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Lacey shifted in her chair, to give herself time to get her rampaging heartbeat under control as Daryl left the room. But, when she looked at Brandon, his expression had the panic clawing at her chest again like a wild dog. Because the volatile emotions on his face when she had first arrived, even the passion of moments ago, had disappeared, to be replaced with the same distant, determined and utterly ruthless expression which had devastated her five years ago.
‘What’s Plan B?’ she managed, even though she suddenly felt as insecure and powerless as she had in that nightclub office.
The emerald fire in his eyes was shockingly explicit, but his tone was laced with ice. ‘We get married.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘YOU’RENOT...YOU’REnot serious?’ Lacey stammered, not sure she’d heard Brandon correctly as Daryl trooped back into the room with the legal team.
But, as the group took their seats, the only person she could focus on was Brandon, his calm expression suggesting he had just supplied a perfectly reasonable solution to their problem instead of something completely insane.
Her breathing accelerated, alongside her panicked heartbeat, though the meeting proceeded as if she were a ghost, invisible to everyone but herself.
Brandon’s gaze raked over her, then landed on the head of his legal team. He began firing out orders as if he were the captain of a ship about to go to war.
Marrow, his team and Daryl jotted down the directives—everything from drafting a prenup to how to divide his property portfolio—on their phones and laptops.
‘But I haven’t agreed to marry you...!’ Lacey at last managed to butt into the conversation.
What was going on? Because she felt as if she were on a rollercoaster which was careering out of control, a rollercoaster she’d never even agreed to ride...
But Brandon and the rest of the room ignored her.Again.
‘Daryl, talk to Claire in finance.’ Brandon turned to his assistant. ‘Tell her to arrange a monthly allowance of five times Ms Carstairs’ current salary. She can’t work as a celebrity journalist for the foreseeable future. And tell her to arrange child support payments to cover all my daughter’s expenses. We can set up trusts, college funds, et cetera at a later date. And I want her officially named as my heir. Ms Carstairs and my child can relocate to the Cade estate in Wiltshire until the wedding.’
Lacey’s mind was reeling, her panic so huge now it was beginning to choke her, when Brandon added, ‘I want to announce the engagement in a press release by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning UK time—so we can pre-empt the headlines in the US. Everyone got that?’
They all nodded, except Lacey, who had rollercoastered her way into an alternative universe. Was she imagining this?
She had no intention of marrying Brandon Cade, or giving up her job, or relocating to Wiltshire, for that matter. But then, he still hadn’t actually asked her to do any of those things.
‘Okay, thanks, now get moving—we have a lot to do,’ he announced.
With that, they all filed back out of the room.
The door closed behind them, the muted thud drowned out by the frantic beat of Lacey’s pulse as she stared, incredulously, at Brandon.
He rose and walked round the desk to stand in front of her.
She forced herself to stand too, despite the liquid in her knees. She pressed her arms to her sides and squeezed trembling fingers into tight fists until her knuckles whitened.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something fairly important?’ she said at last, feeling utterly overwhelmed but determined not to show it.
One thing she had always known—if you let Brandon Cade see a weakness, he would exploit it.
He leaned against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. The arrogant half-smile she was starting to hate played on his lips—but there was no amusement in his eyes. ‘And what would that be?’
‘I haven’t agreed to marry you. In fact, you haven’t even asked me,’ she said, finally grabbing hold of the righteous indignation which was her only defence against his unbelievable arrogance.
‘I haven’t asked you because this isn’t a choice, for either one of us,’ he said, the dimple disappearing as well as the half-smile—somehow the sober, serious expression was even more arrogant. ‘Marriage is our only option.’
‘For you, maybe,’ she shot back, her temper finally arriving full force. ‘I realise the angle Drystar are planning to run with on this is not going to be good for your image or your US deal. And I will do everything I can to mitigate that, by stating clearly and unequivocally you didn’t know of Ruby’s existence until three days ago.’
It would be a public humiliation, and she had no doubt at all there would be little or no sympathy for her behaviour from the keyboard warriors on social media. But maybe that was the punishment she deserved for allowing her own hurt and cowardice to get in the way of doing the right thing, not just five years ago but a week ago too.
‘I realise this is my fault,’ she continued. ‘But I’m not about to give up a job I love, or uproot me and Ruby and Milly to move to Wiltshire, and become your convenient bride just so you can—’
‘You little fool.’ He straightened as the mask of arrogance dropped to be replaced by barely contained fury. ‘Do you really think this is about saving the Atlanta deal?’
