Leaning back in my chair, I set the tiny black box on my desk, flipping it open and closed, a pinch of anxiety and doubt hitting my chest with each glint of the two-carat oval diamond. I’d made a special trip to my bank as soon as the ink dried on our contract.
I imagined the rose gold against the tan skin of her finger. I imagined her in nothing else but the ring, a stamp of my ownership, the only thing against her soft flesh.
The box clicked closed a little harder this time.
I needed to shut those feelings down. I hadn’t lied when I told Verana that I wanted a true marriage, but it might have been the only thing I’d been truthful about. When she’d asked what I got out of marrying her, I’d created a reason on the fly. Both of which I listed were true, but not the real reason.
In fact, I needed to make a phone call to set one of the reasons in motion.
“Archer,” he greeted.
“It’s me.”
“Is it done?”
“I’m sending the file now.” I typed in his email and sent the signed contract.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get her to sign it?”
I chuckled. “I added a clause in the contract I knew she wouldn’t agree to, leaving me to redraft a copy. When I did that, I added a new clause at the end, buried in jargon, stating she’d sign over her shares to me upon our wedding day. It was a risk, but I banked on her having gone over it with a fine-tooth comb the first time and only glancing for the one change when I brought it to her to sign again.”
“Damn. That’s ballsy. You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch.”
“I’m beginning to think I am.”
“And if she finds out and sues your ass for fraud?”
“I guess I’ll cross that bridge if it comes up.”
He grunted but let it go. “I’ll need about two weeks once I have the shares if all goes to plan over the next month—which it should. But she can’t interfere. If she were to fight you on this, it could drag it out long enough to give Mariano a fighting chance.”
“I’ll come up with something. Take her away on a honeymoon.”
“Have you heard of phones?” he deadpanned.
“My buddy, Xander, is a tech genius. I’ll have him rig something to keep her out of communication. I’ll make this work.”
“We’ve worked a long time. I hope it does.”
“It will,” I said before hanging up.
If I said it with enough conviction, fate would make it happen. Not that I believed in fate. You made your own, and I’d be damned if I didn’t lock in the most secure plan for it to all fall in place.
Conversation done, I sat back and wondered what she would do when she discovered the truth—that she played a role in me finally crumbling her family’s company under my feet? Not that it mattered. We’d made a deal. She was mine for five years, and I had to constantly remind myself of why when the appeal of having her preceded my thoughts for revenge.
So many factors were in play, and I had to remain focused on the goal—I had to keep a distance.
I had to admit that having her by my side filled a hole I hadn’t known was there—an emptiness I never planned to fill, so I never acknowledged its existence. But when I imagined Verana on my arm at events, I thought of my mother and my grandmother and how they’d stood by the men in our family. When I pictured myself, I always stood alone. Now, I had Verana, and it sparked an emotional response I needed to shut down. I planned to keep her physically close enough to not run but use my coldness and previous arrogance to put a barrier around the possibility of falling into a trap of wanting her for more than sex.
No woman had lured me away from my revenge—not even close. She wouldn’t either. I’d be the asshole she accused me of, and if I could slowly chip away at her resolve to not fuck me, then even better.
It wasn’t just me I was thinking about. I had a company, and my grandfather. One of my meetings this morning was with a caregiver in New York. He wouldn’t be thrilled to leave his warm ocean and southern hospitality, but I couldn’t have him so far away either.
I’d make it work.
I’d make all of this work.
Starting with making it official.
Snagging the box off the desk, I headed toward her desk.
I walked across the floor with purpose, garnering other employees’ attention.
Debra noticed my approach into the main cubicle area and came out of her office. “Mr. Rush. What can I do for you?”
At that, Vera lifted her head and met my eyes. Something about my face alarmed her, and her eyes widened as she scooted back like she wanted to bolt.