8. 2
Greyson
The familiar raspy laugh of Lucas Riviera broke through the conversations of my staff as they rushed about readying the venue for our engagement party the following week. Luke was a detective—one of two people outside of the operation who knew the full scope of what Thunderstrike did. He’d started as an adversary and, within a few months, had grown into a friend as our relationship became one of mutual respect. He was also why city brass would monitor the engagement party alongside my security personnel. As though he’d checked off every box on the list of stereotypes, the man strutted into my building like he owned it, wearing a black leather jacket. His hair was slicked back, and his button-up strained over an extra twenty-five pounds in his belly, which he swore he would lose—thus refusing to update his wardrobe.
I’d been working with the man for three years, and neither had changed.
“Hart! You son of a bitch,” he barked, announcing his presence to my entire staff as they prepared for the evening. The man didn’t have a subtle bone in his body, but he was shrewd and had integrity wreathing every action. I studied his open body language and the slow smile stretching his stubbled cheeks. Sincere enough. Opting to return his greeting, I handed back the seating chart the event planner had been explaining and turned to meet his approach. Yanking me into a one-sided hug and slapping my back, he said, “I had my suspicions, but you are one tough motherfucker to read.”
“We kept it quiet for obvious reasons,” I simply supplied, jerking my head toward the bar, where they’d ensured my favorite bottles were well stocked. “Whiskey?”
“Nah, man. Thank you, though.”
“I insist,” I said, settling a hand on his shoulder. Stockily built, Luke was all of five-foot-eleven but took up space like a brick wall. “Let me get you something.”
“Unless it’s a cola, you’re outta’ luck. Just got the lay of the land from Mike, so my guys are up to speed.”
“Good deal.” I motioned toward the open terrace, overlooking the putting greens and beach below. “How have you been?”
“Better than I deserve. Gotta say, I expected a call before the press caught wind.”
“I intended one, but things…escalated.”
“You knock her up or something?”
“Nothing like that.” It was in that precise moment that Alessandra stepped onto the balcony from a side room like an ethereal dream. At five-foot-ten, she towered over most other women, bustling to get things in order. A curve-hugging white lace dress highlighted sinfully feminine lines; her long sheet of shining chocolate hair was straight today with salon-level perfection. My gold necklace adorned her skin for seven days running, much to my satisfaction. She wore it obediently through public appearances, dinners, private evenings with our publicists, and countless meetings. I’d noticed her study it a time or two, but if she’d noted anything peculiar, she’d yet to say anything.
I just wished she’d emerge from her rooms every now and then. It was like a ghost haunting my halls—food not where I’d left it in the fridge, the occasional pair of shoes by the door, but otherwise, a heavy silence had filled the space once the movers left. She attended our meetings and spent longer hours at the office to which I was dying to return, but she seemed to have decided avoiding me was the answer.
No wife of mine would spend her days hiding in her home. It would have to change, but it didn’t seem like she’d make it easy on me.
Sharp gray eyes surveyed the greens, the decor being meticulously placed, then softened to return smiles as staff recognized the queen in their midst. She held herself like royalty—unbothered by her height and sure in her observations. If she gave a single flying fuck about status, the woman would wear wealth exceptionally well.
That was one thing that caught my attention. Alessandra didn’t speak unless her words held value, kindness, or humor. Didn’t act unless she was certain. It’s why I knew that if anyone could pull this off with me, it was my begrudging right-hand woman. She could hate me all she wanted; it didn’t negate that she was damn good at her job and even better at trusting her blunt intuition. Which, luckily for me, had at least hinted that I was innocent and, somehow, despite her distaste, worth helping. “Sometimes, you just know.”
“She put up with your stubborn ass for the last two years, I guess that’s as good as it gets.” Luke chuckled darkly, but my eyes tracked my soon-to-be partner as she slowly studied the preparations across the ballroom, as if she had taken notes of the details naturally. “Damn, Hart. You got some drool on your chin. Gotta say, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. You’re so obvious.”
His observations didn’t sit well with me but worked in our favor. Jerking my head toward the open double doors, I said, “Come say hi.”
“Not in the habit of taking orders.”
