Chapter Four
Christian
I twist the throttle hard, leaning into the wind, letting all the frustration with my father and his ridiculous rules for me float away with each piece of the passing scenery. I’m not recording content tonight—couldn't with how I feel. Even though I always wear a helmet on my page to keep my face hidden, my followers are so in tune with my body language, they’d be able to tell if I was frustrated. And I make it my job to encourage people, not bring them down with my mood.
“Someone’s blowing off some steam tonight,” Thor says through the mic that’s synced up through all our helmets. “You okay there, boss?”
Chantelle huffs a laugh. “He is hard to keep up with, isn’t he?”
I shake my head and let off the throttle. “I’m fine.”
Holt hums. “Except that fine didn’t sound at all fine.”
I look over to see Caius edging closer, his black helmet twisting toward me. “Need to talk about it, man? All that pent-up energy can’t be good for you.”
“We’re here to ride,” I bark, pulling ahead of him to make my point. “Not talk about my personal problems.”
“We’re here to hang out,” Thor says. “Riding, talking. Sometimes both.”
“Talking is Thor’s favorite pastime,” Des says, almost too low to be heard.
A mixture of chuckles echo through my helmet’s speaker.
“Really?” Chantelle says, sounding surprised. “And here I thought it was flirting with every female who looked at him.”
“Ouch, baby,” Thor croons. “That hurts.”
“Ahem.” Holt’s commanding voice snags my attention. “We’re talking about Christian and his daddy issues.”
I ignore my best friend and lean into the next curve, putting all I’ve got into being one with my bike—the one I specifically chose today for its speed. I lean into the feeling of power, of control that I get every time I’m on a motorcycle. Here, no one can touch me. There’s no one to bark orders or hold things over my head. It’s just me, the piece of machinery between my legs, and the feeling of complete and total freedom that envelops me like a cool embrace.
“Can we make a pit stop?” Thor’s voice cuts through my reverie.
“Aw, does someone need a potty break?” Chantelle giggles.
Cai pipes in. “He just wants to stop for a coffee. What is it Thor, your sixth one of the day?”
“Who cares why I need to stop,” Thor says. “Also, it’s my tenth.”
“We’ll stop at the next gas station,” I say, needing to stretch my legs anyway. But of course I regret the decision to stop as soon as we’re parked. Holt wanders over as I fit the nozzle into the gas tank.
“You know I was kidding about the daddy issues thing, right?” he asks, flipping up his visor so he can look me in the eye. When my only response is to glare at him, he follows with, “What happened? It’s obvious you’re upset. And don’t try to say you’re not. You may be able to hide from the rest of these guys, but you can’t hide from me.”
I brace my hands on my bike and lean forward, dropping my voice to a low murmur. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “What’s going on?”
Lifting my head, I meet his eye, the one not covered with an eye patch. Sometimes it’s hard to look at him, knowing the pain he endured when he was serving his country. I force the visions of him getting hurt on the battlefield away and clear my throat.
“My dad gave me an ultimatum today.”
A deep divot forms between Holt’s brows. “What kind of ultimatum?”
I glance back at Chantelle and Cai, engaged in conversation on the other side of the gas pump. Des and Thor are inside the convenience store. “He showed me a contract,” I start, then laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Apparently, my grandfather drew up an inheritance contract that lists some pretty outlandish terms. Things my dad had to do to be the next CEO and gain control of the company’s assets. My dad agreed to it. And now, before I can step in as the next CEO, I need to as well.”
“What are the terms?” Holt crosses his arms, eyeing me like maybe I’m making up how absurd this whole situation really is.
I shake my head, still reeling from the conversation I had with Dad in his office. “The contract states that I need to get married and produce evidence that I’m willing to have an heir in the next five years.”
Holt whistles. “Wait, like, you need to be married before you sign this thing?”
"The contract says I need to do so before my thirtieth birthday, but Dad also revealed that he’s sick.” The thought that Dad’s dealt with his illness alone thus far rankles me. I could’ve done more to help him, could’ve stepped in where he needed me. Even now, it feels like he’s keeping the whole truth from me. He’s definitely keeping it from Nova.
“How sick?” Holt asks.
“Sick enough to want me to sign it in a month.”
Holt rears back. “A month? How are you supposed to meet and marry a girl in a month ?”
“That’s just it,” I say with a grimace. “He wants me to reconnect with Stefany.”
Holt barks a harsh laugh. “Of course he does. Didn’t he set the two of you up to begin with?” At my nod, he continues. “Dude, Stefany is beautiful and all, but she was never right for you. That much was clear from the get-go.”
Sighing, I think back to when we dated. Her rude, offhand comments to the waitstaff at restaurants, the constantly asking me how beautiful I thought she was, the needy late-night texts that bordered on aggressive...I ignored so many of her red flags. All because I tried to please my father. Little good it did me when nothing I do ever earns his favor. The final straw was when she berated me for rain-checking our usual date night to spend an evening with my mom who I hadn’t seen in weeks. She called me a bad boyfriend, said I’d disrespected her, and wasn’t willing to “invest” in our relationship. Guess she wasn’t totally wrong about the last one.
“So, let me get this straight,” Holt says, “He legit just threw this thing at you and said, ‘hey, give Stefany a call, get married, and tell me you want to have babies before I give you the company and inheritance I’ve been promising since you were in high school’?”
I straighten and scuff the toe of my boot on the ground. “Yeah.”
“Christian. He’s not just giving you an ultimatum, he’s backtracking on the promises he made when you were a kid. Forcing you to either get married to a woman you don’t love or give up your dream is plain wrong.” After a long stretch of silence, he asks, “Did you ask your lawyer about this? Maybe it won’t hold up—”
“It does.” I swallow back the anger that threatens to make me do something stupid like slam my helmet into the cement at my feet so I can watch it burst into tiny pieces. “He gave me little hope on that front. It’s iron-clad.”
