Page 31

He’s not a morning person. Never has been in my experience, and I guess that’s something else that hasn’t changed about him—and he confirms it with his response.

“Normally, I get something on the way to the office. But this is special… our first meal as husband and wife. I got up and cooked.”

He nods at the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink.

I scoff. “I hope you don’t expect me to wash those.”

I had a roommate once. We had a pact: if we share a meal, whoever cooks doesn’t have to clean. I’d do the same with my real husband, but as far as I’m concerned, Adrian is just my business partner.

That’s the conclusion I came to last night before I finally fell asleep. Most arranged marriages are really glorified business mergers, only instead of between businesses, they’re between families. I’ll do what’s expected of me, but emotions? Feelings?Love?They have no place here.

I might not hate him the way I wish I could, but that doesn’t mean I have to love him. At most, there can be a common interest in surviving the Order and that’s it.

And kisses, I guess. I’m still not quite sure how I got roped into having to kiss him whenever he wants, but if that will keep smoke out of the house… I guess I can tolerate it.

The way he answers me makes me think we might be on the same page; at least, when it comes to me being his servant.

“I have a cleaning woman who comes in every other day. If I don’t get to them before I leave, she will.”

Oh. I mean, I guess I didn’t really expect him to take care of this huge ass house on his own. Plus, the Hellers have always been mega loaded. He grew up on nannies and governesses and a private chauffeur until he got his license. A cleaning woman would be standard, huh?

Still, I can’t help but choke a little on my swallow of pancake at the thought of another woman walking around this house with Adrian in it…

Don’t be jealous, Loni. You have no right to be jealous?—

I swallow the lump of pancakes. Then, in as casual a tone as I can manage, I ask, “A woman?”

“Yes. Mrs. Gammond. You remember her, don’t you?”

Actually, I do.

The entire year of our affair, we had to find ways to be together without anyone seeing us. Sneaking away to my house was a no-go. My father’s house is positioned in a cul-de-sac full of Owed families. We would’ve been spotted almost immediately if I brought him home.

But the Hellers had a secluded house on the outskirts of town. His parents were rarely home, either, so it was easy to use his bedroom when an empty classroom at school or the bleachers behind it weren’t available.

I can count the number of times I ran into his parents on no hands because, yup, I never saw them any of the times Adrian let me into his home. But Mrs. Gammond? A kind woman in her early fifties back then, she was the Hellers’ housekeeper.

“Yes.”

“I poached her from my parents when I moved out. I doubled her pay, and she works half the time. It was a beneficial arrangement for the both of us. She’ll do your laundry if you leave it in the hamper, and tidy up your room. Other than that, she’ll give you your space while you get used to your home.”

Home.

This is my home.

I’m not going back to Bridgewater. I mean, I already knew that. I mailed my key back to the landlord two days after I arrived in Harmony Heights and paid the rest of my lease out of Dad’s account to apologize for breaking it so soon. Technically, I had a stipend from work because I moved there to be close to a couple of our clients, but since I also contacted my boss about a family emergency that drew me back home, I didn’t want to use the firm’s money anymore.

I’m just lucky that they let me return to full-time remote work while I ‘take care of my dying dad’.

Hey. It’s not a lie. That’s exactly what would’ve happened if I stayed in Bridgewater against the Order’s wishes. Now that I’mhere and doing what’s expected of me, he’ll make a miraculous recovery, but for now… my Dad’s health very much depends on this marriage with Adrian.

Partnership, I remind myself. And if I’m going to make this work until I can find a way out of it—especially since ‘til death do you part’ gives me a little wiggle room, and the life of an Owed is a lot more dangerous than I once thought it was—there need to be some rules.

We set some last night. Mainly because we discussed some of the Order’s laws, but I’m ready to set some of my own.

So, in between bites of a breakfast that tastes better than it has any right to, I tell Adrian, “I want to keep my job.”

“If it’s about money?—”