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“So, what is it?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder, bringing his drink to his lips. “Shiloh.”
“You love her?” I say.
He shakes his head. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t. But she tried to fuck me over more than once.”
“Coleman?” I ask.
He clears his throat, leans forward, and rests his forearms on his thighs as he watches me for a silent moment.
“When this deal closes, she’s done.”
I don’t speak, mainly because I’m not sure exactly what he’s telling me. If I had to guess, it would be that he’s going to kill her, but I know Coleman better than that. Mainly because that sounds like some shit I would do, not him.
“She’s going to push a marriage, and I don’t want her. She’s already made it very clear that she’s willing to use manipulation tactics to get what she wants, and I want absolutely fucking nothing to do with that shit.”
“So you’re going to kill her?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “You’re going to help me.”
“Me?” I ask. “I’m already on thin fucking ice with Dad. There is no way in hell he’s going to be okay with this. He’ll strip me of my title.”
Coleman lifts his glass to his lips, taking another drink, and as I look him in the eyes, I realize he’s fucking drunk. Not just a little drunk, but he is already trashed.
“Do you care?” he asks. “If Dad gets pissed off for a minute, do you care? This is for the good of the family. Do you think that Shiloh won’t find a way to fuck me over, fuck the family over a different way? She is a spoiled little rich girl and is used to always getting what she wants.”
“All this because you don’t want to marry her?” I ask. “Seems a bit extreme.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “I won’t marry her. But this doesn’t have to do with that. It’s more along the lines of her trying to bring business into it and try to squash a deal that was already in the works.”
I agree with him. It was a bullshit move, and honestly, if it were anyone else, we probably would have orders to kill them. Bringing my glass to my lips, I empty the contents and hiss as it burns going down my throat.
“Do you have a woman for your wife in mind?” I ask.
He looks at his empty glass, then sets it down on the table, picks up the decanter and pours himself some more. All of this he does in silence, but before he picks up his glass again, I watch as he stands and turns from me.
With a sway, my brother walks over to his desk and reaches for an envelope. He picks it up, holding it for a moment, then turns and faces me. Without a word, he flings the envelope toward me. With zero effort, it lands in my lap.
I know what it is. This is his choice, or rather, his options to choose from. Slowly, I lift the flap of the envelope and reach inside. I can feel papers that have been stapled together as if they’re in packets.
Pulling them out, I clear my throat as I look at the top one. “Is this your choice?” I ask.
Coleman moves back to his seat, sinking down in the cushion before he reaches for his glass. He takes a drink, gulping the contents as he closes his eyes. I wait for him to tell me if this is her, but while I wait, I read her dossier.
She’s nineteen, a little young, but she’s the oldest of five siblings. She wants a family of her own, she’s pretty, and she enjoys music, movies, and quiet nights at home. I take everything that’s written here with a grain of salt.
Mainly because these are all written out to be the most enticing to a man of the family. She is meant to appear to be a homebody who won’t fuck around on her husband, an innocent virgin, and potentially a good housewife.
“The third one is my choice.”
His words surprise me. Lifting my head, I look at him, my brows snapping together. “The third?”
He dips his chin. “The third.”
Riffling through the packets, I pull out the third one and see her. She’s blonde, beautiful, and, again, young. They’re all young, though. She’s twenty-one, she’s in her last year of college and is anAstudent majoring in accounting. She’s the second oldest child of four. Her brother is studying to be a doctor, her younger sister finishing high school this year.
“She’s pretty,” I murmur.
