Griffin (Ruthless MC 3)

I let out a relieved laugh too. “Oh, so she’s still alive? That’s good news.”

“Well, yes, I suppose….” The humor fades from Whitney’s eyes. “She did leave the country during one of Griffie’s holiday visitations with Geoff and Greg. And she refused to come back—such a terrible, terrible thing to do to your son. I can’t say I was surprised about those rebellious years of his with that motorcycle gang. I’m just glad he’s back in the fold and finally healed enough to get married.”

I stare at her, stunned.

Wow, yes, that was a terrible thing to do. Having lost both my parents to a tragic accident, I can’t imagine losing one just because my mom decided to bounce. As terrible of a position as he’s put me into with this forced marriage business, my heart splinters for Griffin.

And I’m not sure what to do when Geoff corners me just as I’m coming out of the bathroom after—Griffin had called it—the four-course meal is done.

“What are you doing here with my brother?” he demands without so much as a hello.

So that talk is super fraught. But eventually, the sun sets, and it’s time to go home.

Thank goodness.

Pretending to be perfectly okay with marrying Griffin is exhausting work—not to mention the conversations with Whitney and Geoff. I can’t wait to scrub my face and fall into my bed at the hotel.

But the car pulls to another stop in less than three minutes of driving—this time outside a house that looks like a smaller replica of Greg’s villa, just without the two side wings.

“I’ve got one more surprise for you,” he says to O2. “An early gift for your birthday that couldn’t wait until the end of next month.”

O2’s eyes go saucer-wide. “Is the gift in the house?”

He laughs. “The gift is the house.”

“What?” O2 and I shout at the same time—with much different levels of enthusiasm.

I’m hoping I’m misunderstanding again. But I’m not.

Less than an hour after our arrival, I emerge from putting O2 down in a space that looks like a team of fairies got together to make all her fantasy room dreams come true. And I find Griffin waiting for me on a landing that overlooks the same kind of large foyer where Whitney threw Greg’s party.

“She is going to be very disappointed when she sees the stuffed dolphin I’m getting her for her birthday,” I tell him, too tired to pretend this house isn’t seriously impressive.

Griffin just laughs. “I’m glad she likes it. Today went good.”

“Yeah, it did,” I agree. Maybe too good.

A soft sense of camaraderie flutters through me, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from all the questions I have about his ultramodern family. And the still-living mom in France.

We’re not friends, I remind myself, after remembering what Geoff told me. He’s using me, and I’m protecting O2. That’s all.

“What were you talking to my brother about after dinner?” Griffin demands, as if reading my mind.

I decide to answer with the truth: “He wanted to make sure that I knew you were only marrying me because his father made getting married and having a baby a condition of him passing down the CEO seat for AudioNation.”

Griffin stills, but his expression stays neutral. No remorse, no apology. What else did I expect?

“How did you respond?” he asks.

“I was surprised, so I didn’t say anything,” I answer. “I think he took that as an answer, though. He said he was mad that you took it this far. That you shouldn’t have dragged O2 and me into your father’s business games.”

Griffin smirks. “Look at Geoff, pretending he’s not a Latham and just as ruthless as the rest of us.”

I don’t answer. I also don’t admit I was kind of relieved when Geoff told me the real reason Griffin insisted we get married. I will never forgive him for dragging O2 into his scheme. But the Greg Latham ultimatum explains why Griffin blackmailed me into this situation instead of making me fight him in court.

He wants to prove himself to his father, just like he wanted to prove himself to the Reapers when he made that sex bet over me. Yet another thing I got to feel stupid about after that New Year's Eve.

I’d gone back to the roadhouse the next day and tried to work a shift. But Allie wasn’t there, and the other servers took mean-girl joy in recounting how they’d all conspired to help Griffin get in my shorts. They teased me so badly, I ended up quitting halfway through my shift.

“How much did Geoff offer you not to marry me?” Griffin asks, pulling me from that memory.

I don’t bother to ask how he knew Geoff had made an offer. Clearly, the Lathams grew up with the same rule book. I just answer, “A lot.”