Page 100 of The Contract Marriage

“Really? How sad. I was really looking forward to congratulating Olivia. After all, she is my sister.” Her voice is sweet, but her eyes remain hard.

“Sisterly love apparently didn’t stop you from stealing her fiancé. But I do have to thank you for bringing Olivia to me.”

The blonde next to her frowns. Brielle’s smile grows brittle, but she keeps her chin up. “She’s not worth your devotion. You sure she isn’t playing around behind your back?”

I can feel my eyes narrowing. “Just a little warning. Defaming my wife carries consequences you won’t be able to handle.”

A corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s only defamation if what I’m saying isn’t true.” Brielle leans forward and lowers her voice. “She just wants a baby, Liam. The trust doesn’t say it has to be yours.”

The fuck?

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? Just let you assume?” Brielle smiles, back in control again. “She only needs a husband and a baby. If the husband thinks it’s his, great. Makes for better PR, know what I mean?” She leans forward, letting me see some cleavage. “But it doesn’t have to be.”

“You need to stop projecting, Brielle. It reveals a lot more than you want.”

“Whatever. That baby in her womb isn’t yours. Do I have to be this blunt for you to get it?” She snickers. “You’ve met that gloomy guy from her company who always tags along after her?”

Simon.

“He’s been with her for seven years. A man who looks like the sun rises and sets with her would never stay around that long without getting something in return. So what’s she giving him in return?”

I clench my teeth.

“Probably more than she should give a coworker, don’t you think?” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a phone. “Look.”

On the screen is a photo of Olivia and Simon at a restaurant. Her dress and his suit—I recognize them. The clothes they wore on her birthday. She said he took her to lunch. They’re eating and smiling.

Brielle flips to the next picture.

Olivia is leaning over the table to reach him. The camera angle shows her face, all warmth and affection as she has her hand on his chest.

A searing heat starts in my heart, then drops to my gut.

“See? Simon doesn’t just fetch her water and coffee. He takes her out. And he’s young. Fit.” Brielle’s eyes meet mine. “A man and a woman…alone for so long… Surely feelings develop, especially for a girl so isolated and lonely. She’s so fucked up in the head, she doesn’t even have any friends, you know?” Brielle’s eyes sparkle. “To her, people are just tools. You are just a tool. So she can deny her family what we deserve and steal our money.”

Brielle’s whispered words drip into my mind like drops of acid. She’s spewing poison, I tell myself, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less because what she’s saying isn’t all lies. Olivia has been lonely. She purposely kept to herself for some unclear reason.

Simon’s been an exception. Seven fucking years.

And she does hate Hugh, Deena and Brielle. She’d do anything to make them pay.

My hands curl into fists despite myself. “The trust belonged to her mother, not Hugh,” I manage as I forcibly relax my muscles.

“So? Don’t you see the photos? How about this then? Do you think you fit into this?” She thumbs through her phone until she finds another. “Look at it. Coming out of a hotel with Simon. This was last Christmas, you know. Does that look innocent to you? Were you invited to this rendezvous?” She hits play.

Olivia is in a blue dress in the video, and she’s stepping out of the Ritz-Carlton. Unlike her usual self, she doesn’t look put together, her hair a bit messy, and her lips without the pink tint she always wears to the office. Simon walks next to her, studying her face, then smooths her hair back when her chignon comes undone. Sharp bitterness fills my mouth.

“It doesn’t matter who fathers the baby,” Brielle says. “She just needs a husband who looks respectable. Simon’s not rich enough, just some office drone. Looks sort of sad when she wants to project absolute victory against her family. Especially when we’ve done nothing wrong.”

The urge to snatch the phone out of Brielle’s hand and smash it on the floor, then cover her mouth to smother the words swells until it’s almost overwhelming. I cling to control even as I bleed inside. A public scene with Brielle is the last thing my wife needs.

“Tyler didn’t choose to marry me for no reason, Liam. I’m loyal. Olivia? Well…” Brielle clucks her tongue, then shrugs.

Her friend tugs at her sleeve. “I’ve got everything. Let’s go.”

They walk out, Brielle giving me a final look over her shoulder. A moment later, Sue comes over, studying my expression. “Are you all right? Do you need help or anything?”

No. I don’t want anything, not right now. But leaving without buying anything feels like a defeat. I force a smile that hopefully looks somewhat normal. “Could you gift-wrap this cream and purple onesie for me?”