the floor, in a posture of complete submission. "Thirty thousand," she admits.

Caterina lets out a low whistle, her perfectly shaped eyebrows rising in genuine surprise. "Wow," she says, a note of admiration in her voice as if Claire's capacity for financial self-destruction is somehow impressive.

I straighten my shoulders. If I'm going to be traded like property, I might as well negotiate the terms.

"Add that to the four months," I say firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "Pay off Jessica's thirty thousand, and I'll be as obedient as you want."

Caterina's eyes widen slightly, a flash of surprise quickly replaced by delighted jubilation. Her ruby lips curve into a smile that's both seductive and victorious. She reaches out, her fingertips brushing against my cheek in a gesture that feels possessive.

"Deal," she purrs, the word dripping with satisfaction.

I turn to Claire, who remains crumpled on the floor, her body shaking with silent sobs.

"And don't hurt her," I add, my voice hardening as I look back at Caterina.

Caterina tilts her head, studying me with those unsettling crimson eyes. "I have no intention of hurting her," she says smoothly. "She's of no interest to me anymore. I have what I want." The way she looks at me as she says this makes kind of turns me on. But it feels like a bad time.

As I gaze at Claire I can't help but notice she looks so small, so fragile, huddled on the floor in her rumpled work clothes.

"And you," I say, my voice softer but no less firm. "You need to get help. This is disgusting. I was just raped, and now you're selling me. Please go to Gamblers Anonymous or whatever the fuck it's called."

"Yes, of course," she chokes through tears, nodding frantically. "I'll get help. I promise. I'll go to meetings. I'll do therapy. Whatever it takes." Her words tumble out in a desperate rush, each one punctuated by a small, hiccupping sob. "I'm so sorry, Adam. I'm so, so sorry."

She looks utterly broken, kneeling there on our living room floor, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Caterina watches this display with thinly veiled amusement, her crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She seems to relish Claire's breakdown, drinking in her misery like a succubus of sadness.

"Come on, darling," she purrs, turning to me with a predatory smile. "A new life awaits."

She reaches out, her hand finding my hip with unfailing precision. Her touch is warm through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, her fingers curling possessively around the curve of my hip bone. With gentle but insistent pressure, she pulls me close until we're standing flush against each other.

Up close, Caterina's height is even more impressive. She towers over me, her crimson eyes gazing down with triumphant hunger. The top of my head barely reaches her chin, forcing me to tilt my face up to meet her gaze.

Against my will, I feel a warmth spreading through me at her proximity. There's something about being so close to her that feels oddly right like finding a puzzle piece you didn't know was missing. I feel kind of snug in her partial embrace, my body responding to her despite the chaos in my mind.

'Come on, Adam, what the fuck, buddy?'

"I'll see you at work, Claire," Caterina says mockingly as we step outside.