Page 111 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim

“And we’re going to need every minute of it if Celeste moves forward with this ridiculous idea.”

At Everett’s mocking words, Brennan slams his fist on the table, making the silverware jump.

People at the closest table glance in our direction, but no one else does, not even the waitstaff.

“One more comment out of you,” Brennan warns the man.

“Goddamn it.” Everett rakes his hand into his longish hair. “Someone has to have the guts to state the fucking obvious. This is a goddamn goat fuck, and I can’t believe…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dorian

The moment settles—too still, too polite. That’s how I know something’s coming.

“Believe?” Isla prompts, unfazed.

“We’re wasting our time on this bullshit when I have real campaigns to run.”

“This is a real campaign,” Celeste clarifies.

“No. It’s the biggest Hail Mary in the history of politics.” Everett leans forward, fingers steepled as if he’s about to deliver a sermon no one wants to hear. “Let me set your expectations.”

Our meals are served, interrupting the conversation.

“You want to unseat an incumbent.In fucking Texas.”

He says it like we’ve announced plans to relocate the moon.

Unbothered, Celeste sips her Twinings English Breakfast tea.

“That will take a miracle. Ellery sits in the chair like it’s athrone. It will take a stick of dynamite to blast his ass back to Dallas where he belongs.”

Celeste gives a polite smile. “Which is why I hired you.”

Everett sighs. “Even unpopular incumbents don’t go quietly. And he’s not just entrenched. He’s calcified. Voter loyalty is like cement, and not the quick-set kind—this shit’s been drying for decades.”

Beside me, Isla shifts slightly. I glance at her, but her expression is unreadable.

He levels me with his glare. “You’ll need money. Notfundraiser-at-the-country-clubmoney. I mean backroom, six-figures-in-an-envelope, favor-trading money. And time. A year and a half minimum.”

“We don’t have that much time,” Celeste points out.

He drags a hand through his hair. “Relentless scheduling. Every handshake, every baby kiss, every insult you’ll have to eat with a smile—it’ll all be choreographed.”

He ticks it off like bullets on a hit list.

“You’ll live on coffee and adrenaline. You’ll miss sleep, sex, weddings, funerals. Hell, by the end, you might miss your own damn wedding anniversary and not even know it.” His gaze flicks briefly to Isla.

I want to gut punch him.

Everett continues, undeterred. “And Ellery? He’ll outspend us five to one. He’ll hit back before we even swing. Attack ads, whisper campaigns, leaked documents, anonymous tips. You’ll be painted as either a slick outsider or a dangerous unknown. And, West?” He glances at Brennan. “They’ll come for you too. Use you to question Vale’s judgment. His stability.” Then he looks at me again. “Your sexuality.”

My spine straightens, my jaw clenches. Brennan doesn’t move. He doesn’t have to.

Everett leans forward, his voice cutting through the haze. “And on that note. This…arrangement.” His gaze flicks between me and Brennan. “You and West. Whatever the fuck you have going on is a liability. Voters don’t like messy.”

My jaw clenches, teeth grinding.