Page 9 of The Arrogant's Redemption

I’m not the kind of man who hesitates once a decision’s made. I laid out my terms to the woman I chose, and she accepted every one.

A marriage of convenience. Separate lives under the same roof. Two children—max. A pre-negotiated divorce in five years. A mutually beneficial open sexual relationship, no emotional involvement allowed. Discretion regarding affairs. Ten million dollars for an amicable divorce when the time comes, although I doubt I’ll endure five years.

Still, it’s the best deal possible—and the contract is scheduled to be signed tonight. The engagement will be released to the global press right after.

Perfect, from my point of view. Heirs will come, and I’ll be free in just a few years.

I should feel satisfied, but I don’t. Not even close. The idea of wasting years with someone who has nothing in common with me—even in an open marriage—fills me with irritation.

The door to my office swings open, and the two men who might as well share my DNA walk in.

“The expansion starts soon,” Athanasios says, skipping any kind of greeting and dropping into one of the chairs in front of my desk—completely unaware of the mess in my usually pragmatic mind.

“What’s wrong?” William asks. Not because he’s the most emotionally intuitive of us but because he has that annoying ability to pick up on what others try to hide.

“Nothing,” I lie. I’m not ready to talk about Jodie yet. Maybe later—after tonight’s dinner at my parents’ house, where the engagement will be officially announced. “Any news on who faked the DNA tests?”

Their expressions darken.

“No,” Athanasios answers, rubbing both hands over his face—a rare gesture from someone who usually keeps a tight lid on emotion.

Months ago, the DNA results of two of Athanasios’s med students—one Italian, one Australian—were swapped during their training, causing great inconvenience and embarrassment to my business partner.

We know it wasn’t a mistake. But despite all our efforts, we still have no idea who pulled the stunt.

“Maybe it’s time to involve the police,” I suggest.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” William cuts in. “We’ve already paid experts from all over the world and gotten nowhere. The chances the police will do better are slim to none. The only thing we’ll accomplish is giving the bastard a heads-up that we’re onto him—and bringing bad press down on us.”

“If he has half a working brain, he already knows.”

“He?” William smirks. “Could be a ‘they.’ Or even a ‘she.’ God knows we’ve left more than a few pissed-off women in our wake—especially back in med school.”

“There’s no way it was more than one person,” Athanasios says. “This was a solo act. Someone patient, playing the long game, messing with our heads while we try to guess when the next strike is coming.”

“Or just some bored tech nerd with a God complex, looking for a thrill.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s pure blasphemy—because we’re the only ones who get to play God,” William says.

“With bodies, not minds,” I correct.

“Speak for yourself,” Athanasios grins. “I like messing with people’s minds.” It’s a rare moment of humor from him, thanks to his specialty.

“You having dinner with your parents tonight?” William asks.

“Yeah. Jodie and I will be there.”

They exchange a look, and I catch the faint lines of amusement around their eyes.

We’ve known each other too long—not much needs to be said aloud.

Athanasios is married to Brooklyn?3—the woman he pulled out of a coma. William is about to become a father. His relationship with Taylor?4, the mother of his daughter, still has its complications, but he’s on track. They’re both following through with the plan we made years ago: building families. And they both seem satisfied with that fact.

Me?

Even with my “marriage plan” in motion, I feel like I’ve already jumped.

And the rope is tightening around my neck long before I hit the ground.

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