The blue-eyed stranger’s mocking laughter shrills into my ears when I step out a pair of double doors. The warmth of a late afternoon Las Vegas sun reddens my cheeks when I stop on the front stoop of an elegant, highly-guarded mansion.
I scan my eyes over the manicured grounds, absorbing the rolling turf that goes as far as the eye can see. A stream of elegant cars worth millions of dollars and beautiful floral displays make it feel like I’m not in the middle of a desert. If I could look past the heavily armed men in every corner, it would be a spectacular view.
Ignoring the gawking stares of the numerous men with guns strapped to the front of their chests, I shadow the unnamed bald gentleman down the steps of the private residence. A thankful smirk curls on my lips when he holds open the back passenger door of a black Escalade.
“Thank you,” I mumble under my breath while sliding into the car.
My heart leaps out of my chest when he unexpectedly slams the door shut. After gathering my heart from the floor, I attempt to latch my seatbelt into place. My fiddling with the uncooperative latch stops when the door opposite me swings open and Rico slides inside. The veins in my neck twitch when he leans over, yanks my seatbelt out of my grasp, and latches it into place in one swift motion.
I try to issue him my thanks, but just like the seatbelt fastener, my mouth refuses to cooperate. Once he has secured his belt, Rico turns his eyes to the window. I stare at him, gawking and confused. He said he’d have one of his men drive me to the airport, not himself.
When a gentleman in a cream checkered suit enters the escalade, Rico dips his chin in greeting before raising his eyes to the rearview mirror. Not speaking a peep, he signals to the driver to leave. Confused and nursing a bruised ego, I keep my eyes rapt on Rico. If I were holding my breath waiting for him to acknowledge my presence, I would have been asphyxiated by now.
My eyes stray away from Rico when a deep voice calls my name. “Sorry, were you talking to me?” I say to the gentleman sitting across from me.
The corners of his lips tug high, exposing his perfectly white straight teeth. “Yes, Blaire. My name is Erik Monstrateo, I'm Rico’s lawyer.” He offers me his hand to shake.
Masking my shock that he knows my name, I accept his handshake before shooting my eyes to Rico. From the way he keeps his gaze planted straight ahead and his subdued mood unwavering, anyone would swear he hasn’t noticed my intrusive stare. Anyone but me. I can feel his scorching glare burning a hole in my soul.
I turn my eyes back to Erik when he says, “Rico has been very generous with his settlement offer. Once the annulment forms are signed—”
I wave my hand through the air, stopping Erik mid-sentence.
"Settlement offer?" I interrupt with my confused eyes bouncing between Erik's light blue gaze.
Erik is a handsome man in his early thirties with sandy blond hair and cut facial features, but just like Rico, he has a snip of danger in his eyes that sets me on edge.
Erik smiles. It's a warm smile in a callous and vindictive confrontation. "Yes. When you sign the annulment papers, a transfer of two million dollars will be wired into your account within twenty-four hours. . .“
He continues speaking, but I don’t hear a word he is saying. I’m too busy staring at Rico, slack-jawed and muted. Throughout Erik’s legal jargon on the terms of our annulment, Rico taps his index finger on his trouser-covered knee while his gaze remains fixated on the heavy flow of traffic whizzing by the window. Anyone would swear he is being informed the lunch specials at a fancy restaurant on the strip, not a life-altering decision.
The only time Rico’s attention is won is when I drift my eyes back to Erik and say, “I don’t want Rico’s money. All I want is to dissolve a drunken mistake and return to my normal life.” My brows scrunch as bile crawls up my windpipe. “Well, as normal as it can be after what I’ve experienced this weekend.”
A grin stretches across Erik’s face as he scratches out the excessive monetary amount in the alimony section of our annulment documentation.
His smile is wiped right off his face when Rico commands, "Leave the figure as stated." He turns his hard-set eyes to me. "We had an agreement. The amount will remain. This is not negotiable.”
“I don’t want your money,” I fire back, my voice surprisingly strong considering how fast my heart is racing.
"Then don't sign the annulment papers.” Rico glares at me. "You either leave with the figure stated or remain married to me. Only you can decide which is the lesser of two evils."
When he returns his narrowed gaze to the window, I stay staring at him, blinking and confused. Why would he agree to hand over such an extravagant amount of money to a stranger? He has only known me for twenty-four hours. It honestly doesn’t make any sense.
After adjusting the figure back to two million dollars, Erik hands the five-page document to me. I shift my eyes away from Rico to scan the densely worded form. My heart squeezes when my eyes roam over Rico's full name: Enrique Julies Popov. It's a beautiful name for a handsome but cold-hearted man.
My heart squeezes for the second time when I spot the reason for our annulment: “Plaintiff lacked understanding of his/her actions to the extent that he/she was incapable of agreeing to the marriage because she was…”
"Severely inebriated," I read aloud.
Snubbing the swirling of my stomach, I return my eyes to Rico. “I thought you said I only had a spritzer or three?”
He appears to be paying me no attention, but he can’t fool me. I can feel the heat of his gaze on me. It’s even more scorching than the blistering sun hanging in the sky. But no matter how long I glare at him, he never acknowledges my presence. That hurts even more than a failed marriage under my belt before I turn twenty-five.
With my heart clutched in my chest, I scribble my signature across the forms before passing them to Rico. He doesn't read the document or pause for hesitation, he just signs his name beside mine before handing the papers back to Erik.
I grit my teeth when absurd tears prick in my eyes. I was married for less than twenty-four hours, so I have no clue why I’m being so dramatic. But, I guess, at the end of the day, I always thought when I married, it would be to a man I love, and it would last a lifetime. I never considered the prospect of a quickie Vegas wedding.
Keeping my snivels to a bare minimum, I persevere with keeping my eyes locked on the scenery flying by. Famous Las Vegas landmarks stretch as far as the eye can see. It's a beautiful landscape, but nothing can ease the pain crippling me from the inside out.
