“Hostile takeover.” He chuckles when my forehead wrinkles, but then he slips his finger beneath my chin, tipping my face to him. “Be happy I’m giving you the amendments. You already knew how this would turn out when I showed up, Mercy. I didn’t spend three years hunting you down to let you go.”
RYKER
“What is the clause about this contract binding all past and future agreements?”
Fucking lawyers.
That is thefive thousandthquestion Mercy has posed as she reviews the fine print on every single page of our contract, which is actually worthless because I’ll be ensuring she adheres to all our rules—especially the ones regarding herneeds—with my own special methods. Still, I thought the legal document would set her at ease. But we’re nearing the end of our plane ride, and she’s still studying every goddamn word, so I missed the mark there.
Maybe myhostile takeovershouldn’t have been so amicable.
I shuffle Remy, who has fallen asleep against my chest, drooling all over my dress shirt, which fills me with an uncanny notion of heroism. I didn’t expect him to take to me so seamlessly this morning, but that time with him was everything I’d hoped it would be. A strong start. And when he crawled onto my lap and wrapped his teeny arms around my neck once we were smoothly in the air, my heart leaped from my chest.
If only matters with his mother were that simple. When we boarded, she made sure to put Remy between us, keeping physical distance however she could. We’re on a couch in the lounge area because he wanted to watch a movie. The seat he was occupying is empty now—aside from his bulldog stuffed animal—but I’m not pushing that boundary just yet.
I slant my head in feigned exhaustion. “It sounds as though you know exactly what that clause is about since you explained it within the question.”
She huffs, adorable even when beating something to death. “It’s odd wording. I’ve never seen that before. If past contracts had been signed—which, in my case, they have not—then why mention them here if they don’t pertain directly to this agreement?”
“Don’t read too much into it. Axel likes to take precautions to remind people that additional agreements do not negate the initial partnership, but are rather addendums to the original.” I can tell by the scrunch of her lips that she’s mulling that bullshit over as plausible, so I continue, “You should save these skills for next week, when you’re working. If you get the job. Paperwork was due an hour ago. That’s a dreadful first impression.”
That coaxes a laugh out of her. “Somehow, I think I’m a shoo-in no matter what, seeing as how my new boss’s brother kidnapped me.”
“Escorted, kidnapped. Potato, potahto.”
She shakes her head, exasperated—withme. “No one says potahto.”
“Exactly.” I dip my chin. “No one would call this kidnapping either. But if they did, I’m guessing those types of issues are covered in the contract too. Ironclad.”
“Which essentially proves the kidnapping claim.”
“You can have your woe-is-me tantrum when we get to the penthouse. Sign the damn thing.”
Her finger hovers over the keyboard, an indication she’s unable to commit without another objection. “We should have ground rules for what this”—her hand waves between us—“will look like. That’s how people succeed at thesearrangements. Clear expectations, which aren’t covered in the document. And who knows the truth?”
The truth is, everything about this engagement is real. She just needs to get on board.
“Don’t overcomplicate it. My brothers know the truth. And the only rule is that we behave like we’re engaged—faithful, happy, doting—not like you’ve been kidnapped.” My gaze latches on to hers, and I don’t miss the part of her lips—maybe she’s thinking up kinky amendments—so I smirk. “We’re on a time crunch. Sign.”
“Fine.” She adds her electronic signature and closes my laptop. “I need to text Ty. In about fifteen minutes, when Nelly discovers I’m gone, she’s going to alert him anyway.”
I hum my approval, urging her to contact him. I’ve been waiting for the last possible minute to avoid any type of intervention. That’s why I insisted we leave today. Once I get them to La Lune Noire, I’ll be able to breathe.
Ty is my brother-in-law, someone I respect. I will forever be indebted to him for hiding Mercy so well that Dalton didn’t stand a chance at tracking her down. I’ll also probably always hold on to some resentment that he refused to use my money, took her on pro bono, and kept me in the dark. From his perspective, it was noble. From mine, it was a betrayal that nearly killed me.
He made it right recently by agreeing to the bank transfer, whether he admits to knowing my endgame or not.
She pulls out her burner and messages him while I leer at the screen.
Alice: Hey! Going back to NOLA. Thought I’d let you know.
I’ll hand it to him. Less than a minute passes before he texts back, and she’s one of countless erasing clients, not to mention everything else he does.
Ty: How exciting! I bet you’re ready for the food. What will you eat first?
“What is the meal for being in danger?” I probe because I’m well acquainted with the intricacies of erasing. Everything is a system of coded check-ins.
She hesitates, and that pause shouts how terrified she is to let me in, which means she’s got escape plans simmering. It makes sense, considering all she endured, but as I nestle her son in my arms, it eviscerates me. How the fuck did I get lumped in with all the evil she’s encountered?
