Page 12 of With This Ring

We follow behind him to the end of the hall. The room we step into has a large table that can seat at least twenty people. The large windows overlook the entirety of Yorkley, the lights of the evening not yet illuminated, but I’d wager the view is nice when it is. Annoyance and a twinge of jealousy nags at me because the Whitlocks have the tallest building on the strip. It’s the one business they got over us and me and Pop are still sore about it.

A bar lines the opposite wall, all manner of top shelf liquor stocked up. If I trusted the Whitlocks, I would pour a glass of Jack just to get through this farce, but I don’t, so I’ll have to wait until I get home to drink this nightmare away.

Dominic stands and shakes Pop’s hand. Neither of them looks happy about it, but they’re not openly hostile. Not like Carter and I are. He glares at me just as I glare at him. I can’t believe our dads think this is a good idea. It’s no secret that we fucking loathe each other.

Maybe that’s the point. Every other family will know that we’re together not because we love each other and want to live happily ever after, but because we put aside our differences to make our families stronger. It’ll send a clear message that we’re willing to do anything to survive, even if it means working with our enemies.

Pop and I sit at the other end of the table. Nothing is said for many untold minutes, everyone getting the measure of each other.

Dominic’s guards glare at ours, distrust mirrored on everyone’s face. If someone makes a wrong move, it’ll be a blood bath in this room.

Finally, Dominic says, “You all can go. We need to speak privately.” The men we brought with us regard Pop as the Whitlock men regard Dominic. Then they take their leave. When we’re alone, Dominic says, “This isn’t the most ideal situation, but we need each other.”

“We could always have a truce without marriage,” I mutter.

“For once, I agree with the bitch across from me,” Carter says.

“Fucking enough,” Dominic declares with a hard edge to his tone. “A marriage tells the world that we are stronger together and we will fight for each other. What are promises? Words that can be easily broken. But with you two married, you become family. When you fuck with family, you die. What is it that’s so hard to understand about that?”

“I got it, Dad,” Carter says, though he doesn’t sound happy about it.

“How will we merge our businesses?” Pop asks. I should have known he’d want to know that above anything else. “I have businesses in my name and Kai has some in his.”

“Same with me and Carter.”

Pop pauses and seems like he’s chewing over his words. Then begrudgingly, he says, “We keep our shit separate for anything they came into the marriage with. They can buy and accumulate other shit together and it can be in both St. Clair and Whitlock names. Any kids they have will inherit everything.”

Kids? I balk at that thought. Not at having kids, I’ve always wanted kids. Two. But having them with Carter? It’s never been a thought in my mind. Judging by how quick tempered he is, he’d probably be a horrible father. I already have a shit dad; I won’t subject my future children to that.

Carter looks about as unimpressed with the idea as I do. His lips are turned down at the corners, his eyes brimming with irritation. Then I meet his eyes and know nothing will beaccomplished if left up to us. If I could get away with it, I’d toss him out this window and smile when he paints the sidewalk below with his blood. Kids wouldn’t be relevant then.

“Carter is an accountant,” Dominic says, thumbing to his son. Pop already told me that. I’m wondering why he’s so fucking proud of that fact. I went to college too. “He can go over your books and make sure everything looks good.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them both to fuck off, that my guys can handle it all, but Pop talks over me. “And you have that new restaurant that’s been halted because of that construction company that went under. Kai has a company that can get started immediately after the wedding.”

“Speaking of the wedding,” Dominic says, leaning forward and threading his fingers together, “two weeks is too long to wait. We don’t know when someone will try something new and ramp up these skirmishes to an all-out confrontation. Two of our warehouses were hit, halting shipments to two different organizations out of state. It’s fucking with our money. The sooner you two,” he points between me and Carter, “are wed, the sooner whoever is fucking with us will back off.”

“How soon are you thinking?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Next week,” Carter says through clenched teeth, not looking happy about this bullshit either.

“That’s too soon,” I tell them, not caring how petulant it makes me sound. “It’s not enough time to?—”

“It’s plenty of time,” Pop cuts me off and I narrow my eyes at the side of his head. “Seven days, and we’ll have a wedding large enough that every family from here to New York will know about it.” Pop looks at me in challenge. After a few beats, I look away, fire dancing in my veins.

First, he plans for us to get married, then puts a time limit on how long I have to stick it out. Now we go from two weeks forme to wrap my mind around a fucking marriage to Carter to one fucking week.

Carter looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I ignore it and throw my hands up. “Whatever. Just tell me where to be and what to wear. I need some air. Pop, I’ll be at the car.”

I can feel his glare on my back, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s called all the shots. This is his wedding; I’m just the hapless groom standing in. Carter and I are just pawns in the games of the heads of our families. If we were the bosses, this fucking sham marriage wouldn’t have even been considered.

One of Pop’s guards follows me since he ordered Nico to stay behind.

Maybe this marriage won’t be a total wash. I’ll be able to do what the fuck I want to do without being under Pop’s thumb. With all I do for our family, you’d think he wouldn’t give me as much shit as he does and let me make my own decisions.

Knowing I won’t be under his roof and under his control fills me with mixed emotions. I’m so used to his bullshit, it’s almost second nature. Now I’ll be free.

But am I just exchanging one prison for another?

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