Husband (Betrothed 2)

“I’m lucky you’re smitten with my daughter’s looks. It’d be impossible to get anyone to marry her without her beauty.”

I wanted her for more than just her appearance. “That’s not the only reason I want her. Your daughter is smart, strong, and loyal. She’s just a little rough around the edges. I am too…and I think that’s why we go together so well.”

A week had passed, and Helena prepared the house for my new guests. Maria would get a guest bedroom on the second floor, private quarters that were luxurious and spacious. Sofia would be sharing my bedroom, so I made space in my closet and my bathroom. Knowing her, she would probably try to get her own bedroom.

Not gonna happen.

Damien walked inside and glanced at the pile of my clothes I was donating. “You’re just going to throw these out?”

“I have too many suits.”

“Yeah, but these are, like, thousands of dollars each.”

I shrugged. “It’ll do someone else some good.” I took a seat at the table. “I know Sofia has a lot of clothes, so I need to make room for her.”

He sank into the chair across from me. “Haven’t changed your mind, then?”

I shook my head.

“And I can’t talk you out of it?”

I shook my head again. “Even if I agreed with everything you said, if she marries someone else, they’ll treat her like shit. And I can’t allow that to happen. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing some asshole is talking to her like a dog.”

Damien still looked disappointed. “Alright…then I’ll let it go.”

“Good. Because I want you to be my best man.”

He smiled. “I figured. You didn’t need to ask.”

I didn’t have family. I didn’t have any friends either. Damien was all I had.

“When’s the show?”

“Saturday.”

“As in, a week from today? Is she pregnant or something?”

I wish. “No. Her mother is impatient.”

“And how does Sofia feel about it?”

“She’s pissed. But she’s always pissed, so I don’t notice anything new.”

He chuckled. “We’ve been through some crazy shit together. Survived against the odds. But the most detrimental thing that ever happened to you was falling in love with the wrong woman. I hope the same thing doesn’t happen to me…”

“She’s not the wrong woman. She’s exactly the person I was supposed to fall in love with…that’s why the universe sent her to me. She’s the one woman I can’t resist, so she’s the best person to torture me. God knows how to punish sinners.”

“You really think God is doing this to you?”

“After all the shit I’ve done? Yes.”

Damien stared at me for a while. “You’re not the evilest man in the world.”

If only he knew. “I’ve done a lot of shit you don’t know about. And if you knew…you would know I deserved this.”

When I stepped into the hallway, she was in front of me. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and she wore snug black jeans that showed the perfect heart shape of her ass.

In just a few days, that ass would be mine.

She wore a skintight black blouse with pumps, and she looked through papers as she walked back to her office.

I took my time walking down the hallway—enjoying the view.

I stepped into her office and saw her sit behind her desk, her chin tilted down as she read. She hadn’t noticed me yet, so her face was tight in a focused expression. No matter what mood she was in, she was beautiful, but she looked particularly erotic right now. With red lipstick on her mouth and gold earrings in her lobes, she looked like a model rather than a manager.

And her engagement ring was the sexiest thing of all.

It was a leash made out of diamonds.

I cleared my throat as I entered the room.

She looked up, and instantly, her guard was up. She was uneasy around me, still the recipient of my resentment. Her timid nature was synonymous with guilt. She knew her rejection of me had been wrong, that she was responsible for our untimely demise. She said she’d never wanted it, but I believed that was a lie. She just couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone.

I was the one person in the world she could actually trust.

I sat in the chair facing her desk. “I’ll notify the board of our nuptials this afternoon.”

“Why? They don’t give a damn.”

“Yes, they do. You won’t have any problems with them from here on out.”

“You’re just going to snap your fingers and make them respect me?” she asked incredulously.

“No. I don’t need to snap my fingers.”

She was probably impressed, but she chose not to show it. She sighed like my statement was ridiculous rather than a spot-on prediction of the future. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“We’re getting married in five days. We still have things to talk about.”

“Like?”

“Money.”

“I have my own money, and you have yours,” she said. “I don’t want your assets.”