Page 11 of Vengeful Seduction
It didn’t really take very long. Only eight days had passed since the funeral, but it might have taken longer if not for Brent.
I had been lost in my own world, but Brent had never been the sort of man to let me get away with that. He was my best friend, and really, my only close friend. For so many years my main focus had been keeping my business going and friendship fell to the wayside.
He’d sort of adopted me, in a way. So when I got depressed and started rejecting his invitations to go hang out, he had something to say about it. In this case, it was more about doing than saying, since he showed up at my house uninvited with a case of my favorite beer.
At that point, there was nothing to do but bow to the inevitable, and it was while I was quite a few beers into that case that I opened my mouth and started to speak. What can I say in my defense? I wasn’t used to drinking all that much—I liked to be in control most of the time.
Brent listened, and it wasn’t until I had the words out that I realized just how much I needed someone who would listen. It got even better, too, since I could quickly see his mind—his keen, deeply intelligent mind—jumping into action.
I should have talked to him before and I quickly realized it.
“It’s easy.” Brent couldn’t have had a bigger smirk on his face if he’d tried. This was all an intellectual challenge to him, and it was one he didn’t seem to find all that difficult. “You just have to figure out how to make everything that’s hers, yours. I think we both know the easiest, quickest way for you to do that.”
I winced, but I wasn’t going to play stupid. I did know. Unfortunately. But there was no way Brent could be serious.
“You want me to marry her? That woman? You know what she did to me, Brent. She got everything.” I grabbed another beer and looked at him. Brent had to be joking. It was the only option.
He didn’t seem to be, though. He was smirking, yes, but still in the way where he clearly thought he’d had the best idea of all time.
“Yeah, she did. So this is how you take it back,” Brent insisted. “You want revenge. Well, what better revenge would there be than to leave her in even worse shape than she started with? You marry her, get a quickie divorce, and you take it all.”
I frowned a little. It seemed Brent was actually somehow serious about this ridiculous plan, but I could also tell he had never been married or even seriously considered it.
“That’s not how it works. If we get married, there’s no way she’d just hand everything over to me.” I popped the top of my beer and thoughtfully downed a good portion of it. Brent was an idiot, of course, but I pulled an image of Kaye’s beauty into my head.
Married.
She would have to give herself to me if we were married. The thought was as sudden as it was unexpected, and I shoved it deliberately away. Sleeping with the woman was not the point of this exercise.
“There are prenups. Just get her to sign one of those. It’s pretty common.” Brent gave me a confident smirk and a wave of his hand as though to say the whole thing was far too easy for him to need to lay it out like he was. Like the little details were beyond him.
“A prenup?” My eyes narrowed and I started to toss that around in my head, which was admittedly pretty foggy with the beer at that point. “That could work. The person who ended the marriage could forfeit all of the money …”
Then I realized what I was saying and I shook my head—which protested rather strongly.
“No, wait. If I put that in, she would never leave. The last thing I want is to be saddled with a wife I can’t get rid of without losing all of my money.” I downed the rest of the beer, welcoming the rush of heat it brought. “No way am I getting into that sort of trap.”
I didn’t want to marry anyone. I had decided years ago that I wouldn’t. I’d seen too much in my life for it to seem to be worth it. Even if my brain ever fell out of my ear and I did choose to get married, I would never pick Kaye.
Something about her stuck in my head in a way that didn’t seem quite safe.
“Okay, no. You’re right, but I’ve got it,” Brent said, and I could see him getting more and more excited, his blue eyes bright with mischief and his cheeks flushed. “The prenup will say whoever is at fault for the breakup of the marriage will get nothing. The injured party, if any, gets it all.”
I shook my head, staring at him. I still wasn’t sure that I got it, and he rolled his eyes at me. Then, thankfully, he continued on.
“Including cheating, David. She cheats, you rake in your money, and the marriage is over. You come out on top.”
Oh my God.
He was right. That would be one situation in which no one could blame me for the marriage breaking down. If she cheated on me, it would all be over and I’d have exactly what I wanted without having to go to court for it, probably. And even if Kaye did hypothetically drag it to court, there would be no chance of her winning.
It would be trading a doubtful outcome for an almost certain one. But there was still one problem left, the way I saw it.
“What would make her cheat?” I asked, and Brent considered that for a moment before his grin widened.
“I would.”
That’s where the plan started, and the pieces fell into place so easily after that. I would marry Kaye, and then I would start to treat her badly right after the wedding. Hurting from my treatment, she would doubtless fall into the arms of anyone who paid her even a hint of attention.
