Stay Toxic

Chapter 30

Ididn’t hear him right. There’s no way he just said what I thought he said.

“Loretta had to go; she wasn’t going to give up her control of you. But you’re not inheriting for another three years, and there are always people who will want to use you. The terms of your trust are that you get the money when you’re twenty-five or when you marry, right? So, marry me. Cut out the trustee, the middleman, the potentially bloodthirsty spouse. Get your hands on what’s yours now.”

“So you can chuck me out of your yacht during our honeymoon and sail off into the sunset, rather than Robert and Chrissy doing it?”

I regret my words as soon as I say them, but marrying me has always been a means to an end for everyone else. Why not him? Honestly, it would make sense.

It”s funny; Tanya and I were discussing the possibility of marrying him to get my inheritance just a few days ago, but…I am worth a lot of money. He wouldn’t be the first to try to trick me into letting him get his hands on it. The bottom line is: I can’t logically trust him.

Maybe he’s been playing me the whole time, killed Mother to get her out of the way and?—

“Hold that very logical objection.” He grabs a stack of papers on top of his piano and hands them to me.

Frowning, I scan through it, the crease between my eyebrows deepening as I read on.

“You’re pretty good with legal paperwork, right, Ms. Future Lawyer? What do you think of this?” he asks when I get to the last page.

My jaw’s tight. This is the coldest contract I’ve ever seen. If I saw it, I’d assume there was zero love between the parties: a geriatric tycoon marrying a twenty-something gold digger, perhaps. It’s ironclad, impossible to contest. Every party enters the marriage with their own possessions and leaves it with nothing else. All finances are to remain separate. And in case of the death of either party, their possessions go to a named heir rather than the spouse by default.

“I’m not hurt you questioned my intentions, just so you know. You would have been stupid not to. This is nothing other than armor for you, that’s all. It’s about time people stop fighting over what’s yours, and I want you to have the power to take it. We do this, and we never have to worry about the Roberts of the world. Or people like your mother.”

I swallow the thick ball in my throat.

“I have more protection to offer you. My family, the Goltzes? They’re linked to some…less than savory people, let’s say. Those who helped me take care of your mother. No one with a brain cell would dare approach you if you’re under their protection. Which you would be, married to me. You’ll have your own bodyguards on top of that.”

I bite my lower lip, finding my feelings drawn in two opposite directions: fear and hope. Fear that this is just another scheme to get to what belongs to me, and hope that for the first time, someone might just want to help me.

He killed my fucking mother because she tried to kidnap me. He’s on my side.

It’s crazy. I’ve known him for a couple of months. But he killed my mother. We’re both way past crazy.

“No,” I say, shaking my head as I put the papers down and stand.

“You don’t have to decide today, but the offer’s there. And I’ll sign that contract, so you know exactly why I’m marrying you.”

“I said no. You’re not signing that contract.”

Blue eyes meet mine, holding me in.

“If we’re to be a team, it’s not going to start with an imbalance like that. We can do a prenup—a normal one, to define what happens if we ever feel differently. It’s smart. We’re young and who knows what life will throw at us? But I’m not an eighty-year-old marrying a porn star, so that contract’s unnecessary.”

“Wait, are you saying no to the contract, and yes to my proposal?”

“I’m saying no to the contract. If you want me to say yes to anything else, there better be a ring, and you should be on your?—”

Knee. I’m about to say knee. But I can’t because he’s kissing me, and bringing my leg over his hips, and moments later, all I can do is scream.

* * *

Sebastian

“You’re an idiot.”

I wince as my best friend swats my head with the back of her book. I can’t blame her.

“Big time,” Tanya agrees. “You had the time to get Marius to draw you that bullshit prenup, but you didn’t have time to shop for a ring?”

“If I didn’t have that prenup ready, she never would have agreed,” I point out.

I’m sincerely flattered she doesn’t want to sign it—and I wouldn’t have minded if she did; I honestly don’t give a shit about her money—but her initial reaction was doubt, before I offered it. I was right to get it done.

“She still hasn’t agreed. Because you didn’t have a ring.” Tanya rolls her eyes. “Moron. Oh, shiny.”

We’re at the fifth jewelry store we’ve visited so far today, and we’ve been shopping for over three weeks. I looked by myself first, but I couldn’t find anything suitable, so I enlisted help. I don’t know Hestia’s taste as well as Tanya does, and Ari would have never let me forget it if I’d gone shopping with Hestia’s best friend without her, so I have two of the most beautiful girls in town on my arm.

Tanya, it turns out, likes everything pink. I make a mental note of that, as she’s likely to feature in our upcoming Christmases. Plus, some guy might eventually ask me for advice about my wife’s best friend.

My wife.

Well, future wife. After she agrees. Semantics.

“Hey, how about this one?” Ari calls.

Tanya and I both converge toward her, and I smile.

“I think we have a winner.”