I deadpanned. “Stop your bitching and come say hello under a new pretense.”
“You could’ve used charm school, asshole.”
“Know a lot about that, do you, Rivera?”
“The chief of police has more niceties than you do.”
“Which is why he deals with the public, and I don’t,” I supplied.
He snorted. “Thank god for that. The irony of you in PR will never get old.”
“Don’t get used to it. That will be Alessandra’s role shortly.”
“Now, who the fuck is Alessandra ?” His low chuckle ran nails down an invisible chalkboard. “That some backward pet name thing you have going? You’re the only bastard I’ve heard full name her.”
“Because she’s mine and deserves a title as elegant as she is.”
“Jesus Christ, you’ve got it bad.” His sentiment made me realize exactly how much conviction I’d put into those words despite the way they sounded absurd in my ears. Mine . I’d never had a person that felt like mine. “This whole time?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “But it’s rare for me to underestimate someone, and she’s bested me at every turn. If you’ll excuse me.” With that, I abandoned Luke to make a beeline toward the most intelligent woman in the room, where she’d been cornered by the event planner outside. Her smile was nearly blinding as she laughed, listening to the woman’s concerns. Eyes full of stars, Alessandra glanced at me across the terrace and through the ballroom, a timid smile growing as I approached.
For a moment, as my staff hurried to step out of my way, and vendors carrying teetering platters and décor rushed to do the same, I wondered what it would feel like to have someone look at me that way authentically. For a woman to light up because I was walking toward her. She was convincing, wearing her role well, despite what I assumed was a brutal clash of her morals.
Her need to help and her hatred for dishonesty.
As she’d predicted, her family hadn’t taken the news well. Less so when our official engagement photos released.
The fan favorite was an image of her standing beside the rail of my balcony, with me crowding her against it. We were both laughing. I could still feel her body nestled against mine, feel the slight shake of her hand as she settled it on my chest and looked up at me under too-thick lashes. Could remember exactly how fucked up I felt knowing I was about to derail this young woman’s entire future for my own benefit.
I’d meant what I said. She was wasted as an assistant. Wasted in my company at all, to be frank. At least her new title was more fitting. But it wasn’t enough.
Alessandra Rhodes was the master of a mind destined to bring men to their knees. I’d known it for a while now but wasn’t sure how or when I’d get to use it. Her ability to appease debutantes and executives with an arsenal of personal knowledge was just a parlor trick.
As I watched her laugh, the sun bouncing off her warm complexion, I remembered that some corner of my mind had logged away the fact that her touch didn’t make me want to hide.
Women and I had a turbulent history. Frankly, I'd take the snake every time if I had to choose between sticking my hand in a rattlesnake hole and braving the dating world.
But Alessandra didn’t want my money. Didn’t give a shit about the fact that I bore my father’s last name or was now at the head of an American empire. She’d been honest in her distaste for me as I offered her a world most women would kill to get a foothold in. Her help was contingent on my innocence and my determination to provide for my niece’s legacy.
And I’d been waiting for the opportunity to see if my fascination with her faded. Only, as I finally closed the gap on the terrace, I realized not an ounce of it had dissipated. The woman was immune to status. I just had to pray her steadfast morality would also apply to our cause.
Clearing my throat to announce my presence to the vendors chatting with her, I stepped into their circle, hands tucked into my pockets. “Apologies, ladies, but I need to steal my fiancé for a moment before the crowd arrives.”
Her gaze on mine overshadowed their pleasant laughter, even as both women gushed their understanding with, “Of course, Mr. Hart,” and, “So happy for you, Mr. Hart.”
“Thank you both,” I said, nodding and shifting into her space as her throat bobbed, big gray eyes looking up to mine. My hands wrapped around her biceps, our bodies pulling together as I sensed the scrutiny of so many eyes on the couple of the hour. I hated few things as much as I loathed growing up in the spotlight. Thirty-five years, and that hadn’t changed. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to her, being thrust into it so suddenly. “You alright?”
