Page 44 of Dirty Husband

I guess I should get used to it. A million dollars buys me a year without love. It's not the worst fate in the world.

But, at the moment, in this big living room, all alone, with this secret on my chest—

Right now, it feels like it.

Chapter Thirteen

Shepard

Even though I spent all night with my lawyer, trying to find a loophole in that bastard's agreement, I read the paperwork one more time.

The terms are clear.

Thirty days to win Jasmine's heart. To convince a board of trustees I'm a healthy, normal man who is capable of love.

Because the bastard knows he ruined it for me. And he wants to punish me for breaking free of him.

Of course, that's the problem.

The board is five men. One of them is the bastard who's pulling my strings. Another is the bastard's lapdog.

Which means there are three men who need to believe Jasmine and I are madly in love. Worse, they need to find her charming enough they vote in my favor.

They're the types who listen to their peers. If we convince the world, we'll convince them.

If we don't—

I can't consider that option.

It's not about the contract. It's not about losing the company I built from scratch. It's not even about the money.

It's about beating the bastard who's pulling my strings. He doesn't get to control me. He doesn't get to win. Not again.

I shove the papers in the bottom drawer of my desk. Turn the lock. No one else, and I mean no one—not my brother, or his fiancée, or my assistants, or Jasmine—is going to learn about this.

It's bad enough the lawyer knows.

It's bad enough it exists.

I suck a breath through my teeth. Straighten my tie. Smooth my jacket.

I'm exhausted. Coffee isn't enough, but it's all I have for now.

I move past my assistant's desk. Straight to the kitchen in the middle of the office. It's early enough I should be alone—the sky is still orange with sunrise—but I'm not.

Ian is in his office, at his computer. A few months ago, I would have been sure he was working. But recently, he confessed he's fallen for an online friend. Or maybe an online obsession is a better way to put it.

He follows her life from afar. She doesn't know he exists.

He swears it's not about her looks or some need to possess her. He swears he's only interested in her as an artist. A writer. A cultural scholar. Something like that.

Who can keep up with Ian's dalliances?

I suppose I can't lecture him about deception. Not that I would. I understand the way the world works. Nice people who play by the rules lose.

People who are willing to do whatever it takes—

They're the ones who win.