Page 23 of Vicious Arrangement
The waitress hesitates, looks at Aria, but she just nods.
The moment the girl goes, Aria leans in. “I can order for myself.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“And what do you mean, be taken care of?”
“Well taken care of.”
A blush rises up her throat to her cheeks, and I could win money on where her thoughts just went. “If I do agree to this and right now the jury’s out, just because we’re married doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you.”
I smirk. “Are you sure? I’ve got it on good authority that I’m very hard to resist. You’re attracted to me, I’ll give you a week, max, before you come begging for a taste of me.”
But Aria doesn’t play the way I figured. Instead of fighting back and turning this into foreplay, she crosses her arms and stares me down.
“There won’t be a marriage at all,” she says, “unless you’re upfront with me. What are you getting out of this? It’s not me, we both know that. So, what is it?”
“What it is, is none of your business?—”
“But it is.” She puts her hands on the table. “Because I’m not marrying you if you don’t tell me.”
“You clearly love your grandfather,” I say. “Or he’s blackmailing you into this. Whichever. It doesn’t matter because I’m the one holding all the fucking cards, all the power. You say no, Sanderson Inc. is no more.”
Aria grabs her drink and takes a sip as the sommelier comes up with the wine. I taste it. “It’s fine.”
After he’s poured and left, I stare her down. “I can ruin your grandfather’s company” —I snap my fingers— “just like that.”
But she’s definitely smarter than she looks. Her sweet smile is full of poison. “I’m pretty sure I can fuck you over just as hard by not marrying you.”
And she’s right, she can. Damn it. I don’t like vulnerabilities, and I don’t like women who call me out on things, who are too fucking smart for their own good.
She should’ve been dazzled, not just by me, but by the offer, the money. Sanderson is a speck, Templeton’s a giant. But she’s hit the nail on the head.
Maybe I should have apologized for being late properly, or called her… I have her number. But I honestly got caught up in work, and then because Asher had one of those rare days where he couldn’t be home, some emergency, somewhere, I don’t do the shit he does, so I don’t really ask. IT, that’s it.
But I worked late, and then collected Joshy from daycare—and we spent time until Asher got home.
She stayed, though, which tells me she wants to do this. Will do it. Probably for her grandfather.
Aria doesn’t touch her wine, doesn’t touch the starters when they land on the table, and finally, I sigh.
“I need this,” I say. “I need to marry you to gain control of my inheritance and my grandfather’s company.”
“Why me?” She frowns. “I’m no one, and there must be plenty of women who’d happily marry you for your status and money.”
Annoyance flares bright, and I savagely cut a piece of the bacon and spear some green leaves. It cuts like butter, so it’s not that satisfying to attack it. And… it tastes incredible, melting, crisp edged, the smoky tomato and egg sauce insane.
She keeps staring. I put down the fork. “My grandfather specified it be you.”
“Me what?”
“That I marry. And I don’t fucking know why.”
Aria slow claps, which pisses me off. “Thanks for the honesty—finally. I don’t understand it, but fine, I’ll do it.” She picks up her spoon and tries the soup.
“Good,” I say, “we’ll get this set up and go ahead?—”
“One more thing.” She takes a sip of wine. “I’ll agree to this on one condition, that Angus is welcome at your place, too.”