Tone saccharine-sweet and smile cemented in place; she prattled on at a speed that put auctioneers to shame. “I can’t move my face for fear of wrinkling the layers of cosmetics; there is a small knife disguised as a bobby pin tearing the skin from my scalp where they put this barrette in; your stylist put me in heels as if I needed to be taller , four people have asked me if I’m pregnant which either means they’re socially incompetent or this dress makes me look fat, and my big brother called to tell me not to throw my life away and that men get lost at sea all the time.”
I disguised my laugh by sipping my whiskey and hiding the expression behind my glass. She reminded me of Mattie. “This new blunt side of you has me wondering if the demure woman in the office beside mine ever existed.”
The spark in her eyes and the subtle crinkle beside them said this smile was authentic. “The doormat was an expected pretense.”
“And the ball buster?”
“A survival tactic. You have to know what you’re signing up for. You might have big house energy now, but wait until I’m manic because I chugged pre-workout.”
“Have you always spoken so candidly?”
“No,” she admitted, cocking her head. “Spent most of my life silent. But look at where that got me.”
Engaged to a Hart . That fact was instantly reduced to a sentence instead of a godsend. That should irritate me, but it didn’t. Actually, I was rather amused.
Her belongings had been moved and sorted for her, and her car upgraded to a limo with a driver or her pick of Teslas, luxury SUVs, or sedans. Clothes had been neatly folded, sorted, and put away by a staff that sang her praises because she memorized their names and made eye contact while they talked to her. A private chef occupied her new kitchen five hours a day. And she dismissed it because her reality was arranged rather than stumbled into with some tacky meet cute like the books she read. I knew countless power couples who’d started out as mergers rather than romances. Leave it to Alessandra to make it seem outrageous.
“You move like a god damned greyhound,” Luke noted, finally catching up with frustration carving his strong brow.
“And you shuffle like a bulldog.” I pointed out, earning an honest to god giggle from Alessandra and a glare from Luke as he ran a hand through thinning brown hair. “Alessandra, you remember Detective Rivera?”
“From the Sullivan case. Yes, of course. Nice to see you?—”
“Luke,” he cut in.” Please call me Luke. We’re friends now, Mrs. Hart.” His use of the moniker sent her cheeks flaming, a timid smile on her face as those eyes dropped to her feet. “I’d blush if I was crazy enough to marry this guy, too,” he teased, hooking his thumb over his shoulder toward me.
“You underestimate your friend if you feel that way,” she countered, words taking me by surprise. Perhaps she’d wear this role better than I even anticipated. That or she hated me less than she let on, which would be preferable given the proximity we’d be in until this mess was resolved.
“I’m not in the habit of flirting with men—might give people the wrong impression,” I stated, eyes only for her. I liked the smile my stupid, understated joke earned. Liked the way those blue-grays ignited with amusement. The way some long-buried flame in my chest seemed to wake in response.
“Wouldn’t want to feed the stalkarazzi fodder.”
“Of course not,” I agreed, smiling as she did, knowing full well our entire arrangement was designed to do exactly that. It had been our plan, of course, to leak one morsel of gossip at a time. The ring. Perfect photo announcement. This party. Wedding date speculations. She had each piece timed precisely.
“Ahh, there’s Mike. I’m going to go coordinate,” Luke cut in, pulling our focus as he nodded to us in turn. “Congrats to you both. Really. Thrilled about the news.”
“Say hi to Marie,” I replied, reaching out a hand in thanks.
He shook it quickly. “Will do, Hart. Will do.”
Alessandra looped her arm in mine when he'd gone and angled us toward the venue entrance. “Why do I feel like there’s more than one reason you reintroduced me to Detective Rivera.”
“Because trust is challenging to find within government institutions, and he’s one of the few you could safely turn to.”
“Ahh,” she said simply, as though that made perfect sense.
We stepped through the expansive double doors onto the ballroom floor as a coastal breeze shifted her silky hair. Gently tucking a side behind her ear, I slid my arm out and down to her hand. “Tonight will be a whirlwind,” I noted, squeezing her fingers gently.
“Nothing we’re not used to.”
“Except you’ll be the center of their focus this time.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know,” I agreed, nodding. “Tell me I have a phone call waiting in the office if you need an excuse to leave.”
“You don’t need to look out for me.”
