Alexei nods. “Yes, Solnyshko. Is progress. But anyone who tries to hurt you, I'll feed them their own fucking teeth.”
The tension I’ve been carrying fades, and for the first time in weeks, I can breathe.
Alexei grabs another slice of pizza, then leans back and stares at me, unblinking. “You plan on staying married forever? Or you want us to kill your parents? Would solve problem quickly.”
If only it were that simple.
“Considered it myself. Unfortunately, my parents can't exactly disappear without it making national headlines. That’s why I married Henneman.” I grab another slice of pizza and take a large bite, chewing slowly beforeswallowing. “Just waiting for this merger shit to go away, then I’ll get a divorce.”
Zach flexes his tattooed hand, staring at his fingers. “Your parents going to let this all slide so easy?”
“They’re already demanding I get an annulment.” I stare at the half-eaten pizza in my hand. “What are they really going to do? Cut me off. Fine, whatever. My tuition is already paid for, and I got the first third of my trust fund last year. Don’t need their fucking help to finish out the year. Then after I graduate, I’ll be with the Capitals.”
My chest tightens with that familiar ache. The one I get whenever I'm unsure where my father's ambitions end and mine begin.
Joining Washington will allow me to provide for myself. Except if it isn’t my dream, will I really be free? Or will I be right where my parents wanted me to be all along?
I toss the partially eaten slice back in the box, appetite gone.
Viktor clears his throat. When I look over, he's got a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Speaking of being married, plan on having any fun with that husband of yours in the meantime?”
“Fuck off.”
Merci snorts as he opens a can of soda. “What, Raiyne didn’t expand your horizons? Heard you were bucking all over the place.”
“Drop it. Now.”
My teeth grind so hard they might crack. Nothing like that will happen with Henneman.
Ever.
Chapter 9
Ryan
I slide into a seat in the third row, fifteen minutes before Introduction to Ethics starts. Things were a lot easier in high school when someone made sure I had the right spot, the right setup, the right everything. But colleges don’t do IEPs, so now it’s on me to make sure I get what I need.
After pulling out my laptop, I open up the assigned reading. “Utilitarian Ethics: Mill vs. Bentham”. Already read it twice, margins full of notes. A routine my ISS teacher taught me in middle school. It works, so I stick with it.
Can't mess up my grades and not earn my degree.
Being an accountant means steady work. A real house someday. And hopefully room for a kid who needs it, like Larry gave me.
My chest tightens. I still haven't called my foster dad to tell him about the marriage. Been a week, and I keep dodging it when we talk. Tried practicing what to say, but the words never sound right.
How do Ieven begin to explain it without making him worry?
And I don’t want to drag Larry into this mess. He gave me a home when I lost everything, stepped up for me when no one else did. If Connor ever saw my foster dad as a threat . . .
Can't let that happen.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe I’ll say we eloped because we couldn't wait.
That's what Connor told the reporters, right? What they quoted in that “Walsh-Callahan Merger in Jeopardy After Heir's Surprise Marriage” article I read online last night? The one with our picture. Connor's hand on my waist. Me looking like a deer in headlights.
Hope Larry hasn't seen it.
“Fuck, morning classes should be illegal.”
