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“Oh, Sophia,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a condescending sweetness that makes me want to scream. “You still don’t understand, do you? You don’t get to negotiate. You don’t get to set any terms. You gave up that right when you signed on the dotted line. You’ll do as I say. You’ll sleep where I tell you to. And you’ll be a good little wife and give me the child you agreed to.”

I flinch, my stomach churning as I pull back slightly, forcing myself to meet his gaze, my own eyes pleading and desperate. “I can’t… be your wife in that way. Please, Vance. I signed the papers. I’ll do everything else. I’ll play the part in public. I’ll live here. Just… please. Don’t make me… Don’t force me to… We can have a baby witho⁠—”

“I have my principles. I’m not fathering a child with a woman I haven’t been inside of. I won’t put my baby in a body I haven’t claimed. That’s my line, my morals, if you will.”

I stare at him, utterly speechless. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I have never in my life been rendered completely incapable of forming a coherent thought.

He moves impossibly closer, his knee nudging lightly between mine. “But also… Apparently Roman had a sense of humor. Per the contract, you’re the only woman I’m allowed to fuck once we’re married,” he shares, his voice dropping to a dangerous rasp. “And I refuse to be celibate for the rest of my life, Sophia.” His smile widens as he raises his hand, his thumb gently stroking my cheek, the gesture mockingly tender. He leans in close until his lips brush over my ear and his breath is hot on my skin. With a low, menacing growl that sends a shiver down my spine, he whispers, “I have appetites, and you will satisfy them.”

His hand slides from my cheek to my throat, cupping it gently to remind me how completely he holds my life in his grasp. “I suggest you accept your new reality, sweetheart. The wedding is in three days. And after that?” He pauses, letting the silence stretch taut between us. “You’ll belong to me. Completely.”

The drive to The Ashford Group is a blur of controlled aggression, my Aston Martin cutting through the heart of the city I’m mere days away from securing my stake in. The tower rises above the surrounding buildings in steel and glass, its mirrored façade catching the mid-morning sun and throwing it across the streets below. I pull into the private garage and stride into the lobby with the quiet confidence of a man who has solved the most critical problem of his life with a single, ruthless stroke. The clock might still be ticking, but the weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders since the reading of my father’s will is gone.

I cross the marble floor toward the private elevators, ignoring the staff’s greetings as I pass. The elevator doors close, sealing me into silence. I loosen my tie and lean against the mirrored wall, finally allowing myself a moment to breathe. Sophia’s sweet lavender perfume clings to my suit, and I can’t fight the smile that curls the corners of my lips as I inhale it with each breath.

The doors slide open to the hushed opulence of the executive floor. I stride into my office, the air thick with expensive coffee and barely concealed anxiety. My brothers are all there. Kaden is standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, his arms crossed, glaring at the traffic below. Xander is seated at one of the chairs across from my desk, a tumbler of what I suspect is whiskey in front of him, his expression thoughtful and calculating. The twins, Baldwin and Beckett, are slouched on the couch, looking like they are minutes from scheming up chaotic nonsense.

“I have a solution,” I announce, my voice cutting through the quiet as I walk to the sideboard and pour myself a black coffee.

Kaden turns, his eyes narrowed. “A solution to the fact you have to find a wife in one week or we all lose our entire fucking inheritance? I’d love to hear it.”

I take a sip of the scalding liquid, letting it burn a path down my throat. “I’m getting married.”

The silence that follows is so profound I can hear the hum of the building’s ventilation system. It’s Beckett who breaks it, a slow, disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. “Did you order one from a catalog? Do they ship mail-order brides that fast?”

“This weekend.”

“Wow, they do ship fast!” Baldwin exclaims.

“I found someone,” I share, ignoring him. I place my mug on my desk and lean against the wood, my gaze sweeping over each of them.

“Who?” Xander asks.

“Sophia Bennett.”

Kaden’s suspicion is immediate, a palpable shift in the room’s energy. “Bennett? The pretty blonde who fights you at every turn? Are you out of your fucking mind? She works for the company. She’s a liability.”

“She’s ambitious,” I counter smoothly. “Ambition can be controlled. She’s smart, capable, and she has a very vested interest in keeping our secrets.”

Xander stirs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “She’s smart enough to be dangerous, Vance. What happens when she gets a conscience? Or a better offer? A woman that sharp won’t be content to be a pretty ornament on your arm.”

“She won’t,” I state with a certainty I don’t entirely feel but project with unwavering force. “I’ve secured her cooperation. Her loyalty is not to me, but to her sister. And she knows exactly what happens if she ever decides to walk away.”

Baldwin leans forward, resting his chin on steepled fingers. “Secured? What does that even mean? Did you pay her?”

“I leveraged her,” I correct him, my tone leaving no room for further inquiry on the method. “Her sister is in pre-med at Crestwood. The tuition is considerably more than Sophia can afford. I’ve guaranteed her sister’s entire academic career. I am setting up a trust fund for her, and Sophia will get the promotion Roman had been promising. In exchange, she’ll be my wife. She won’t risk the alternative.”

“A transaction. I like it.” A slow grin spreads across Beckett’s face. “It’s cold and clean. Roman would definitely approve.” He looks over at his twin. “I’ll give it six months before she tries to poison him, though.”

“Three,” Baldwin counters without missing a beat before turning his attention to me. “I saw her at the funeral. She fucking hates you, Vance. That look in her eyes… It’s not dislike. It’s a deep, simmering loathing.”

If she didn’t before, she sure as fuck does now.

It’s better this way. Hate is much cleaner than love. It’s more predictable. Love makes people stupid. Hate keeps them sharp and focused on their enemy.

Kaden is still shaking his head. “This is a mistake. She’s not one of us. She doesn’t understand the game, the stakes. She’ll never⁠—”

“It’s the only solution,” I interrupt roughly. “Roman’s will was pretty fucking specific. A wife. An heir. A public, legitimate marriage. Sophia is presentable. She’s intelligent. She’s already connected to the company, which makes the abruptness less suspicious. We spend enough time together here. She has no private life to speak of, and I keep mine quiet. No one will be any the wiser.”