Chapter 11
Xander
When we arrived at Amari Manor, we found Maya on the stone terrace overlooking the south lawn with a stack of papers, waiting
for Penelope, alone. Penelope went to Maya immediately and they began discussing what I assumed were the terms Sloan probably
drew up already.
I looked out across the rolling green lawn and spotted Henry and Sloan participating in an Amari family tradition while Selena
and Marcus watched fifty feet away.
I raised my hands over my brow and squinted against the sun.
“I’ll get them,” I called to Maya and Penelope as I crossed the lawn, away from Amari Manor and the elaborate breakfast set
up on the stone terrace.
“Pull!” Sloan’s shout pierced through the silence; a metallic clacking followed as a clay disk was ejected, full speed, into
the air.
Sloan and Henry were lined up next to each other. The barrel of Sloan’s shotgun followed the clay disk’s trajectory; she aimed
and shot it dead-on. A few seconds after her bull’s-eye, Henry yelled the same thing, and the same sequence of events repeated
for a few more rounds. Each of them hitting their target as they switched off.
“I thought we went over firearms around Sloan,” I told Marcus plainly as I walked up beside him and Selena. They stood next to each other, watching with controlled trepidation from afar as the Amari siblings competed.
“Sloan can be...” Marcus’s eyes followed Sloan as she geared up to take out another clay disk “...persuasive.”
“Who’s winning?” I asked, skating by the disgusting implication.
“It’s a very tense tie.” Selena took a sip of her mimosa.
“So.” Marcus crossed his arms. Knowing Sloan, he probably had to listen to her go through all the possible iterations of how
all of this could turn out. She was worried, which meant Henry and Marcus were, too. “You’re getting married.”
“If this is when you give me the sex talk, you’re very late. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who gave it to your fiancée.”
If looks could kill, the one Marcus gave me would do it.
“I’m serious,” I goaded, too tempted to see how far I could push his legendary patience. “All Beatrice told Sloan was that
unplanned pregnancy was unbecoming.”
“Xander,” Marcus warned again, this time it sounded exasperated. “You don’t need to pretend every difficult conversation isn’t
difficult by making it a joke.”
But it made dealing with them easier.
“I’m fine,” I assured him firmly. I looked over to see Henry firing the final shot. “Seriously. It’s not a big deal.”
If I said it enough, I was sure to believe it eventually.
Marcus looked over to Sloan then back to me, thinking. Henry joined us and right as he opened his mouth, Selena interrupted.
“Why don’t we head to the terrace,” she said quickly, looking up at Henry with an expectant smile when he walked over and
threw an arm over her shoulders. Henry and Marcus exchanged a look and agreed. “Penelope and Maya are probably waiting.”
The three made their way up the lawn toward Amari Manor. I waited for Sloan since, clearly, everyone thought I needed to talk to someone.
Sloan finished handing her materials back to the groundskeeper and joined me.
“So.” Sloan clapped her hands together, brows raised.
“Penelope needed help. I helped. That’s what we do,” I said quickly before she launched into whatever line of questioning
she had planned. Penelope often kept us at arm’s length, but she was still one of our own and if she needed something, we
were going to get it for her.
Sloan nodded, didn’t say anything, and strolled toward the house.
I followed next to her.
“I’m just surprised.” She slowed down to a stop. “Going from the guy who starts every relationship with the ‘don’t fall for
me’ talk to getting married.”
“It’s not a relationship, it’s an arrangement,” I corrected her.
“Right...” she wondered aloud. “It’s just...”
She turned to me. Her eyes spanned the lawn a few times, undecided. Sloan’s default setting was to push, but when it came
to me, she often held back for fear she’d push too far.
“After Reina, it seemed like you’d never go through with an actual commitment again,” she continued but winced when she realized
she’d just said Reina’s name out loud. “I know you said you’d moved past it, and I’m happy you did. I guess a part of me always
wondered if you were still waiting for her.”
Reina, for so long, felt like the one that should have been.
For a fleeting second, I was tempted to tell Sloan that Reina was back in Manhattan after spending years abroad. The one thing,
the only thing, I’d wanted for so long. Reina chased a dream to be a traveling journalist, leaving me with the choice to follow
her or stay home. I chose home. Surprisingly, after years of regret, I couldn’t make myself care that she’d returned.
“I’m not waiting for her.”
