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He turns, directing his speech to Remy himself. "I pretty much have it in the bag. And despite what Dare says, I am persuading Daisy to move the wedding up."
I give a sharp, cold laugh. "I doubt that. I also doubt that she is ready to be a mother. When we were dating, she was not even sure that she would have a single child, much less an heir and a spare."
My brother frowns at me, crosses his arms, and taps his foot. "When you were engaged, she was a different person. She met me and decided to change. She says that with me by her side as a partner, she can do anything. Including having ten kids, if that’s what I want."
"You know what? You fucking suck. And you're an asshole. But that doesn’t even matter. Because I have a plan that is already in motion. And shortly, you’ll all see just what it is. Trust me, it’s great. At least, it is for me.”
Burn’s body tenses, his hands balling into fists. He narrows his eyes toward my face. I can tell that he’s ready for violence.
Do I smirk at him? Or do I give him the same blank face that I have worked so hard to perfect?
"Fuck you!" Burn snarls. "I’ll fucking destroy you."
"I don’t see how, when I am going to win this competition and take over the family business."
Remy stands up with a suddenness that I wasn’t expecting. He scowls at everyone in the room, then slowly turns to Burn. "Burn, I’m not going to declare you the de facto winner just yet. I can’t be certain that you will give me a great-grandchild until you put that baby in my arms. And no, before you ask, adopting a child is not an option. It must be Morgan blood coursing through the veins of whatever child you bring in here."
My Uncle Felix stirs from the corner, rising from his chair and almost languidly walking over to the three of us. "No one is asking the important question. What if one or both are impotent?" He flashes a vicious smile. "I think you should include me in the race too. Let me do what your grandsons obviously can’t do. I can lock down a wife this week and be trying to get her pregnant as soon as tonight."
Remy straightens his back, the movement appearing to be excruciating. He peers at my uncle, his lips curling. "Absolutely not. You had your chance, Felix. You blew it. And as for the twins being impotent? He swings his gaze around to us, making me straighten my spine with a single, cold look. “You’ll see. You’ll all see. These boys are my flesh and blood. They’ll prove themselves virile."
"But Remy…" Burn tries to cut in.
Slicing his hand through the air decisively, Remy is done listening to us bicker. "That’s enough. Now get moving. I have better things to do than to listen to you whine. And boys? I expect to hear big news from you very soon. Don’t disappoint me."
Reflexively, the idea of what disappointing Remy looks like chills my veins.
"Dad, I was wondering if I could get a minute to talk to you about a new business venture." My father stands up, straightening the cuff of his wrinkled blue Oxford shirt.
"I don’t think so. Fuck off now. I have actual business to do."
Remy waves his hand dismissively and turns his back on us.
I shake my head, because Remy was right. This was an immense waste of my time.
As I am leaving Remy’s study, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I fish it out, scanning the text messages that I have received in the last thirty minutes with a bored, slightly annoyed eye. Then I see it.
A text from Talia Chance. Licking my lips, I open the message. It only says one word:
yes.
I stop in place, looking up thankfully and pumping my fist with a low hiss. "Yes."
Burn walks by me, purposefully slamming his shoulder into mine and sneering at me as he stalks past. But I hardly notice him.
Talia has just made my fucking day. No, she has made my whole life.
It’s stupid that all my life choices have been reduced down to this little display of who wants Remy’s love the most. But if Talia is convinced, I can move forward with my plan.
I head out of the estate, my mood shifting. I can’t seem to stop grinning like an idiot. As I climb into my Porsche, I make a phone call by pressing one of the buttons on the dashboard.
"Call my lawyers," I command. A second later, one of my lawyers picks up his phone.
"Mr. Morgan," he says. "I didn’t expect to hear from you before the deep sea drilling mineral rights were ready to be purchased. What can I help you with?"
"I need a prenuptial agreement," I say. I pull out of the driveway and head toward the town of Harwicke. "I’ll text you the nitty-gritty details, but I need an ironclad contract. I am paying two hundred and fifty thousand now and two hundred and fifty thousand when she has our first baby. I want to be certain that there is a nondisclosure agreement built in about the money, too. She can’t breathe a word about being paid or her child’s paternity to anyone.”
"Wow, okay. Most prenuptial agreements require both partners to wait a certain amount of time, say five years, before becoming fully vested. And then, of course, at ten or twenty years, there should be some wiggle room just in case you decide to divorce."
