Husband.
Fuck that word.
Henneman’s nothing more than a legal technicality, a loophole meant to destroy my father's plans. And Viktor’s going to ride that term into the ground. The asshole lives for this kind of shit.
But I need to stop balking at the term if this marriage is to be believable.
“Myhusbandwill get his ass into gear before the season starts.” I squeeze another stream of water into my mouth, harder than necessary.
Viktor nudges Zach. “Eli and Merci are going to lose it when they hear about this.”
Zach grunts. “Don’t stir shit.”
Viktor rolls his eyes. “I already promised Feisty Mouse I’ll play nice with Merci. But your little scorpion trying to kick Walsh’s ass will be just as enjoyable for me.”
I smirk, just a little. “When did hell freeze over?”
Zach puts down his water bottle. “At the wedding. Merci tackled Viktor into the wedding cake.”
I sputter, almost choking. “No shit.”
“Fuck you, Knight. You’re just pissed you lost that bet. Can’t wait to see what Merci has in store for you.”
I smirk, staring at my friends. “What bet?”
Viktor smacks our friend in the chest with the back of his hand. “The dumbass bet that I would actually behave. Me.” He scoffs, glaring at Zach. “Did you honestly think Becks being there would magically transform me?”
“Don’t be so proud of yourself,” Zach deadpans.
Viktor waves him off and zeroes in on me. “Anyway, so what's next in this brilliant plan of yours?”
“Announcing my marriage at the press conference next week. It should put an end to whatever nonsense my parents and the Callahans agreed to.”
This all better be over quickly because I didn’t fully know who I was marrying. And in the Walsh family, one miscalculation is all it takes to lose everything.
Chapter 6
Connor
The elevator climbs toward the forty-second floor of Walsh International Holdings, my family’s empire. Been coming here since I was little, always expected to smile and play the perfect heir.
Today, I'm about to blow it all to hell.
Henneman is pressed against the wall, probably wishing he were anywhere but here. His cheap navy suit doesn’t hide the way his shoulders bunch, the way his throat works when he swallows.
He disappeared again last night. Came back early this morning with shadows under his eyes dark enough to be bruises. Wherever the fuck he went, he didn't sleep.
At least I was productive, placing a hidden camera in the room while he was gone. Can’t afford another surprise, another miscalculation. I need to know what I’m working with.
“You look like you’re heading to your own execution.” My voice comes out flat, bored even.
He lets out a breath. “Feels like it.”
“Remember what we discussed.” I step in front of him and straighten his tie. “Smile. Hold my hand when I reach for yours. Don’t speak unless someone asks you a direct question.”
His amber eyes meet mine. “And if I can't?”
“You will. Because I own your future.”
