PROLOGUE
ROWAN
SIX YEARS AGO
Getting married was never part of the plan.
Why would it be? I barely have time to sleep, let alone to pay a woman the attention she would demand, and I’ve already had and raised a child.
And yet, here I am.
Married to one of the most insufferable women I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.
It’s not forever, I remind myself.
I never should have agreed to this, but when a man like Jeffrey Malone decides he wants something, there’s nothing he won’t do to get it, and unfortunately for me, that includes me marrying his daughter.
In hindsight, I wish I’d met her before agreeing to this sham of a marriage. Surely whatever repercussions I would have been faced with would have been preferable to having her as a wife.
She flits around the reception like a drunken social butterfly, her sixth glass of champagne for the evening clutched between her fingers like a lifeline.
I guess I should just be grateful I don’t have to fuck her.
That was a hard no from the moment Jeffrey demanded our union.
Someone catches my eye, her satin pink dress fitted perfectly around her curves.
I’ve seen her a few times today, but she hasn’t stopped moving long enough for me to appreciate her beauty.
She’s too young for me, that I’m fucking certain of. But there’s something about her that makes me desperate to observe her, to know more about the haunted green eyes I’ve only gotten flashes of.
It’s been a long time since someone has intrigued me like this, and I think I deserve to feed that curiosity just a little for going along with this wedding.
Only three hundred and sixty-four days until we file for divorce.
I move out of the corner I’ve been hiding in for the last twenty minutes. After the third person grilled me for my life story, I needed whiskey and some peace and quiet.
The woman in pink slips between tables, her auburn hair pulled up into an artful updo with tendrils of curls framing her pretty face.
I stalk after her, wanting to get a better vantage point for wherever she stops next, but when Jeffrey grabs her bicep a little too roughly and drags her over to speak to Marianne, my stomach rolls.
I have a bad feeling about this.
I move closer, curiosity getting the best of me. But you know what they say about curiosity.
“You were late to your own mother’s wedding,” Jeffrey snaps, fury rolling off him in waves. “Do you know how that makes me look? Like my own granddaughter doesn’t respect the family enough to be on time for such an important event.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her voice every bit as angelic as the rest of her. “My car broke down on the way, and I had to wait for a cab that would take me the full two hours.”
“If you just agreed to the conditions of your trust fund, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Marianna snaps, downing what’s left of her glass of champagne.
Haunted green eyes flick up and meet mine, and I’m captivated.
Absolutely enamored.
And undeniably fucked.
Because the first woman to genuinely interest me in decades is my new stepdaughter.
