Page 31

Maybe my parents wouldn’t have been proud, but I sure was. After they’d passed, my life had changed in ways they would never even have begun to understand.

My aunt and uncle had been there to take me in. I had never set foot in the foster system and I was infinitely grateful to them for that, but they had five kids of their own. The house I’d moved into had been desperately overcrowded even before they’d had to fit another bed somewhere. I’d done my best to stay small.

I’d barely been scraping by since the accident, and for the first time, there was light at the end of the tunnel. I could have a life instead of merely surviving. In the greater scheme of things, that meant something too. It meant my entire life wouldn’t remain a struggle simply because my parents’ lives had been cut far too short.

By the time I got to the house, my mood had lifted and I’d sunk into a fragile, relieved sort of peace. It was so novel that I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I pushed open the front door and walked in, and that peace evaporated as soon as I reached the kitchen.

Holden was standing by the sink, sweaty and with his blond hair darker now that it was damp. It looked like he’d been working out, or running, or whatever it was billionaires did to maintain a physique like his. Lifting giant stacks of money probably.

He was also filling up a large plastic water bottle straight from the tap.

“Oh, be careful,” I said quietly, my librarian instincts taking over as I set my keys on the counter. “That’s city water and the house is pretty old, so the pipes are questionable. We have a filtered pitcher in the fridge.”

Holden stopped but didn’t turn off the tap. He just lifted the bottle, locked his piercing gray-blue eyes directly on mine, and took a long, slow drink of straight tap water. It was a bizarre display of masculine stubbornness, like he was trying to posture or establish dominance over the kitchen sink.

Frankly, after the emotional roller coaster of the past week, the last thing I needed was him getting sick in my house. I didn’t need to be blamed for making him live somewhere he got poisoned and I sure as hell did not need the mighty Thayers stepping in and telling me the house wasn’t good enough for one of their own. So I snapped. Quietly but firmly.

“Look, I understand you didn’t want to do this either,” I said, stepping up to the opposite side of the island and crossing my arms. “I know you had your own reasons that made it necessary for you to marry me. So did I, but I don’t regret it.”

Holden set the water bottle down on the counter with a soft click, a slow, ridiculously arrogant smirk spreading across his face. Those intense eyes flashed with a cynical, mocking light that made my hackles rise instantly. One of his eyebrows arched.

“I’m well aware you don’t regret it,” he said, voice icy as he leaned against the counter. “I’m also aware you were probably paid a massive chunk by my family up front, and that our prenup is generous, to say the least. Honestly, I’m glad to hear you admit it. I’m glad we can agree this was just about the cash.”

He paused for a moment, cocking his head as he held my gaze. “So, what’s it going to be first? A shiny new sports car? A first-class vacation to the Maldives? A little golden Rolex to show off to your friends? Or maybe just some giant diamond earrings?”

My entire face went hot, a furious flush burning up my neck. “A Rolex? A vacation? No. Those are luxuries people like me don’t have, Holden. Not even now. I’ve already done the first thing I was going to do, and that was paying off the back taxes on my childhood home this morning. Then I settled my student loans.”

Fighting the sob I felt coming with everything I had, I swallowed the massive lump in my throat and gripped the edge of the counter so hard, my knuckles turned white. “I’m hoping to go back to school to get my master’s degree next year, so I won’t touch the rest of that money until I’ve paid for that, and if there’s anything left, maybe I’ll buy a bag of proper fucking coffee so I can stop scrounging for beans that ended up in the toaster.”

Holden’s mocking smirk vanished as he stared at me, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. I stared right back at him, this strange man who was living in my house—my so-called husband—and finally let out the breath I’d been holding. I didn’t know much about Holden Thayer or about whatever family drama had forced him into this contract. All I knew was that he was fabulously rich and judging me from a height I could never reach. So I shook my head, accepting that he could never understand where I was coming from but needing to set the record straight right from the outset.

“What’s more is that I’m not sorry about it,” I said, my voice still trembling but my chin lifting slightly as I looked him right in the eyes. “Money solved all of my problems today. Every single one of them. Problems I’ve had for years with no way out. So hate me if you want. Call me a gold digger. Think I’m lazy. I don’t care. You don’t get to look down your nose at me when you have absolutely no idea what it feels like to wonder if you’re going to lose the roof over your head.”

Holden didn’t say a word, just stood there with this completely shut-off expression on his handsome face. Right now, he might as well have been a jagged rock for all the emotion he was revealing, all hard, sharp lines and absolutely nothing else.

I scoffed but stopped waiting for a response. Clearly, he was so far removed from reality that those specific words strung together, even when spoken in the English language, didn’t make sense to him. What I’d said simply wasn’t within his frame of reference, so he couldn’t grasp it. At all.

After staring at him for another beat, I shook my head and marched out of the kitchen, hurrying up the stairs and firmly shutting my bedroom door behind me. As I leaned back against the wood, I realized I was shaking. My chest heaved as I tried to gulp in one breath after another in an attempt to calm my racing pulse.

I had no idea why just looking at Holden Thayer made it feel like every last drop of oxygen had been sucked out of the room, but his silent, simmering wrath was something else entirely. Something cold and dark that made me wonder if he was so spoiled that he’d turned out to be cruel.

When I finally caught my breath a little, I strode over to my bed and sank down on the edge of it, staring at the golden band on my finger. Holden didn’t chase me down the hall or knock on the door. I supposed I hadn’t expected him to, but as I fiddled with the ring, it suddenly occurred to me that my new living arrangement was going to be a total battlefield.

And against an adversary like that, I doubted I was going to win the war.

CHAPTER 15

HOLDEN

Over the next few days, silence reigned supreme between Alicia and me, heavy enough to give me a tension headache and so deafening that even I was starting to miss conversation. On the other hand, at least it gave me time to fully wrap my head around the fact that the Hyde Park brownstone wasn’t just a random rental they’d found on a college forum.

It was Alicia’s house. According to Tasha, this was where Alicia had grown up, a place she loved so much, she’d legally bound herself to a cynical prick to protect it.

Naturally, that meant I probably should’ve apologized to her for being an asshole, but I didn’t. Admitting I’d been wrong wasn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, so instead, I just stewed in my own thoughts, ignoring the uncomfortable twist in my gut every time I passed her in the hallway.

Unfortunately, our forced isolation couldn’t last forever.

It was Friday evening, and right now, we were begrudgingly climbing into my car to attend a small dinner party at my mom’s. It was being held in honor of nothing in particular, other than the fact that our family gatherings seemed to happen less and less these days.