Page 1

Nolan

H is granddaughter and his business came as one. It was a package deal. I wanted the business and could not give two shits about his spoiled granddaughter. But hours of tense negotiations later, the old man would not budge. He was driving a hard bargain and what was worse; he knew I was close to relenting.

"So what's it going to be, son?"

I almost scoffed at the word 'son' before I stopped myself. Kenneth Burgess was proud, and any perceived slight against him might tank this deal. I had to leave this place with a deal. At the very least, concrete assurance that the W. Burgess company was mine. My brandy, held too long, warmed my hands. And when I took a small sip, the drink didn't give me the courage I was seeking.

There was no way in hell I was marrying his awful granddaughter. The proposal was downright archaic. It made me uneasy just considering it. Based on my limited understanding of her, she was a scandalous nightclub socialite whose actions partially contributed to the family's downfall. Marrying her would be a headache. Maybe that's why he made the ridiculous proposal. To get her off his hands.

My gaze darted around the grand hall we were in. The room had the scent of cleaning detergent. The ornate chairs look new, as though they had been upholstered recently. The glass table between Kenneth and me clashed with the room's turn-of-the-century decor. As though it was a recent purchase. Lipstick on a pig.

The Burgess decline mirrored the house's deterioration. Its gilded age architecture made it look grand and imposing, but the cracks in the walls and the peeling paint showed how expensive it was for the family to maintain what was their remaining home. They had nothing left except for this Newport home and a prestigious but failing business. Even his New York City townhouse was rented. And yet he wanted to pretend he had the upper hand.

In the corner of the room, a man in a black suit stood still, aloof to our conversation. A bodyguard? I swallowed a scoff. Did Kenneth think I was here to kill him?

I turned my attention back to Kenneth. "Does your granddaughter know you're selling her to the highest bidder?"

"Ha! She doesn't mind!" He wheezed as he spoke. His chest sounded heavy. He was not long for this world. An ashtray sat next to his brandy on a small glass coffee table beside his chair. Cancer? Or bronchitis? The disease left him skeletal and frail, a stark contrast to his former, robust self. Whatever ailed him had to be the reason he was selling.

"As long as she has her hands on a big chunk of change, she'll be fine. She expects an allowance fitting her lifestyle, a trivial matter for someone of your means."

Bile rose inside me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. His callous nature made me want to renege on the entire deal all together.

Kenneth Burgess chuckled. "You should learn to hide your disgust well, son. I didn't come up with this agreement. It was all your father's idea." He coughed and punched his chest with his fist. "He wanted to unite the families, you see. Create a dynasty and all that. I thought the idea was ridiculous, but I agreed, anyway. I figured if you were to turn halfway decent as your father, my granddaughter marrying you, wouldn't be such a bad idea."

This was the first time hearing this. My father and Kenneth Burgess hated each other so much that my father tried to destroy Kenneth's company. And when he couldn't, he tried to buy it until his dying day. The two men were notorious enemies.

It was also the first time I heard someone call my father decent. He was many things, but a good person he was not. Maybe Kenneth Burgess meant it in another way. One where devils such as him and my father admired the demonic aspects in each other.

"You don't have to abide by it, of course. But that means you won't get the business."

"Can't you just sell the company to me without the old-fashioned practice?"

He scoffed. "Do you think yourself too good for her?"

In a way, yes. Every account of her disgusted me. She fell in the category someone like me avoided. But every deal has its compromises, my father would say. And should I buy Kenneth Burgess's entire company at a bargain, I should at least meet his daughter. I leaned back in my chair. "Where is she?"

Kenneth stood up and staggered to the fireplace, where he pulled a rope dangling next to it. He shuffled back to his chair and a couple of minutes later, the doors to the room opened. A woman entered. She made her way to us and came to stand between Kenneth and I.

Aelin Burgess. My heart stopped. My breath caught in my throat. I was familiar with her solely through her reputation. I had only seen her in pictures and videos, and they did not do her justice. I thought she was pretty, but no. She was beautiful. No wonder the old man acted stubborn. His granddaughter was stunning. Her thick, wavy blonde hair bounced as she walked. Her white tennis dress displayed shapely legs that, unless for her height, would have graced many a billboard. My gaze paused at her substantial cleavage before rising to her oval face and got caught in a pool of big blue eyes.

Kenneth cleared his throat, dragging my gaze away from Aelin. A mischievous grin was playing on his mouth. He had as bad a poker face as I. He was aware of the effect of his granddaughter's beauty on men. Playing it coy, he introduced us and she settled beside him.

"He wants to know if you're a willing participant in this entire affair."

She turned her gaze on me and nodded. There was something about her that raised alarm bells. Maybe it was the odd situation, or the vulnerability in her eyes, and drew an intense need inside me to protect her. Whatever it was, I couldn't ignore it.

"Can I speak to her alone?"

Kenneth raised his eyebrows; he whispered something to Aelin before staggering to his feet. "I'll be in the study if you need me."

I waited until Kenneth was well out of the room to speak to her. "You're fine with this?"

Aelin raised her chin. "As long as you are."

The sound of her voice made my body sing. It was sultry, evoking lurid images in my mind that made it hard to concentrate.

"I am not exactly fine with it. But I need your family business, and I am willing to do anything to have it."

"Even marry a woman with a terrible reputation like mine?"

A small smile played on my lips. Funny how she didn't look like I thought she would. At that moment, she looked more like a librarian than a party girl. Even though she was trying so hard to appear unbothered, I could sense that it was all an act.

"A woman who knows what she is. Refreshing."

"Most people hide behind fakeries. I prefer to be upfront at the outset."

She was as mercenary as her grandfather. That was a good thing, right? Better a mercenary than someone fooling themselves into believing love might grow out of the marriage. But something wasn't adding up. I couldn't understand why, and I should have ran out of that decrepit house as soon as Kenneth mentioned his proposal, but something else, a much greater force, kept me rooted.

"What's in it for you?" I asked.

"Money. Plain and simple."

"Ah. Your grandfather said he will release your trust fund if you marry someone he approves of or something like that?"

She gave a slight shrug. "Something like that."

"And you are willing to marry me, an old man, to get it?"

She chuckled. "You've just turned forty. That's hardly old. I think twenty-six-year-old me can survive."

"You looked me up?"

"I never go into a business deal blind, Nolan Hawthorne."

Aelinsat straight, her back flat against the rococo sofa. Her well-manicured hands clasped on top of her lap. The sophistication she commanded made me wonder if the stories I heard about her were true. Because right now, she looked like she would make a good wife for any man, especially one in high society. There was something familiar about her. She reminded me of my mother and not in a good way. But aren't they the same breed? High-class women who like to party and don't care how the bill is paid ?

Escaping women resembling my mother, only to wed one. The irony was not lost on me.

"Good," I said. "I'll talk to my lawyers to draft a prenup and they'll be in touch with you soon."

I didn't have to marry her forever. In two years, I would achieve my goals, and I would be a happily divorced man, possessing an empire surpassing even my father's wildest dreams.