“But I will,” I countered. Abandoning my hold on her fingers, I ran my own up the length of her lace-shrouded arm. “And Alessandra, one more thing.”
“Yes?” she asked softly.
“The dress fits you beautifully. You’re a mirage in ivory. They’re asking because they can’t fathom a woman as kind as you would take pity on a man like me .”
“ Have you no sense of duty? ” My uncle’s snarled demand pulled my attention from the cuff link I was fastening. With guests set to arrive any minute, I was well past the curtain call and needed to make sure I pulled my weight tonight. Alessandra looked radiant, so I needed to attempt to match.
We’d made it through week one of this charade virtually unscathed, save for a lecture from the head of HR, an ungodly amount of paperwork, and out-of-pocket comments from basement-dwelling internet trolls.
Still no whisper of the allegations that pigeonholed us in the first place.
Perhaps ignoring Reggie’s calls all week wasn’t my brightest choice, but the man had just touched down in Paris the day after the board meeting. We should have been free of him for a few weeks yet.
Door slamming behind him, Reggie tore into the room like the devil himself. It took every ounce of my control not to audibly sigh as I flicked my eyes up to his very dignified stomp through the bathroom of “the groom’s suite” in the venue.
He looked like a petulant toddler with raging cholesterol and a high likelihood of an aneurysm based on the pulsing vein in his forehead.
“Evening, Reggie,” I drawled, arching a brow as his face flushed a promising shade of tomato.
“Don’t evening me ,” he growled, snatching my cell from where I’d discarded it on the counter. He swiped up the screen before feigning shock. “Oh, so it does work, and you just didn’t deign to answer.”
“It’s been a busy week.” My even tone somehow elicited another shade of crimson in his face. That’s the thing about maneuvering egotistical pricks regularly: the sooner you can regulate your emotions, the sooner you own every hothead in your proximity. My Uncle included. For fun, I reached for my other cuff link without shifting a muscle in my face.
“I’ll say,” he spluttered. “Such an absolute disgrace. This is not what I meant in that office last week.”
“If you came to my engagement party to protest, I do believe the minister will request objections at the ceremony. For now, I’m a bit preoccupied fastening this.”
“You little shit.”
“Care to help?” Glancing up to him in the mirror and seeing that seething scowl, I arched my brows and added, “ No ?” I shrugged, refocusing on my sleeve while maintaining a careful mask of calm.
Reginald and Carlisle Hart were birds of a feather. Mean when drunk—which was often—and convinced they were god’s gift to business. My father and his brother were likely two of the bastards who coined the term ‘shark.’ How either of them secured the cherubs they called wives, I couldn’t comprehend for the life of me.
My indifference obvious, he opted for a new tactic, leaning onto the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve betrayed everything your father and I worked for. That your grandfather worked for.”
“The company is currently sailing at record profit. Employee retention is at an all-time high. Stock is selling for double what it was before Dad died. If you’re making a point, you’re doing it poorly.” Finishing the second cuff, I straightened my spine, adjusting my collar in the mirror as he sputtered in fury.
“I said Royal wedding. Royal , Greyson. Not rabble. What were you thinking?”
The first drip of cortisol took a swan dive off a very tall cliff into my bloodstream. Keeping my breathing steady, I raised my eyes to glare in his direction. “Lower your voice.”
“We raised you better than this. Ollie demonstrated just how easy it is for some whore to open her legs and destroy your foundation, but you’re just going to run off and do the same thing?”
“Lower. Your. Voice.” Mine had dropped into some kind of growl. Likening Alessandra to Carly was a vile overstep. One had brains, drive, integrity, and class, and one was a bottom feeder with impressive synthetic tits.
“You might’ve gotten too big for your britches the last few years, but don’t you forget how quickly you could throw this all away to get your dick wet.”
Pinning him with a glare, I bit back, “If you can’t control your mouth, I am not beyond having security escort you out. Personally, I think the board has enough on their plates this week, don’t you?”
“ Head of PR ,” he scoffed. “You decide to mock that title before or after you had her on her knees for you?”
Anger has always been the easy solution. The effortless solution. A weak man can mask their anger as strength, using brute force to intimidate their way through life. A weaker man would have grabbed him by his fat throat and put him in his place.
