Arranged: Bound By Contract (girlxintersex)

Chapter 42

Chapter 42
Stella POV


Mateo opened both car doors, allowing Nathalie and I to enter. My parents stand on the side, presumably expecting to be scolded. They appear and act like two adolescents. Nathalie crept in and closed the door. Mateo glares coldly at me.

"You don't understand—"

"Sit down and do not let me hear your voice for the rest of the evening. I'm disappointed in you."

"Disappoint—"

"What did I say, Stell?" She rasped and clenched her nose. It was her usual thing. I walked towards the door. I stood just in front of her. We both looked each other down. Both are not baking down. However, she appeared to be on the verge of putting me into a garbage bag.

"I am not going in."

"Stella," my mother snarled. I glanced sharply at her over my shoulder, but she chose to ignore it. "Obey her and get inside the car."

"I'll only talk to her like that from now on."

She clapped a cuff over her lips and looked down at the ground. "Don't let me look like a bad wife. Don't let the police shove you into this fucking car." Her menace emanated from her like a nuclear explosion. It makes me feel numerous things. Horny, in the heart of it all. There's also hatred.

Police shove me into the car?

"You are such a control freak."

Her head was held high, as if she lived up to the moniker.

Normally, people struggle to avoid being labeled as "red flags," but not her. She was attempting not to 'Police shove' me into the car.

I give up. When we go home, we will debate it out before kissing and making up. I was looking forward to it. I slide inside the car. She slammed it. She walked up to my parents. I make sure to thrust my head outside, not disguising my want to hear what she has to say.

"This is difficult to say. Not difficult to say. But it's difficult for you to hear." She begins. Her fingers were linked together, and she stood with such strength that it made my towering father appear little.

"You will not see her again after tonight. I don't want you to contact her if it's unnecessary."

I know I told my father this. However, it was motivated solely by rage. I did not mean this. Not her, though. Her remarks and the way she looks indicate that she wasn't kidding. She can't do that? Ah! She can. She owns me. She's throwing money at them, so we're all forced to obey.

"Why?" My father, with his hand hidden away, was presumably trying to hide his uneasiness, and my mother sounded really wounded. He just nods. "We did nothing?"

"Paris, please." My father whispered, as if he had accepted his fate of not seeing me again.

How could they stand there and allow this to happen? Ah! She paid for me. I hit my head! Why do I always forgetting.

"No, I do not want to hear that. That is my daughter."

I rolled my eyes; it's hilarious how she wanted to play mom and daughter. It was too late, regardless of whether I was married to a control freak.

"Remember where you're standing, Mrs. Glazed." Mateo spoke modestly. "Come when you're expected to come to do business. You can speak with her then. But from now on, don't call or speak to her. This is not the life I want her to be a part of anymore."

What fucking life?

As I saw my parents nod like children, I struggled with admiration and fear. They were older. Mateo should have shown respect, but it was the opposite. That is something that money can do. Money gave her authority, allowing her to control anybody in the room. Your social standing is irrelevant. It is about the money. It speaks for her. And her fist, too.

"You are free to say your final goodbyes. I will make certain that she does not communicate with you in any way. Do not make this tough. Don't make me have to remove my hand off the table."

"We understand."

She gave a low bow and led them to the car with her hand. However, by the time they should have spoken to me, I had pulled the vehicle window up and burst into sobs.

I felt Nats soft arms wrapped over my neck. I needed it again. I clung to her arms for dear life. My sob drowned out my mother's apologetic remarks. It was too late; this demonstrated she owned me. There is no escaping. There's no going back. The only thing to do was quarrel with her.
**************
When Mateo parked the car. She stepped out and opened the door for Nathalie. She hugged me close the whole time.

"Let's go, Nathalie."

However, the girl wouldn't let me leave. The tightening of her arms told me she was worried. I wasn't terrified, on the other hand. Mateo was not going to hurt me, I knew that. If she intended to hurt me, she would have done it for a long time. However, not allowing me to visit my family should have been my decision.

"Let my wife go." Mateo snapped.

I scowled at her; she didn't see it, but she appeared to feel it, pushing down on her, hoping it could shrink her to the size of an ant and then put her in a bottle and allow the restricted quantity of air, along with the shaking, kill her.

"Now!" She let out a roar. Her arms suddenly detached themselves from my neck, leaving me feeling despondent and icy.

"I am sorry."

I wasn't sure who she was telling that to. But I believe it would be Mateo. She accompanied her to her doorstep, ensuring her safety.

She was strolling over the damp lawn, and the sprinklers appeared to have gone off just as we went out. I got out of the car and headed for the door. When the door needed to be unlocked with the key, which she possesses, I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment. She groaned as she opened the door, and I entered as soon as it did.

Only for her to grab me before I could completely enter the home.

"What do I say about making other people touch what is willfully and lawfully mine."

"Willfully? Will-fully?" I responded with a look of astonishment. I knew about the legally portion, and it didn't feel that way, but I wasn't sure about the willfully part.

"It was just a fucking dance, grow up."

