Page 9 of Pretty Rings and Broken Things

It’s absolutely intoxicating. I get so lost in trying to identify what it is that I miss whatever he says.

His lips pull into the slightest of smiles. It isn’t much, but it seems like a lot coming from him. I’ve heard the stories about Archer Moore, one of the most powerful men in Manhattan. All of the women talk about him at every event. He’s one of the most coveted men, and somehow, I’ve found myself with no choice but to marry him.

“Winnie?” Archer pushes. He reaches out like he’s going to touch me but pulls his hand back at the last minute.

“Yes?”

“Are you listening? I’m not a fan of repeating myself. You’ll learn that.”

I nod, trying to push the thoughts of what I’m going to tell my best friends. They bothknow me too well. I’m a terrible liar. And now I’m going to have to make them believe I’ve fallen in love and married a man behind their backs.

“Have we come to an agreement? We’ll discuss the state of our marriage after the holidays next year.”

I think through his words. It’s a little over a year since it’s only October, but his reasoning makes sense. “Fine,” I answer with a bite to my tone. I still haven’t fully processed that this is happening. Last night, I’d gone to bed thinking I’d fallen for a man. This morning, I found out that same man betrayed me, and now I’m forced to marry another.

“No arguments?” One of his dark eyebrows lifts like he was expecting more from me.

All I do is shake my head. I’m trying to pretend that I have some negotiating power in all of this, but I know I don’t. This is all my fault, and I can’t let the video get released. I can’t let my father down more than I already have.

My brother will be the one who takes over the business when my father decides to step down, but I’m still as much a part of the family image as them. Anything that looks bad on me looks bad on everyone, and I don’t want that to happen.

Tyson has worked hard to take things over from Dad, and I don’t want to ruin it for him. And I don’t want to disappoint my father more than I already have.

Archer’s posture is rigid as his eyes roam my face. “I don’t know if your silence should be answer enough or if I should be worried about whatever argument is brewing in your head.”

His comment makes me smile. I wasn’t expecting him to have so much personality. But then again, I don’t know him at all. He only attends parties every now and then. And even when he does, he is a mystery to all. I expected him to be dry and boring. Maybe he is most of the time, but he at least has more personality than I first imagined.

I guess people could probably say the same thing about me, too.

“What I’d give to read your mind,” he mutters.

My eyes find his immediately, finding his face pinned into a mask of indifference. The way he said it so quickly and quietly…I’m wondering if I was supposed to hear it at all.

“One year. We’ll talk divorce after the holidays,” I confirm, hating this is the position I’ve put myself in.

“No. We’ll discuss our marriage after the holidays. Some people stay in arranged marriages their entire life, Winnie, so be grateful we’ll have the discussion at all.” His nostrils flare as he continues to look me up and down, making my skin heat under his intense stare. “One more thing. You’ll move in with me…immediately,” he insists.

I take in a sharp breath. “That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

“Yes, it was. Ask your father. You’ll need protection after this. I’m going to further handle Blake, but you have no other option but to move into my house with me.”

My nose scrunches. “I’m perfectly fine in my apartment.”

His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he lets out a long breath. “Why did I think you’d do as you’re told?”

I bite my lip. My father’s probably asking himself the same thing. Joke’s on me. The one time I don’t do as I’m told, everything blows up in my face. “I don’t even know you, Archer. I can’t just move in with you.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll be husband and wife. It’s silly for you to think you’d live anywherebutwith me. To play the part, we’ll have to live together.”

He has a solid point, but I still hate it. I like having my own space. I don’t want to give it up to move in with someone I hardly know.

“What if I don’t like your apartment?” I ask. The question is childish, but I’m lashing out because all of my control has been ripped away from me.

My apartment in New York is the one thing I still have. I picked it out myself when I moved back from LA. I’ve made it my home. But it also houses so many memories with Blake. OnesI’m not sure I want to relive. I’d much prefer to forget the man ever existed.

“You don’t have to like my apartment. Because you won’t be there.”

“Didn’t youjustsay we have to live together?”

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