Page 23 of Between Commitment and Betrayal

“I have a guesthouse. Completely detached from my own,” I informed her, straightening the suit jacket I was so sick of wearing already.

“Of course you do. Everyone here does.” She shut her eyes, frustrated. “I’m not like you all, Mr. Hardy. I can’t… I don’t live this lifestyle like Melinda and Anastasia and—”

“Don’t include me in the lineup,” Dom jumped in, a small smile on his face. She glanced over at him, and I saw how her eyes softened.

“Dom, you know how ridiculous this is,” Evie said to my brother. Seeing how they'd became friends, how he could calm her in this moment pissed me off. It pissed me off because I wasn't me.

“It’s only a change in location and a license for a year,” I reminded her, stopping her from engaging with my brother any further. This was between her and me. “Have your own life. It won’t really interfere with mine.” She chewed her cheek for a moment, and I knew I had her. “If you can’t handle it, I can try to work with Melinda and Anastasia about your mother’s yoga studio.”

That had her narrowing her eyes. Everly didn’t want to ask that woman for anything. I understood why too. She’d been vicious to her since the moment they’d first met. “There will be rules if we do this.”

I smiled in triumph. “Of course there will be.”

She stood so abruptly the chair flew out from behind her, but I caught it before it hit the ground. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I need to read over the will again.”

“If you agree”—Mrs. Johnson cleared her throat—“there will be further stipulations that can’t be read until month three of your marriage.”

“What?” we both said in unison.

“It’s unconventional, but I assure you, it’s nothing you can’t handle and—”

“We need to see the documentation.”

“Legally, I’m contracted—” She glanced at my legal team. Well, they were also Carl’s legal team. “My hands are tied, Declan.”

I glared at all of them. “You realize I could fire you all.”

“Sure. But we’re the best,” one of them stated. “And you know that. These are his last wishes.”

Was he tearing up? Jesus Christ.

“Fuck,” I swore angrily and glanced at my brothers. “Guys?”

“Your call. Everly’s call. We’ll be behind you the whole way,” Dimitri said, loyal as always.

“Now or never, Declan,” Mrs. Johnson pushed.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Everly screeched. “Are you insane?”

“You want the damn yoga studio or not? We can always back out at three months.” She had to understand we lost everything if we didn’t.

She took two deep breaths and folded those clean, unmanicured fingers together. Then she pulled at the assortment of necklaces from under the collar of her dress and held them tight. So tight I knew her nails were cutting into her skin as she mumbled, “I’m gonna regret this.”

“Me too,” I grumbled. I met the stares of my brothers. “Don’t tell a fucking soul until I say.”

“One moment, then.” Mrs. Johnson got up and opened the door, and in walked a tall man with gray hair in a black suit. “Meet our ordained minister. I’ll be the witness, and we’ll get you two married off.”

The whirlwind began.

We repeated vows. We made promises that were completely empty. We made commitments we weren’t sure we could keep.

Then, the lawyers put papers in front of us. They explained our prenup would keep our finances and assets completely separate in the case of divorce. We signed. They explained the conditions of the will. We signed.

They pointed to our marriage license.

We signed on the dotted fucking lines.