Page 76 of Morally Black Betrothal

“What’s the deal then? She got something on you? A video of her pegging you or something? Seriously, you can tell us.”

“How much is in the prenup?” Owen’s voice was even colder than usual.

I turned to face him. “What?”

“Ten million? Twenty?”

Jesus Christ, had he bugged my files?

“Obviously, she’s not doing this out of love,” he continued. “And considering the longest relationship you’ve ever had is with your fifty-eight-year-old assistant, I don’t actually think you’re capable of that either?—”

“Fuck you very much,” I cut in. “Despite your disdain for me, brother, I do have some lovable qualities.”

“Name one,” Ronan said, smirking. “And if you say your dick, you lose.”

“Fuck you too.”

“No, thanks.” Ronan laughed, shaking his head. “I hope you’re at least smashing that ass. The candy striper gig could be legitimately hot. Think you can get her to wear her apron and nothing else?”

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that.”

The order slipped out more intensely than I intended. They could bash me all they liked—I’d taken it for almost forty years, so my skin was basically iron. But for some reason, even the hint of an insult lobbed Simone’s way made me murderous.

I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

I turned to face them all, meeting their gazes one by one until they looked away. “Simone—and you’d better learn her name, you fucks—and I are getting married. Accept it and show her some basic fucking respect when she does come around. Understood?”

“And it just happens to help you get the exact position you wanted?” Shea wondered. “That’s convenient.”

I clenched my jaw. “Apparently, it did.”Also, shut the fuck up.

Everyone stared at me, waiting for me to break.

I didn’t move a muscle.

“Whatever,” Owen said finally. “A sudden engagement is hardly a marriage, especially to someone like that.”

I turned. “Someone like what, Owen?”

We bristled at each other across the room, and I dared him to say what they were all undoubtedly thinking.

That out of all the choices I had for an arranged engagement, why would I choose her?

That she was a nobody. A fortune hunter. A harlot looking to trap me.

Owen, however, was smart enough not to.

His eyes met mine with a cold, hard challenge. Taunting me to lose my shit. Daring me to give up my secrets.

Well, fuck him. Owen always thought he had my number, but he had no idea what I was capable of. Especially, I was starting to realize, when it came to the sweet stranger I was supposedly planning to marry.

“Mr. Black?”

Before either of us officially won the staring match, there was a knock on the conference room door, which then opened as Ruth walked in.

I frowned. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in JP with Simone until this evening.”

For the first time maybe ever, my assistant looked unsure. “Yes, sir. Things didn’t quite go as expected. And right now…you have a visitor.”