Not anymore. Not for a long time. Not since that night and the following morning with Penelope—and the poppies—before she
left for London.
“I’m glad.” She squeezed my shoulder.
A silent beat passed between us, filled with the rustling sound of the wind moving through the trees at the ends of the property.
“Look...” I let out a heavy breath and tried to think of how I was going to ask this without raising a thousand alarms
in Sloan’s head. My weight shuffled between my feet. “I need a favor.”
Sloan not acting in the best interest of the Hightowers was nice in that it was satisfying to see them get what was coming
to them, but that thrill was short-lived. It had been so long since my parents died, the fury of it faded for me even though
the desire for retribution burned bright for Sloan.
“Okay...” Sloan looked at the terrace to see everyone there along the table, very far out of earshot. Like she knew something
was coming. “What do you need?”
It all came together in my mind in pieces.
The drive to the Hamptons. The terrace. The beach this morning.
I’d looked into Maddox when I’d first met him, but I didn’t do anything with that information because Penelope had told me
to stay out of it. But that was how I knew a merger was brewing. Every tech company would want a piece of SunCorp once Herrera’s
novel extended-battery tech was made public. Especially someone who planned to make extended-life portable gaming systems—that
little piece of information Penelope mentioned in the car. All this time Maddox had power over Penelope, but now, I had a
chance to have some over him.
“Speed up the Hightower case. You probably have the proof that the whistleblower needs to support their claims, right?”
She had to. It was how she knew the Hightowers were guilty. But her job was to protect them.
“Yes,” Sloan answered speculatively.
I had a feeling if I could promise Herrera the seat at the head of the world’s largest energy company and the capital to get
his technology up and running sooner than anyone planned, he’d agree to Dawn Capital acquiring his company.
And that happened to put me directly in the same market that Maddox would need. It gave me a seat at the table and an impossibly
good hand.
All I needed was Sloan to agree to stack the deck.
“And you know how we call in favors with each other—no questions asked?” I reminded her. “I’m calling one in.”
Her lips straightened. Breath stilled. Shoulders lined up. She knew it was serious and now she knew she couldn’t ask me about
it.
Over the years, through endless shenanigans, Sloan and I accrued favors for each other by getting the other out of an unsavory
situation. The game of I-owe-yous was originally lighthearted. But occasionally, when things got heavy and we weren’t able
to talk about them, one of us would call in a favor—named after the location that favor was earned—and the other would grant
it without question.
That’s how she knew it was serious and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. For so many reasons. It was far riskier now—unethical
and probably a little illegal—so I’d understand if she wanted to know more for putting her in a precarious position. But Sloan also knew I wouldn’t
ask if it weren’t important.
“I’m going to put Herrera on that open throne,” I told her, resolutely.
Hightower Energy needed to collapse. Originally, that’s where the plan ended. But now, I’d buy it out and use the open CEO
seat as bait for Herrera to finally sell SunCorp’s assets to Dawn Capital.
Assuming it went according to plan, the world’s largest carbon emitter would become the leader in clean energy. The world would benefit. And, as an added bonus, Dawn Capital would be well set up to profit from it all. Having the patent on extended-life battery technology decades ahead of any viable competition would give us power over anyone who wanted to buy it.
The Chens. The Xus. Anyone that might try to pull the strings in Penelope’s life again.
Sloan’s lips twisted to the side in thought. Her brow crinkled with a thousand withheld questions.
“Since this is headed to the Justice Department, I can have Senator Fitzgerald Alders happen upon the documents that would be the smoking gun to the whistleblower’s accusations.” Fitzgerald Alders, Tristan’s cousin, was
a friend with his eyes on the White House. Being the public face of taking down the Hightowers would make him look like a
hero. “A full-blown Senate inquiry would give me enough plausible cover to advise Hightower Energy’s board to vote him down.
Once they do, you need to be ready to buy them out.” She went on, looking at me with concern etched all over her face, “Does
that work?”
“Yes,” I answered, and we began making our way back to the rest of the group. “Thank you.”
She nodded and went on in a firm, unemotional cadence. “And you’ll need new representation—I’ll get you a good name. The same
firm that represents Hightower cannot help you buy them out.”
“Okay.”
“And you’ll tell me the real reason eventually. Whenever you’re ready,” she added sternly, looking at everyone on the terrace,
then back at me, “because I know this isn’t only to close a deal.”
