Well, that explains the last name. And the fact that Grace has never made a public appearance with the family. “And I’m supposed to feel…what?”
“Disgust for gold-digging whores? Like mother, like daughter!”
I study my nails nonchalantly for a moment. “There wouldn’t have been a problem if Nelson had kept his dick in his pants, though, would there? After all, he knew he was married with children. Guess Karie and you two kids didn’t mean much to him.”
Mick’s complexion is so red, it looks purple. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. As usual, he can’t think of anything clever to say. If he thought he could get away with it, he’d throw the first punch. But he knows I can fight. You don’t grow up with six brothers—one of whom is a kickboxer—and not know how to fight.
I hold Mick’s eyes just long enough to establish that he’s too chickenshit to do anything, then smile and turn to the hostess. “Noah Lasker. Party of seven.”
She smiles back. “I see it. Right this way.”
I follow her. Mick screams, “You got yourself a gold-digging, opportunistic, schemingwhorefor a fiancée! Soon she’s going to be your wife! Good luck with that, loser! She’ll fuck every guy in the city just because.”
Rage swells. I start to turn, but he scrambles away.Is it worth it to go after him?
“Would you like us to call the police?” The hostess’s words penetrate my red haze.
“No.” With a gigantic effort, I wrench myself back under control. “That was the DA, believe it or not. I doubt a call to the police would accomplish much.”
She shakes her head, muttering something, and takes me to the table where my brothers are. A few empty bottles stand on it. Noah stops in the middle of gorging on bread as I walk up.
“Did somebody wreck your new Lamborghini?” he asks.
Why does he think the only thing that gets me upset is wrecking a new Lambo?I haven’t bought one in at least two years.
“Worse. Much worse.” I grind my teeth at the memory of Mick’s insults. I taunted him back, of course, but the person I really want to mock ismyselffor not doing more due diligence. I should never have asked Grace to be my fake fiancée without checking her out more thoroughly. How could I have forgotten how devious my grandmother can be? I just assumed someone like her could never be the vapid spender of the family, not based on the way she dressed and spoke. But the best con artists never show their true colors. I should’ve learned after the kidnapping incident involving my cousins. “I’m stuck. I have to marry Grace Lain.”
I’ve already given it a lot of thought, and there simply doesn’t seem to be a good way to get out of it. But at the same time, do I want to end things like this? It wouldn’t materially damage Grace. She would still get to go back to her daddy and spend his money. So what if he’s embarrassed about the way she came into the world? He obviously cares enough to fork over twenty-five thousand bucks a month.
She could’ve kept on collecting that money and stayed out of my life. Instead, she set her sights on me, manipulated her way into becoming my wife. Well, I’m going to ensure she doesn’t get what she wants out of this marriage—money. She’ll have to pay with her own money if she wants anything. I’m tempted tocharge her for rent and utilities, but that would be beyond petty, even in my state.
The pregnancy is another bucket of gasoline over the fire. Does she think I’m going to buy her innocent act just because she can still look at me with seemingly guileless eyes? I’m not trusting anything out of her mouth without proof.
“Well… At least she’s not a Webber…?” Emmett says tentatively.
The other brothers nod.
Just thinking about how she fooled me sends my blood pressure into orbit. “She’s a fucking Webber in disguise! She misrepresented herself!”
“You sure? I’ve never heard of Grace Lain,” Emmett says.
Nicholas pours a whiskey and slides it in my direction. I knock it back.
“She’s the daughter Nelson Webber had with his side piece,” I grind out.
Grant frowns. “Do you have to marry her? There’s gotta be a loophole.”
My hands shake with suppressed rage. “She claims she’s pregnant with my baby.”
“Well… Is she really?” Noah asks. He can’t believe I would be so careless.
And I can’t either. There’s no way the baby’s mine. It was just a one-night stand. I’m fanatical about condoms because I refuse to have a child I’m not ready for. Nor do I want to behave like my father, throwing money at accidental children like that’s all there is to being a parent.
Every time I think about asking her to be my fake fiancée, I want to kick myself in the balls. “She thinks she’s won, but I’m going to ruin that conniving little bitch.” Both of my hands clench.
Noah slowly masticates some bread, a smidgeon of pity crossing his face. Bitterness flows through my veins. I don’t want his pity. I don’t want to be the object ofanyone’spity.
I am Huxley Lawton Lasker.Nobody is allowed to pity me.And I hate Grace for putting me in this situation.