"Only a dance. Just-a-dance?" She yelled, but I saw it as a total joke. You're always pushing out this messed-up part of me." Her fingers were like eagle claws, slamming my chest against the wall. "What does it take to fucking be a wife?"

"Because I'm not a wife!" I shouted. "I only want to be a free girl! A free fucking girl! I want to go to the casino every day and serve the tables while flirting with the men. And you've basically distanced me from my family."

"That's correct, since I own you!"

"Could you quit speaking about it, and not be so proud? On your fucking pedestal, about it. I know you own me. I loathe it, and I despise you!" My fingers sought to drill the words into her pores as I shouted angrily at her.

"You know what you are, Stella." She moved closer to my face. I pushed myself ahead as well.

"Who am I, Mateo? I am the owner of myself."

"A fucking ungrateful girl!"

"I am not! Because who, in this day and age, wants to be owned?"

"Why don't you see that I'm trying to be a good wife?"

"Good wife?!" I tried to smack her hands away, but they were clearly plastered to my chest. "I receive no honeymoon, and on the first day, you forced me to wear a maid's uniform and bark like a dog before I had even taken off my filthy bridal gown! Do I look like a dog to you?" I gave up trying to shove her hand away and focused on what I could control: my tears.

Her eyes are like bullets, shooting at me with furious silver. "Because you behave just like this. Not a lady. A fucking dog."

"And you should not have married the dog!"

"You're really missing the point, Stella, and why I actually married you. But I could cut it short. I divorce you now, and you are nothing. Your family is going to push you to leave because you believe a serving table is sufficient in their view. It's not. Your parents are money-hungry, and you should understand that they tossed you out to me for money."

"And you're not better than them."

"You're right. Because I am your fucking shelter. But you are fucking stupid, just like half of the girls in the privileged town. Who, just want to whore your body about."

"It is my body. This is my life!" I cried. She drew her hand away.

"Then do what you want with it. But not here." She snapped away and began pulling off her clothing. I followed behind her, pursuing her and doing my best to grasp onto her hand. I was so turned on.

"What is it intended to mean?" We were inside the room. "Are you kickin' me out?"

"That's what you want, correct?" She snarled as she took apart the shirt, her shoulders breaking free, and I couldn't help but fantasizing about her sexually.

I jumped on her, lips unmoving. I kiss and suck. But it's like kissing: soft but firm concrete. Her body feels chilly and rejected.

"Kiss me back. Damnit!"

"No, I do not want you!" Her push was light, yet it felt hard. I detest it. How dare she defy me. This was not going as planned with the ride coming over. We were meant to kiss, and I gave her cock a rock hard feel before rolling over and falling asleep again. But she does not want me.

"Why?" I gasped.

"You aren't the woman I desire. And since you are unwilling to be the woman I desire, I want you to stay as far away from me as possible."

She headed to the contract. "This is right!" She remarked while holding it up.

"No," I shouted. "Don't!"

"So why shouldn't I? "That's what you want."

My tears fall. "No, it is not what I want. I have never done this before. And I don't think I'll make a decent wife. We didn't start well. But please do not do this. I will not speak to anyone. Look." I mentioned pulling out my phone. "I'll wreck it. I'll simply be with you." I muttered, grabbing for my phone from the nightstand and placing it on the floor to drive my heels through it.

"I did not suggest to isolate yourself."

"Isn't it exactly what you want?" I asked, my heel in mid-air, ready to hit my phone.

"No. I want a fucking wife. Not something to control."

Is she kidding me? All she's been doing is manipulating me. She bended and picked up the phone. She throws it upon the bed. "I am going to sleep." She murmured. How could she have just closed things up when I could still sense the shadow of unresolved tension?

"We're not done."

"We are; I am going to sleep on the sofa, and I do not want anything to do with you." She snapped.

"What do you want?" I quickly force my body in her direction in order to halt her. "I will give it to you. A baby? Right? I will give you the kid. Right now?"

"I do not want it like this. Please leave me alone!"

"Please! What do you want?"

"I've already told you."

"You can control me then." I was essentially throwing myself out there like a stoplight girl. I really didn't want that tension between us. Her gaze fixed on me. "Ok, no control then. We reaffirmed our commitment right here, right now, and we're starting afresh, but without the maid uniform and me barking like a dog."

Her expression indicated that she was thinking about it. "I'll willingly become your wife. I will cook, and—"

"There is so much more to being a wife."

"I'll get your—"

"More than that." She interjected.

"I will learn. I will try. I will endeavor to be a decent wife. Please stay with me tonight and every other night."

What was I saying right now?

She exhaled.

"Should we recite the vow?"

"You already have. You just have to mean it." She pecked my cheeks. I was confused. She worked her way around me, and I grabbed her arm. "I am just going to close the door?"

I looked at the evident open door. I gave a troubled nod. I waited for her to close the door. We both moved to the bed together. As I got closer to her, tears threatened my eyes again. I should face up to it. I did not want to lose her. I'd be nothing. Even if I didn't love her really, I couldn't let her abandon me. It was the benefit.