Edgar fell into step beside him toward his office.
"She's always had that effect on others." Edgar's voice was even, the voice of a man who had chosen his terrain and was crossing it regardless. "But she's never aware of it."
"How...commendable."
The cynicism in Olivio's tone was unmistakable, but Edgar didn't mind. Girls like Chelsea always did seem too good to be true, and it was why such reactions were to be expected.
"You don't have to believe me now. You'll see it for yourself."
Olivio didn't answer, and this, too, was to be expected. Whereas his older brother Aivan was once infamous for possessing an explosive temper, Olivio was the type that simmered, the depths of his rage dangerously unpredictable.
And so Edgar waited until they were inside Olivio's office before speaking again.
"I'm sorry, son. I have no excuse. I chose to deceive you, and I took advantage of your trust."
Olivio listened in brooding silence as Edgar laid everything out.
Chelsea Regis had been nineteen years old when a car accident had put her in a coma. No parents—-her father had died the year before, her mother years before that. No next of kin except a stepmother who'd wasted no time petitioning the courts to access Chelsea's inheritance.
"The proxy marriage was the only legal mechanism that could protect her estate without institutional oversight," Edgar said. "A spouse has standing that a godfather doesn't. I needed someone whose name would make Francine's lawyers think twice before filing another motion." A pause. "I needed you."
"And Chelsea?"
"Didn't know. Not who you were, not your name, not a single detail. The marriage existed on paper, and that paper sat in my safe for three years. She only learned about it when she woke up."
He could see the logic of it. A girl unconscious in a hospital bed. A stepmother positioned to drain her dry. And Edgar, who had promised her father he would protect her, using the only weapon sharp enough to cut through the legal machinery arrayed against a woman who couldn't speak for herself.
The thought of her in a coma had his chest tightening for some reason, and just as inexplicable was his fierce need to protect Chelsea from anyone seeking to do her harm.
Edgar placed the documents he had prepared on Olivio's desk. "It's all there, son."
Olivio studied the documents one by one. Edgar had made sure to protect Olivio's own interests by arranging for a prenuptial agreement for him and Chelsea, and it was airtight in Olivio's favor.
No conjugal assets. Clean dissolution at either party's request.
But even so.
"When you called this morning," Olivio murmured, "you told me it was her idea to come here."
"I'm afraid so."
Interesting.
His mentor wasn't the type to use such words carelessly, but Olivio found himself unusually hard pressed to figure out where Edgar was coming from.
"What's the catch?" he asked finally.
The older man's gaze drifted to the window, just in time for both of them to see a plane cross their view. He could tell that Edgar was searching for the right words to say, and that, too, was a challenge for Olivio to comprehend.
"When Chelsea woke up...she had changed."
"Isn't that typical for someone who had a near-death experience?"
"That change is why she insisted on coming here."
"Is that so?"
"She wants to stay married to you...and she insisted on this without knowing who you are."
