“Correct. You are as smart as you are sweet, boy.”
I grit my teeth to stop from swearing at the asshole on the other side of the desk.
“So why didn’t you?”
“That was my intention. Your father’s wealth is no match for the inheritance I was being cruelly denied, but it would have been enough. But then, shortly before Christmas, when I walked in here to put myofferon the table, I was greeted by this sweet photo.”
Floyd picks up a frame that I hadn’t seen lying face down on my father’s desk, though I know what it is. It’s a photo of me taken last year on holiday.
“And then there was the answer to all my problems. Your dear old dad, before he knew my true intentions for meeting with him, so kindly told me all about you. He even offered to introduce us.”
I shake my head, falling silent for a moment as I mull over Floyd’s words, and then the question I haven’t asked comes to me.
“What was the caveat? In your grandfather’s will?”
“Smart boy, asking the right questions.” He grins. “My grandfather left me a third of his estate on the condition that I am married and cohabiting for two years before my fortieth birthday. Failure to meet that criteria andmymoney goes to charity.” He sneers at the word. “Thankfully, my grandfather didn’t specify who I had to marry – I had my lawyer double-check – and this marriage isn’t about sex and love and all that shit, so I don’t care what either of our preferences are. All I care about is that you, Darius Thorne-Sutton,arethe answer.”
This is all so fucked up, I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around it. What my father did to build his company, what is being asked of me now. It all feels like I’m suddenly a spectator in my own life. It does at the very least answer why my father has been acting strange towards me lately – he’s been building the courage to break this news.
“Why would your grandfather do that?” I ask, still not grasping the why of all this.
Floyd stands and paces behind the desk. His icy demeanour is slipping with every second this drags on.
“My guess is that he thought it would finally force me to be more like him. A good husband and a devoted father. A man who valued family over affluence. He always said I was too selfish to care about anyone but myself, so maybe he hoped this would encourage me to change.” Floyd shrugs. “He had to have known I would never succeed, because he’s not wrong. I am selfish, but I don’t see it the same way he does – people are tiresome and needy – why would I want to waste my energy on them? None of that matters, though, now that I have you. He can rot in his fucking grave while I take what is rightfully mine.”
“You don’t haveme, Floyd. I’m not going along with this.”
Floyd smacks his palms on my father’s desk, but I don’t recoil. Instead, I stand, mirror his position, and say, “Fuck you.” His nostrils flare and his hands ball into fists against the wooden surface. But it’s my dad who speaks up.
His voice is raw with emotion, and I know the minute my name passes his lips that everything is about to change.
“Darius. If he releases those files to the media or gives them to the police, we will lose everything.”
I turn to face the man I’ve looked up to for years and place a hand on his shoulder.
“We don’t need the money, Dad. We have each other and will be fine without it.”
He shakes his head, his jaw tightening on his next words.
“You don’t get it; it’s not just the money! If this gets out, if what your uncle and I did becomes public knowledge, I don’t just lose what we spent years building; I go to prison.”
Fuck. That hadn’t even crossed my mind, and the reality of it has me lightheaded, forcing me to sit back down. With my elbows on my knees, I let my head fall forward, close my eyes and take deep breaths.
Oliver’s face is there behind my closed lids.I can’t do this. I can’t do what they’re asking of me. But when I remember the alternative, I’m not sure I can do that either.
Looking up, I ask Floyd, “Why not find someone to willingly marry you? There must be someone who would do it?”
“Firstly, I’m running out of time. I’ll be thirty-eight in a little over two months, and secondly, this is easy. There’s far too much work in real relationships, and then there’s the fact that I don’t plan to share the wealth once it’s in my hands. I’m not paying someone to do something you can do for me for free.”
“Please, son,” my father whispers. He’s crouched down at my side. “It’s two years, and then you can go back to your life. Please.”
Two years. Oliver and I won’t survive that.
“I’m seeing someone,” I say quietly, tears burning at the back of my eyes. “I love him. No, I won’t do what you’re asking.”
“I’ve given you everything, Darius. Now, I need something from you. Do this for me. For us.”
“I can’t,” I choke out, hating that even to my own ears, the words no longer sound certain as my mind and heart war with each other.
