Even in bright sunlight, the city’s beauty cannot be missed, and thousands of moving cars in the heavy traffic create a sense of urgency and chaos, along with a restless need to explore.
One of the reasons I won’t ever move to another city or state. Boston owns my whole heart.
Rafael pours himself some water, taking a greedy sip from the glass, and asks, “Would you like something to drink?”
“Are you a server now, Rafael? If she wants something, Elizabeth will bring it. Drink your damn water,” Orion snaps at him, and the man’s lips twitch as if he finds the entire situationamusing. “You have around five minutes to read through the paperwork. When the judge arrives, we will get married without any delay, or else the deal is off.”
I almost jump at his bark and step back, frowning at the man who is being a total asshole to me for no reason. It’s not like I was the one who offered him this marriage deal, and if he thinks I’m too plain for him, then he should find himself another bride.
No wonder he has such an empire by acquiring all these companies. You have to be heartless to destroy everyone around you.
I keep my mouth shut, though, since that’s the strategy I’ve learned best when it comes to powerful men.
Silence can never be misquoted or used against you, and that comes in handy when one grows up with a spoiled tattletale.
Scanning through the contract first, I find most of the points that my father already mentioned to me in his angry message earlier.
The marriage would last one year, with the whole world knowing. If reporters ask any questions, I should say it’s a love match, and no one should doubt my devotion to my husband.
However, I halt on clause number seven before my eyes clash with Orion’s, who rests against his desk, his arms crossed, his whole focus on me, and my stomach does several flips. “We will live in your mansion? Why? I was under the impression that we would lead separate lives.” According to rumors, he lives in an old castle far from the city. No one has been there in the past eighteen years since he never throws parties, unlike his late father. “I have a business to run.”
“Calling that failing library a business is an insult to the word.”
Anger washes over me at his condescending tone that implies he has zero respect for my work, and I snap before I can stop myself. “I’m sorry if all of us weren’t born to be corporatesharks, taking after our fathers and squashing struggling businesses left and right.”
His eyes darken at this, and I see him grip the desk tighter, yet his tone stays as detached and even as ever. “Yes, it’s a pity. And maybe if you used this sarcasm of yours with your family, you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.”This guy!“How many loving married couples do you know who live in separate houses?” The change of subject almost gives me whiplash, but it brings me back to the conversation at hand. “It’s a nonnegotiable clause.” He sighs. “My mansion is huge, and on most days we wouldn’t even see each other.”
He sounds thrilled at the prospect, and while I should be relieved, it pains me to know he has so little interest in me. It’s so insane that I shake my head and continue reading the contract. “Clause ten. I’m not allowed to date anyone during the duration of this marriage.” I glance at Orion when the desk seems to crack under his palm, while Rafael chuckles before taking another sip of his drink.
What’s so funny about that?
“You want to date other men while you’re married to me?” The way he asks this question, one might assume it’s hard for him to even fathom such a notion, and the words sound clipped.
What a jerk. He can’t imagine anyone wanting me?
“No. I mean…no.” I notice how the grip loosens a little bit, but then his knuckles flex around the desk again when I fire my next question. “Nothing in the contract mentions your private life. Would you be dating other women while you’re married to me?”
“I don’t date women.”
“Oh.”
Does he mean he’s into men? That would explain this whole…
“I have sex with them.”
My cheeks burn so hard they must be red, and an unfamiliar fury flies through my veins because hearing him say that scrapes at something inside me and awakens the green monster that I didn’t even know existed.
Is this jealousy? I can’t believe I can feel that over a guy I’ve met just minutes ago, and maybe I’m more delusional and foolish than I ever thought. “Well, either way, would you continue to have sex with other women while you’re married to me?”
We hold each other’s stare, and his full mouth tips into a smile that doesn’t reach his predatory gaze. “Why? You don’t want to share me?”
I bristle at this even though the idea of any other woman touching his scars makes me so mad. “I don’t care! I just want you to be discreet. Contract marriage or not, I won’t be disrespected and have everyone think my husband cheats on me.”
“Ah, I see. So as long as I’m discreet about it, I can fuck other women, and you won’t mind?”
“Do you have to be so crude?”
“Do you have to be such a Goody Two-shoes?”
