Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Fuck me,” Wrath says. “Killian willing to take a different Wilde as a husband?” He says that in a charming way, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, but as I issue a pointed look, he backs down. “Okay, bro. Sorry. Let’s calm down. Obviously, he’s not planning to have a wedding tonight, right?”
When I don’t respond right away, Masters says, “Right?”
“No, no.”
“Okay, so we need to talk to legal,” Masters says. “See if anyone has an idea what to do about this. Maybe, if we can’t make it mutually beneficial, there’s a way out of this agreement.”
If he’d seen the way Killian was acting with me, how much he was enjoying having power over me, he’d know that’s unlikely.
Masters must read the skepticism in my expression because he says, “Let’s not panic until we’ve put our heads together. And if it turns out you do have to marry the bastard, then that’s the way it goes, right?” He pats my back. “I’ll reach out to the lawyers. They’ll have a copy of any agreement. We’ll see if he can find a loophole to get out of this bullshit deal Dad made as a last-ditch attempt to keep us safe. Really, I’m sure he’s fucking with you.”
“He’s right,” Wrath adds. “Dad and Old Terror were good friends, and that’s why he wanted to keep us safe.”
“Whatever their reason, Killian Lorde is determined to marry me,” I say without a trace of humor.
Masters and Wrath exchange a look, as if seriously considering the implications for the first time.
Wrath forces a smile. “Let’s get you some breakfast. Plenty to do today without worrying senselessly about something that’s probably never gonna happen anyway, right?”
Although, I wish he’d sounded more confident…
4
LOGAN
The next few days are uneventful, but I’m anxious as fuck. Well, more than usual. I assume it’s a trauma response from the abduction, a part of me waiting for more guys to break in at any moment and tear me away from my family. I’ve had a few dreams where I’m in a wedding dress, heading down the aisle toward Killian, who stands in a tux with a priest at the altar. One would think it’d be difficult to secure a Catholic priest for a gay wedding, but they probably don’t know the Wildes or the Lordes.
“The good news is, nothing about this is legally binding,” my attorney, Finter, assured me after reviewing the contract, which, no shit, but that’s not really the issue. “As far as protection goes, it’s contingent upon this wedding.”
Of course it is. Just my luck. I’m sure one of the Lordes’ best lawyers came up with this. Old Terror was brutal, not an idiot.
Outside of the contract, I’ve gone through our finances with our accountant. Repaying the debts written off because of our arrangement with the Lordes would be, short of a miracle, something we would never recover from. And even if we could get out of our debts, that would still leave our enemies. Our family earned every one, and the moment this forcefield around us disappears, they’ll descend upon me and my brothers in a storm of vengeance and blood.
Killian is smart enough not to bother me while I mull over everything he said, and on Friday, I’m in Dad’s study, catching up via FaceTime with Malaki, who’s rambling about his friends and school.
“You there, bro?” he asks, shaking me out of my daze.
“Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”
I haven’t mentioned any of this arranged-marriage BS to him or Rory. Their education and futures are my priority. Unlike Wrath, Masters, and me, neither of them has any interest in this life, so I consider it my duty to ensure they never have to deal with it any more than their birthright forces them to. But I must admit I envy how they can make plans for something bigger and better. Because for me…well, I never had a chance to dream of another life. This was always my fate. It’s not something I allow myself to dwell on usually, mostly because it doesn’t do me any good. It’s different now, though, and I’ve been letting myself indulge in self-pity. I’m a cornered animal, right where Killian wants me.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell Malaki, not sure if that’s even the truth.
He angles his head, issuing an accusatory glare. “Okay, I’ve been gone for a few months. That doesn’t mean I can’t read when something’s up with you.”
“Fair enough. Something is going on, but it’s just business. My responsibility.”
He studies my expression. I want to shift the phone so he won’t be able to get too good of a read on me. But even if he tried, I can’t imagine he’d clock what’s really going on.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” he says, and the way he words it…does he know? Wrath is a little snitch, so it wouldn’t surprise me.