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A fresh wave of hatred rippled through me. The distance between me and my son was Elise’s doing. She’d hid him from me. Then she’d prejudiced Violet against me. If it weren’t for sheer, dumb luck, I’d never have known my son existed. Seeing Violet with Jack hammered in how much I needed her.
Winning over Jack was one thing, but Violet was a different story. Women didn’t fall in love with me. They just worshipped the dark side of me. No matter what, I wouldn’t meet Violet’s expectations. And even if I did, she’d never forgive me for what happened to her sister.
THIRTEEN
VIOLET
Get out of here. Now.
My sister’s warning screamed in my head, but Achille’s stare bolted my heels to the floor. We were in an office downtown in a building owned by his family. The large mahogany table was like a battlefield, strewn with legal papers. The lawyers, bystanders in our war, scribbled down notes. My future husband sat across from me, an enigma wrapped in a leather jacket.
Husband.
It still hadn’t sunk in. My sister’s sweet voice berated me. I told you to keep my son away from him, and now you’re marryin’ him? You’re off your rocker!
Marrying Achille felt as desperate as a dry creek bed waiting for rain. He was far from Mr. Right, but I wasn’t looking for a fairytale prince. I needed a storm, and the man others whispered about in hushed tones was a tempest in human form.
He lounged in his chair with a grace that reminded me of a panther I once saw at the Knoxville Zoo, all coiled power and lazy confidence. A white T-shirt hugged his broad chest. His hair, a messy mop of curls, fell into his eyes. He looked beautiful and bored.
Achille’s lawyer, Michelle, a statuesque blonde in a sleek Chanel suit, perched next to him like a hawk beside its master. She gave me a timid smile. “Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
I waved her off. “I’m good, thank you.”
Michelle shot Achille a wary look, receiving a curt nod in response.
She turned toward me. “Ms. Harper, my client and I sent you a prenuptial agreement for you to go through. Did you have any concerns or questions?”
Beside me, my lawyer, Kim, opened her notepad. “First, we want to address Mr. Costa’s demand to be listed on Jack’s birth certificate.”
Achille’s gaze flicked to me. “That’s non-negotiable.”
“It’s not just a formality,” Kim continued. “It implies legal parenthood, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with it.”
“Which I am ready to assume,” he ground out.
Kim glanced at me, and I nodded. “Okay. Then let’s move on to the financial arrangements.” Kim flipped to another page as Michelle jotted notes. “Ms. Harper requires a trust fund set up for Jack, independent of the marriage agreement.”
Achille nodded. “Agreed.”
Kim glanced at her notes. “Ms. Harper insists on a clause with specific terms.”
Achille raised an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”
“If either party is found guilty of infidelity, it will cause a substantial penalty. Fifty-thousand dollars, per incident. It’ll be separate from any other provisions in the agreement.”
His attention slid to me. He said nothing, but I felt the burn of his stare as it slipped down my face, throat, and body. Like he’d already memorized my curves.
My cheeks flushed. “No affairs.”
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze so hot I squirmed in my chair. “Fair enough. But remember, this street goes both ways.”
“Of course.”
His lawyer leaned forward. “Mr. Costa, I advise against this. It’s unusual and could be?—”
Achille silenced her with a wave of his hand. “If that’s what she wants, it’s fine by me.”
I bit my lip, my nerves frayed. He should’ve put up a bigger fight. Why not? Achille’s expression still hadn’t changed from cool indifference, but he wouldn’t stop staring.