If Sloan knew how tangled up I was in Penelope, it would mean spending the next year watching her and everyone that cared
about me treat me like I was made of glass. Terrified that the end would break me.
“I will,” I promised.
Once I was past all of this, I’d tell her with the same ease I told her I was over Reina. I just needed some time.
“And be careful, okay? With Pen, I mean. Her family in Singapore is tough. Then there’s her mom, who isn’t the best when it
comes to support.”
“Yeah...” I didn’t know much about Penelope’s family other than she had half siblings. All I knew about them was that they
existed.
“Her half sister, Arabella, doesn’t really talk to her.” Sloan’s shoulders slouched. “I met Silas while Pen and I were in
London and he’s a trip.”
I tried not to linger on how broken I felt when she came back from London and told us about her engagement, so I started seeing
Madison. I knew what I needed: short, amicable relationships with an expiration date. Nothing that would be painful to lose.
I could do with Penelope what I did with every other relationship. Right? Use this time to move past her, try not to get pulled any deeper than I already was. All without having to see her married
to someone else. Win-win.
“I don’t want her to get hurt and keep her distance,” Sloan warned me. “I don’t want to lose her.”
Neither did I.
In fact, I was constantly surprising myself with the lengths I’d go to just to hold on to even a piece of Penelope.
***
We walked back up to the terrace to join everyone already seated around the large circular outdoor dining table.
I took the empty seat next to Penelope and looked over her shoulder to see what she was reading.
Sorry, Ladies, He’s Taken!Billionaire Cofounder of Dawn Capital, Alexander Sutton, Engaged to Manhattan-based Attorney Penelope Chen-Astor.
Penelope tilted her phone screen in my direction, the warm breeze rustling through her silky hair and into my face as I leaned
in to read the headline on her phone.
“Good news is this article is highly complimentary,” Selena began cheerily from next to Henry. “Bad news, now there’s press
interest in you two.”
“And as long as there’s interest, someone will try to find a story.” Henry ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me.”
“At least they called you an attorney.” Sloan looked at the headline above the picture of the two of us. It must have been
taken moments after the gasp that launched a thousand rumors. “They always call me an heiress .”
“Well...” Penelope’s eyes kept running over the headshots of us, side by side. Her shoulders slumped down. Her voice lowered
to a decibel I could hardly hear. “I guess there’s no turning back now. It has to be you.”
I sat down beside her and glanced at the stack of papers in front of me. Sloan already had the contracts written. And she’d
thought of everything.
An agreement, terms, and a divorce date.
Everything.
Not that I needed the reminder that this was strictly an arrangement, but if I did, Penelope’s tone—the one bordering on resigned
disappointment—did a good job.
Henry chuckled and laid a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s just a year. We’ve had him for eighteen and
we’re mostly fine.”
“Henry,” Marcus, who’d sat silently next to Sloan, warned.
“What? He’s been a smart-ass since the day I met him. I’m not pulling any punches.”
I leaned toward Penelope. “Consider yourself lucky. You get to leave me when this is done.” I pointed around the table. “These
suckers can’t.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “And you know it.”
I always found that pissing her off was the fastest way to eventually get a smile out of her. And those smiles were like a
drug.
Focus.
I sat up straighter and reminded myself not to fall in any deeper than I already had. That every protection I’d built for
myself seemed to crumble when she was around. I needed those.
“We can use the press interest to our advantage.” Selena drew our attention back to her. “We play into the whole whirlwind-romance
thing. You fell in love, just had to get married. Then in a year or so, you have an amicable split.”
“Which is an easy sell with Xander,” Sloan pointed out.
“Thanks?” I crossed my arms, unsure if I should be offended.
“It’s simplicity itself,” Selena insisted.
“Sounds perfect, honey.” Henry grinned up at Selena from his seat.
Selena could have just as easily regurgitated incoherent nonsense and I was sure he’d look at her the same way. Pure love
and unwavering devotion.
It was sweet. The kind of sweet that decayed your teeth, but sweet, nonetheless.
“You’re married for a year. Once Penelope’s inheritance is transferred to her, the clause in the divorce agreement goes into
effect,” Sloan explained, handing me a small stack of documents. The signature lines all flagged. “Then you’re divorced with
all the assets you came into this with.”
