Page 22 of Wicked Arrangement

“No of course not. I wouldn’t have agreed to this or slept with you otherwise,” I reply frustratedly.

“Well then, I see no reason why this should be an issue for you,” he states deadpan, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “I will of course be subject to the same stipulations if this is your concern. If you wish for me to wear condoms, I can. I will not disrespect you by dating while you’re here. And I can assure you I am disease-free and regularly tested.”

If I’m being honest, part of my issue was this, he was asking it of me but wouldn’t do the same in return. That he’d be out dating and fucking while I’m here, or that he’d refuse to wear a condom if I said I wasn’t on contraception. I don’t want to admit it to him though.

“Fine. It stays.”

Again, I fall silent, reading the final page of the contract.

“Wait, what the fuck is this!” I exclaim. “If I fall pregnant with your child, I have to sign over all rights to you as the primary caregiver?” My mouth pops open, eyebrows shooting up as I look at him in shock.

He remains passive. With a shrug, he replies, “If you’re on contraception, this shouldn’t be an issue for you. It’s not going to happen.”

“Well, yes but, I mean… there’s always a slim chance,” I sputter. I get the contraceptive injection every three months, so I’m not overly concerned, but still.

“Yes. And in the event of that slim chance, I would be the natural choice to raise the child. I have the finances and stability to do so,” his tone is steely, as though he isn’t going to budge on this.

“I don’t give a fuck how rich you are, you can’t buy babies and expect mothers to sign them over without a thought!” I pick up the contract papers, flicking them with my hand in frustration.

“There are many women in this situation who would deliberately try to deceive me and fall pregnant in order to get access to my fortune, I am merely trying to protect myself from that. As I said, I do not envisage this scenario happening,” he calmly and patiently explains.

“I am not one of those people and there’s no way I’m signing this. I don’t want a child. But if by some miracle I fell pregnant, I would never abandon them. Not for any amount of money in the world. You can add in a clause that I don’t geta penny of your money beyond the standard minimum child support or hell, nothing at all if you don’t want them in your life. But I will not sign this,” I declare, slamming the paper down for effect and fixing him with a stern glare of my own. “And how dare you accuse me or assume otherwise. I will not have you question my integrity or think that just because you’re rich, you’re better than me. If you do, we can end this right now and I will pay you back every cent owed over time,” I hiss.

A look of respect crosses his face, and he slowly nods. “You’re right. I apologize. I’m afraid my business has made me a skeptic. I did not mean to offend you or imply I am better than you. I will amend this as you wish.”

His apology takes the wind out of my sails. “Thank you,” I reply.

We sit in awkward silence for a moment. He takes the contract from me, scribbling in the margins the amendments we discussed before calling over one of his men and instructing them to give it to his lawyer to fix.

“I spoke with the hospital this morning, your grandmother will be discharged today and moved to the private care home we discussed. I thought perhaps you would like to visit her and accompany her to the care home?” he states, metaphorically proffering an olive branch.

“Yes, I would,” I reply gratefully. “What will you do while I’m there?” I ask.

“I thought I would accompany you if that’s alright with you? And after that, would you want to come back here with me?” he asks cautiously, seemingly worried I want to leave and end our agreement after this discussion.

“Yes, that’s fine by me,” I reply, grateful that he’s given me the option of refusing.

I don’t think it will be an issue for him to meet Gran, she’ll probably love him, but if she’s in a bad way, he can wait outside. I don’t think I could handle the embarrassment or seeing him pity me.

“So, you will stay?” he asks, his tone almost hopeful.

In this moment, the cool businessman demeanor slips, and he seems almost vulnerable, I can’t help but soften toward him because of it.

“Yes, I’ll stay,” I concede with a small smile.

Perhaps it’s a terrible idea and I should just cut my losses and run now. I’m way over my head. Regardless of a contract, I’ve no doubt a man like Yaroslav Volkov always gets what he wants, one way or another. And yet, I want to stay. I feel drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. I don’t care if I might get burned.

Chapter 13

Yaroslav

“Gran!” Kim exclaims, her face lighting up as we enter the hospital room where her grandmother sits, propped up in bed, dressed and ready to leave

“Well hi there Kimmy, where have you been?” her grandmother replies in a musical accent, it’s not southern, my ear has gotten quite good at picking up that. I’m thinking it might be Caribbean, though which island I don’t know. The old woman’s face splits into a wide smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry Grammy, did you miss me?” Kim deflects, sitting down on the chair by the bedside.

I feel as though I’m intruding on a private moment, watching the natural ease and clear love that they share for each other. I stand, hovering awkwardly in the doorway as they chatter away.

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