“Wait,” Holt says again. “Was he already married to your mom when he signed this contract?”
I shake my head and Holt scoffs. “That’s insane, Chris. Does your mom know that?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Chantelle’s husky voice sounds from behind me, and with a wince, I turn.
“Nothing.”
Her perceptive hazel eyes narrow as she sidles up next to me, hands on her hips. “Does it have to do with why you look so frustrated? I can tell something is off with you, and I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me what it is.”
I sigh. “It’s a long story I’d rather not discuss.”
Her gaze latches on to Holt. “But you were just talking about it with him.” She smirks and crosses her arms. “Which means you felt like discussing it with one of us. If you didn’t want the rest of us to overhear, maybe you should’ve sent it in a text.”
Biting back a curse while Holt chuckles, I look around to see if anyone else is listening.
“Caius went inside with the other guys,” she says, huddling close. “If you don’t want anyone else to hear, you’d better spill it right now.” When I hesitate, she pokes me in the side. “Chris, come on . I caved when you guys ganged up on me, remember? You knew my secret before anyone else.” Her cheeks pinken, but her gaze doesn’t waver. She’s not going to back down, pretty little pit bull that she is.
As quick as I can, I explain the situation to her. “So now I’m stuck in an impossible situation,” I say once I’ve reached the end, hoping maybe she’ll have some insight that can help me decide what to do.
Chantelle stares off into the distance, likely analyzing the story from every possible angle. Her brain works overtime in a fascinating sort of way. Plotting. Assessing. Planning. More often than not, she sees things the rest of us can’t. “Does it say anything in the contract about divorce?”
I cock my head, surprised by her question. “I’m not marrying Stefany to get the company, then divorcing her.” I may not be a saint, but I’m certainly not going to stoop that low.
She holds up her petite hands like tiny stop signs. “That’s not what I’m saying.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she tilts her chin to meet my gaze. “I’m a firm believer in marrying for love. I mean, look at me and Jude; we’re basically obsessed with each other.” Holt chuckles, and I roll my eyes. “And I’m not discounting the sacredness of marriage itself, but...” She shrugs. “I’ve also seen people enter into similar arrangements for practical reasons. Plus, it works every time in romance novels.”
When it’s obvious I don’t find the humor in her last statement, she asks, “Okay, what about marrying a friend ? Someone who’d be willing to do this for you so you could inherit the company? Once you’re married and have signed the contract, your dad’s hands would be tied.”
“You volunteering, short stuff?” Holt asks, amusement lining his voice.
Chantelle giggles. “I did mention the fiancé I’m obsessed with, right? Pretty sure he’d be beside himself with jealousy. Though he is hot when he’s jealous.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. “Anyway, it could work.”
I crack my knuckles, uneasy at her suggestion. “But then I’d be married. To someone I’m not in love with.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Chantelle admits. “But love can grow over time, Chris. In fact, it usually does. And if it doesn’t, you still have amicable divorce as an option.” I give her a hard look and she clarifies, “Not that I’m advocating for that. I’m just trying to help you see your options.”
I grit my teeth. “It’d be based on a lie.”
“Like your dad’s never lied to you,” Holt quips. I can’t see his mouth through his helmet, but I can imagine his frown. “Your dad is manipulating you, Chris. How is that worse than lying? And you’re letting him do it.”
“I am not letting him,” I toss back.
“Right. And then you’ll lose everything you’ve worked so hard for. Everything your grandfather worked hard for.” My chest tightens. Holt knows how special my grandfather was to me, how much he influenced the man I am today. I’ve lived my whole life trying to make him proud, all for it to go down the drain.
“Better than being forced into a loveless marriage,” I murmur. So many thoughts and questions about my parents’ marriage crop up. Dad claimed he was in love with Mom when he proposed, but their issues had to have stemmed from somewhere.
“Unless you choose it for yourself,” Chantelle says. “Find someone who might also benefit from this marriage.”
“Now you’re talking crazy.”
“Am I?” She peers up at me. “If you found someone who could mutually benefit from this, someone you can trust isn’t going to take advantage of you, this could actually work.” Her eyes brighten like they do when she’s about to dive into the plot of one of her books. “Just think about it. All you need is to stay married long enough to sign that contract. Once that’s done, you and whoever does this with you can part ways. Maybe even come up with a contract of your own, so you’re both protected in the arrangement.”
“Chantelle—”
“Look, I know it’s not ideal.” Her eyes plead with me to stop and listen. “And I’d never suggest it in any other circumstance, but maybe…maybe look at this like a business transaction instead of a marriage. She’d be helping you, you’d be helping her…” She shrugs. “Just something to consider.”
A business transaction? Everything in me bristles at the thought. But I’ve never felt so hopeless before, so confused on which route to take. And her suggestion, as wild as it seems, has the wheels turning in my brain. I can’t think of anyone who’d be willing to do that for me, though. Not even Stefany. She always wanted more than I was willing to give.
“It’s still a commitment,” I say. “Even if we sign a contract and look at it like a business deal, there are tons of variables to consider.”
“That’s true. That’s why it needs to be beneficial for her, too. Maybe sweeten the pot with a nice lump sum. Know anyone who’s down on her luck right now?”
Waggling his eyebrows, Holt adds, “Yeah, someone who needs a little sugar daddy.”
I punch him in the shoulder, and he laughs, rubbing the spot. “What? I’m serious. You could do some good with all that money you’ve got lying around.”
“Psst.” Chantelle twists around, then places her finger to her lips. “The others are coming.”
“What are you guys shhhing about,” Thor asks, smiling too wide.
“Oh, nothing,” Chantelle says before winking at me and whispering, “Just think about it.”