I swiped my pen along the signature lines, signing both my marriage contract and the divorce papers.
“One last thing,” Maya added. She hesitated for a second. “There is no fidelity agreement written into the contracts. They’re
sealed and the only thing that’s publicly available is the marriage license.”
The table became quiet.
“But...” Selena picked up for her. “It would be a mess if either of you are caught with your pants down... so to speak.”
“Understood,” I said as I looked up and the sudden realization that I just signed up to be fucking celibate for a year hit
me. But if it meant not having to sit by and watch as she married someone else, I’d take that bet.
“Great. The wedding is in two weeks.” Selena didn’t wait for either of us to ask a question. “The whirlwind romance with a
whirlwind beach wedding is perfect. Nobody is going to go looking for plot holes in such an adorable story.”
“A wedding?” Penelope turned the ring around on her finger. “Is all that necessary? Why not sign these, call a judge, and
get it all over with?”
Henry chuckled again but didn’t say anything.
“I just mean...” Penelope moved her hands to her lap and shifted in her seat. “I don’t want to make a fuss.”
“The more real it looks, the fewer questions, the less interest from the press.” Selena walked back to the empty seat next
to Henry. “Everyone at this table, plus CeCe and the Dawn Capital cofounders, know the truth. Everyone else doesn’t.”
After we finished talking about the terms, Selena went to meet CeCe—a friend of ours who practically ran every high-society
party in Manhattan. The two had taken it upon themselves to plan everything. By the time we got back to my beach house late
that afternoon, the date, venue, and most of the other big details were being settled.
In two weeks, I’d be a married man. Fake-married man.
“Look.” Penelope turned to me in the foyer. She was silent for almost the entire afternoon. “I know this isn’t fair to you.”
“Seriously.” I put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down. “It’s not a big deal, this kind of thing happens more than you’d
think. Besides, now you owe me a favor.”
She smiled but it faded almost as quickly as it came.
“Yes, but.” She looked down at her fingers twined between each other. “If you find yourself with someone.”
“With someone?”
“I just mean, it’s fine. Fair. I wouldn’t expect you to...”
A thorny grip constricted around my lungs as I processed that her words went both ways. “You want to have affairs?”
Of course she did. I was the frog. Not the prince.
“I just mean,” she clarified with a sharp undercurrent, “this isn’t real, so I don’t expect fidelity or anything silly like
that.”
“What do you expect?”
“Nothing,” she said firmly but her eyes refused to look at mine. “That’s my point. Outside of what’s on paper, I expect nothing
from you.”
My jaw sat on edge, trying not to react. I couldn’t figure out how she managed to get under my skin so fast. Nobody else could.
But fuck, Penelope made me feel anger, jealousy, real desire, everything I tried to avoid.
“Once is more than enough to be a headline.” I lifted her chin to force her to look at me, trying to get across what I couldn’t
put into words—that I wasn’t about to sit here and have a front row seat to her doing exactly what she so kindly offered to
me. Irritation pricked against my skin. “I know this isn’t real, but there’s risk for me, too. I am not signing on to this,
lying to everyone I know, all for you to blow it because you can’t keep—”
“I have no plans to blow it.” Indignation sparked in her eyes. She pushed my hand away and took a step back. “God you’re infuriating. I’m trying to make this entire mess less of a burden on you .”
It was so clear that Penelope accepting help made her viscerally uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure why; it didn’t seem like pride.
But I never wanted her to feel that way around me. And I didn’t want to ever have this conversation again.
I tried to rein in all of it. Go back to the setting that felt safe, one I could rely on—carefree, unbothered. Diffuse this
entire conversation, the one that was getting way too close to somewhere that I knew would hurt.
So, skirting around it with a joke seemed like the perfect fix.
“How about this. If you want something”—I leaned in and playfully threw my arm around her shoulders, dissolving all the anguish
that the reality of the situation brought up—“All you have to do is ask.”
The teasing suggestion got exactly the response I was expecting.
With a sigh that couldn’t hide the smile or conceal the laugh, Penelope gave me a gentle shove. “Are you ever serious?”
“What makes you think I’m not serious?” I grinned down at her as she stepped out from under my arm.
She rolled her eyes and waved as she walked down the hall, her lithe frame cutting though the evening light as she walked
to her bedroom.
I watched, realizing just how difficult this year was going to be.