Power is found in control. Strength exists in the chasm between animal instinct and self-discipline.
And so, I breathed.
No matter how much I wanted to silence him.
I would not throat-punch my uncle…even if he deserved it. “I will not have you ruin this for my bride, but before you spew more vile words, do consider that your great niece is likely stashed inside a cubby somewhere, hearing every single thing that you say.”
His lip curled. He loved Mattie, but even that might be a stretch in my attempt to bring him to heel. “Start talking.”
“Not much in the mood for conversation. The ballroom will be full of willing participants shortly, however.”
“Is this a game to you?” he demanded, clearly infuriated by my lack of outburst.
“I don’t waste my time with cheap entertainment.”
“Greyson,” he scolded, shoulders slumping in a sudden wave of exasperation. “A man of your stature cannot just run off and marry his assistant. Suitable alliances are forged for years—and with people of equitable caliber.”
“What do you know of Alessandra’s caliber ?” I asked, sliding my hands into my pockets and turning to face him.
“That she has none,” he hissed. “You’re squandering your one opportunity to elevate our name. To merge with an empire just as advantageous as ours.” He threw an arm back at the bathroom door.
“What is this, 1312? We don’t need to marry for advantage. You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you’re being shortsighted. That girl will never fit in here.”
“ That woman is the first to look at me for me and not our name. She has more than earned my respect, and if you could think logically instead of flying off the cuff when I step outside the lines of your plan for me, I think you’d love her, too. And, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t fit in our circle, either.”
“All the more reason to select a woman who thrives . Let her plan your parties and forge relationships. She— ” he wielded the empty glass in his white-knuckled fist back toward the ballroom, “was raised gutting fish and bonding with bears . She doesn’t belong here. Never has. Never will. Marrying her shows me just how little you think of our previously pristine family lineage.”
“Alessandra possesses more substance in her left pinky than those brainless inflatables parading around in their daddy’s jewels will ever have.”
“Alessandra, much like Carly, is after a favorable prenup, my boy.” This time, his ice clinked in his glass as he pointed it at me. “That’s what all of them are after.”
“She’s different,” I ground out, trying to breathe away the red clouding my vision.
“That’s what they all say,” he scoffed, tossing his free hand up, face spectacularly red.
“Reggie!” I barked, desperate to keep the rapidly dissolving hold I had on my temper. “She is different. All those things you criticize are traits I happen to adore. She grew up humble—which, unfortunately for me, means she’s far more impressed with a work ethic and dedication to family than she’ll ever be by a fat wallet or name in print.”
“I should have known when you kicked me out of your office that she had her claws in you,” he sneered. “You’re both subtle, I’ll give you that.” He shook his head, upper lip curling. “Once she carries your seed, she’ll turn tail and run. These lower-class women are overpriced surrogates, nothing more.”
Lunging into his space, it took all my control not to smash his face in. One hundred easy ways to kill a man and none of them could get me out of here in one piece. Not with the bustling venue just outside the cracked-open door.
I wanted to growl like some kind of beast and shove his head through the nearest wall. Needed to . My hands started shaking as my body geared up for a fight that couldn’t come. Instead, I sneered down at him, relishing in my extra four inches as I used his lapel to yank him closer before straightening it as I gritted out, “ Get. Out .”
“Excuse me?”
“Uncle or not,” I growled, dusting invisible lint from his shoulders before sliding down his jacket and giving it a quick tug. “Chairman or not. You will not come into my venue, insult my bride and my judgment, and then indulge in my food and booze. Get. Out.”
“Mark my words,” he declared, jamming his sausage of a finger into my chest. “You’ll regret this. This is a mistake.” He threw up his hands as he walked away. “I can’t stand by and watch you marry some gold digger filling your head with lies.”
“Then don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t watch, then,” I over-enunciated every word, satisfied as his nostrils flared. He looked a breath away from dropping dead, and not for the first time, some cruel, vindictive part of me wished he would. His absence would certainly make my life easier. “I didn’t have an invitation printed for you anyway.” I shooed him away, teeth still grinding. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a party to attend.”