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Prologue
Rémy
One Month Ago . . .
There’re not many things in my life I regret. I’m a DeLancy, after all. As such, I have no problem when it comes to getting my hands bloody. It’s the way our father raised us. Well, his sons, at least. Delano DeLancy did only one thing right in his miserable sadistic life. He taught my brothers and me to be ruthless when it comes to business and to be protective of family.
My three sisters are all unique in their own way, and I like to think I have a bond with each and every one of them. Sabine—the oldest of the girls—is the strongest. Some days you’d think she’s got more balls than a lot of guys I know. Then again, after Mom died, she shut her emotions down, hiding behind a mask, and keeping it up to shield herself away. To pass the time, she runs the office out at the docks—though, she doesn’t need to—where transports come in and out. Her work has become her refuge.
Désirée is next after Sabine, and twins with Tristan, one of my two little brothers. Désirée has been gone while attending college up in New York at Stonewall University. I miss seeing her smile, and the fact I can’t see it every day guts me. But I get she’s making a life for herself. I’ll be happy when she finishes school this year and comes home. I’m sure she’ll be able to use whatever degree she gets when she moves back to New Orleans.
Lastly, Olivia—my partner in crime—we’re all a little bit more protective of her because of everything she’s endured in her life. The worst part is our stepmother, Deanna, was the person responsible for her pain. She gave a new meaning to the term “Evil Queen” when she was alive.Olivia is now married and living her happily ever after with Finn Brisbane. It’s a damn good thing he loves my sister. The only reason they got married is because of an alliance between our two families. With the threat of war out of the way, the wedding could’ve been called off, but the two of them were meant for each other. The best part of all, they’re expecting my first niece or nephew.
I think it’s because of Oliva and Finn, I ended up doing something stupid. Not just stupid. I meanstupid. I went to Vegas and pulled aHangovermovie stunt. I married a chick I didn’t even know in front of an Elvis impersonator. Unlike in the stories, I didn’t fall for the vindictive woman and have been trying to get rid of her for the past month.
The only ones who know I married Brittney are Félix and Tristan, and that’sonlybecause she followed me back to New Orleans. Sitting in my office at Diamond Dancers, I lean back in my seat and think of the last conversation I had with my lying, manipulative “wife”.
“Rémy, you can’t mean that. You don’t want to get our marriage annulled,” Brittney whines, pressing herself against me, clearly out of desperation.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ do. I didn’t even want to marry your ass in the first place,” I growl, taking a step back. “I want you to sign the papers and end this bullshit.” I have enough on my plate right now. I don’t need this as well.
“You can’t mean that, baby. Besides, I need to tell you something.” She hesitates for a second. “I’m pregnant.” Brittney’s statement nearly causes my head to explode.
Brittney can’t be serious right now. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Do you want me to show you the test?” she quips.
Fuck.
This shit can’t be happening.
“Look, get the hell out of here. I’ve got shit to do and talking to you isn’t one of them. We’ll discuss the pregnancy later. Because I’ll tell you now,ifyou are, I’m sure it’s not my kid,” I snarl. Turning away from Brittney, I walk behind my desk to the liquor table. I pour myself two fingers of scotch from the decanter and bring it to my lips, swallowing the entire thing in one gulp.
I’ve got work to do, and this is the last thing I need right now.
Opening my eyes, I let out a harsh breath. That was just a week ago. After speaking to a friend of mine—who’s a doctor—she told me you could find out as early as four weeks with home pregnancy tests. I really don’t believe Brittney is pregnant. Even if she is, it’s not mine. We got married a month ago . . .exactlyfour weeks ago. It’s possible, but the chances are slim to none. What would it be, a million in one chance it’s actually my kid?
If I have to, I’ll demand a DNA test and shove the results down her throat for thinking she could trap me. I won’t allow it. Not now. All Brittney’s trying to do is sink her claws into what’s mine. Mineandmy family’s. Most notably, my money. I noticed the red flags right away—she’s a fucking gold digger. As soon as I sobered up in Vegas, I caught her going through my wallet. That’d been enough for me.
A knock sounds at the door, drawing my attention from my thoughts. I glance up to find Félix and Madelaine coming in.
“What’s up with you?” Félix asks, stepping into my office with a hand on the small of his wife’s back, guiding her into the room.
“Nothing I can’t deal with on my own,” I grunt. Leaning back in my seat, I cross my arms. “What are you guys doing here?”
“I wanted to come down and tell you Corentina will finally be able to start soon,” Madelaine says, taking a seat across from my desk.
Corentina’s the burlesque dancer Madelaine found for Diamond Dancers a while back, but because of a contract she had with another establishment, she couldn’t start until it ended.
“When?” I have a business to run. I don’t have time to worry about when my headliner will finally show up. I’ve already waited a year.
“She’s to arrive in two weeks,” Madelaine says. “I’ve already set her up with an apartment in the complex Désirée will also be living in when she returns home.”
Madelaine does her own thing but also helps Félix and me out with miscellaneous tasks. Honestly, I don’t know what we’d do without her. She keeps us both straight. I don’t know how we managed to get anything done before they got together.
Nodding, I let her give me the rundown of what to expect. Only as she’s talking, I can barely concentrate because of the shitshow that’s now becoming my life.
