He’s right; I need more alcohol if we are going to discuss marriage. It’s probably buried in that stupid contract somewhere. Or he’s going to pull his gun and force me to marry him—although he’s never forced me before.
I down my drink. “You must be joking.”
“I’m not. We don’t have to get married legally. Just go through the motions.”
“Why? What would that solve? Are you saying you don’t want to go through with the competition? That we will just share the name and power together?”
“No.”
“Oh.” That would have been nice, ruling with Enzo—working together. It would have led to endless fights, but the sexual tension would only increase until…
No, don’t go there! It’s not right.
I turn back to Enzo, his head is cocked, and I can see the vein throbbing on his neck.
Dammit, why do I want him so much?
“We would take pictures of our elopement and pretend to be married. You would go by the name of Black, same as me here. I would say I gave you fifty percent ownership of the company. That way the men would accept your power. And I wouldn’t have to explain that I gave up the name of Black and look weak. The company would continue to thrive until we determined the true Black.”
“Married,” I say the word slowly, trying to absorb it.
“Pretend we are married—that’s it.”
I sigh. Be married without any of the perks?
Except for the power—the money.
Why do they feel like nothing when I wouldn’t have Enzo?
Why do I want Enzo?
Fuck.
“And you could do that? Pretend to love me?”
“Easily.”
He raises an eyebrow as if asking if I could pretend to love him. Do lust filled eyes count? Because I’m afraid that’s what I look like right now.
“Wouldn’t that make the men think you were a pussy for letting a woman like me have that much power?”
“No, not after they see how strong you are.”
Jesus. Why does he have to keep complimenting me? It makes me forget all the shit he did before.
I nod.
“And we won’t be legally married?”
“No, no one will ask. And if they do, I’ll say we got married overseas and be able to provide a marriage license that appears real enough. Actually getting married would fuck up the contract between the families, and I don’t want that.”
“What about Langston and Zeke and—”
“Those close to us will know the truth. But they won’t share it with anyone here. Langston, Zeke, Archard, and Westcott will play along because it preserves the empire. We will tell no one else about the contract and fight between us for control of Black.”
“What about when the game is over? What then?” I ask.
“Then we get fake divorced and whoever the winner is, stays as Black.”