Chapter Seven #2
“What exactly do you envisage for a marriage?” she asked, her expression violent in a way he nearly found amusing.
He’d seen her look at him like that across boardroom tables many times.
This was different.
“I don’t know that I envisage anything for marriage. It can be nothing more than printed paper, and it does not need to last the duration of the child’s youth. But it is important to me that we are married when the child is born.”
“I see. And as far as our relationship goes?”
He felt like there was an ice block in his chest. But that was nothing new.
“There is no need for us to engage in one. I should like you to move in with me. I believe that you should be kept close.”
He didn’t question himself. It was logical. Easy. Anyway, she had wanted him to be involved in this process. So he was considering himself involved.
“I see. And what you want, that’s going to be the definitive answer here?”
“I have the most power of the two of us, Miss Jones. That means that I will be the one to get my way.”
“You have power in the traditional sense.”
“Yes. And the traditional sense is the only one that really matters.”
“That isn’t true. Normal people can use social media now and gain sympathy and—”
“If only you could eat sympathy. If only you could buy a house with it. But you cannot. How can you paint someone as the villain when they already did? Those kinds of campaigns only work if your opponent cares what the public thinks, and I have made a study of not caring. Better, I don’t have to study it. I simply don’t care.”
“How?” she asked. It was an odd question and not what he had expected. Why did she care?
“It’s easy. Someone’s opinion of me has never been the determining factor in my survival.
I have only ever been able to count on myself.
Once you start caring about the opinions of others, you involve other people, and whether or not you might live or die.
And I refuse to leave that fate to anyone else. ”
They were silent for a moment.
“What are you talking about? You are continually mentioning gladiators, battles, and life and death.”
“Where do you think I came from, agape ?”
The Greek slipped out. Unbidden. He didn’t use his native tongue often. He had no remaining accent.
“I suppose I haven’t given it a thought. When one is about to be eaten by a tiger, one does not wonder where the tiger was born.”
He surprised himself by laughing. Because she was genuinely amusing. It reminded him of the texts she used to send.
Texts he no longer received and would not again.
That was fine. He didn’t need them. If not for this he would never have contacted her again.
He had the sudden realization that wasn’t true, because even if he’d never discovered it, she would have been Sylvie Jones. He would have seen her, interacted with her at the company. And what would have happened?
He had been battling some sort of attraction to her for years, separate to the texts. Would they have succumbed to their attraction even not knowing?
The idea was an intoxicating one.
And yet, he rejected it. The idea that he and Sylvie were anything like fated was a ridiculous one. He didn’t believe in fate.
He believed in fighting until you had no breath left in you. That was when you got what you were owed. And only then.
“I suppose not,” he said. “I wasn’t born with money.
I wasn’t born with a family legacy to inherit.
I have fought for my survival.” He felt a strange hollowness at the center of his chest. He looked behind her, his gaze meeting the back wall.
“Do you know, I read somewhere that human beings can die from loneliness. I thought that was fascinating. And it reinforced the decisions that I made as a youth. If you cut out the part of yourself that craves connection, you would be amazed at what you can accomplish. No matter the circumstances. It is a strength. A survival skill.”
He looked back at her, and he saw concern on her face. He didn’t like it. It made him feel something warm that seemed to surpass that block of ice. He didn’t want to feel that.
“What do you mean…fighting for your survival?”
“You are always fighting for your survival. If you think you aren’t, then you are putting yourself in danger.” He shifted topics. “I will call my lawyer and make sure that the documents are not processed. That means the sale will never go through. Everything will be as it was.”
Any interest or curiosity he’d seen on her face the moment before vanished, replaced by anger. “You know you’re a bastard for holding this over my head.”
“Perhaps. But are you not somewhat mercenary for being swayed?”
“No. It’s a terrible time for me to have to figure out something new to do with my life. Maintaining the company maintains a legacy for my child.”
“Your child has a father who’s a billionaire.”
She looked down at her hands then back up at him. “Yes. I suppose. But we’ll see how long your interest lasts. And whether or not you decide—”
Fury made him interject. “I will never abandon my child. I will never leave them to fend for themselves. Never.”
It was rare for him to show emotion. Or maybe it was just rare for him to feel it. But the way she looked at him, with a deep measure of skepticism, irked him. “Never,” he said again.
“I don’t trust you,” she said. “And why should I? Why should I trust you at all?”
“I’ve done nothing to earn your trust. I have done nothing to earn anyone’s trust,” he said.
“And I won’t start now. I also don’t give my word.
Not lightly. And really, not ever. Because I do not make promises to people.
But I will promise you this. My child would be cared for.
Always. They will never worry about a thing. Ever.”
“And what about me?”
He looked at her, and he chose to focus on the coldness in the center of his chest. “What about you?”
“I need assurance that I’m going to be taken care of. That you won’t take our child away.”
“I would not,” he said. “Because I believe…more than one parent must be involved.”
“We will sign an agreement.”
“Obviously there will be a detailed prenuptial agreement.”
She stared at him, and the nod she gave was almost imperceptible, but it was there. “Excellent. I will call my lawyer and have the paperwork for the acquisition stopped.”