Chapter Twenty-One
Marcus
The fear in Wren’s eyes cuts deep into me, and I feel a surge of helplessness. What I need is time—time to prove I’m serious, time to give her evidence to support my declaration that I’ll stay by her side and won’t leave. But if she won’t give me that opportunity, what can I do?
“There are no absolute guarantees in relationships,” I say. I hold up my hand and show her my wedding ring. “This is the closest you’re going to get. I married you, Wren. I made the biggest commitment I could. What more do you need?”
“If we’d been dating,” she says, “for a year or two, and then you’d asked me to marry you, it would have meant something. But we hadn’t even been on one date when we married! We hadn’t slept together. It was purely an arrangement.”
“One that you wanted,” I remind her.
“I know… I’m not accusing you of anything.” Her voice remains soft. “I’m just saying that these—” and she holds up her own hand to let her ring glint in the light “—are just pieces of metal. Our vows were just words. They don’t mean anything.”
Her words sting, and I stiffen. “They did to me.”
She blinks. Clearly, she didn’t expect that response. “You told me you needed a wife and heir. It was a business transaction.”
I hesitate. She’s partly right, of course, and I can’t accuse her of misreading me when I actually said those words.
“We might not have said our vows in church, but they had no less meaning for me. I told you at the beginning that I wanted a real marriage. And a real family. That hasn’t changed.
I—” I stop as my phone buzzes in my pocket. Dammit!
Wren shifts off me onto the sofa, and I struggle to get the phone out, then answer it. It’s Dad.
I’m tempted to cancel it, but he’s done his utmost not to call me this week, and ever since Mum was sick, I’ve always made sure to answer when he rings.
“Hello?” My tone is clipped and curt. I need to finish this conversation with Wren before I lose everything.
“I’m guessing you haven’t checked your emails lately?” Dad asks.
“No. Why?”
“A story’s broken on Kōrero.”
“What? What is it?”
“Just take a look.”
I put him on speaker, then bring up the news website on my phone. Wren moves closer to see what’s going on.
I don’t have to scroll far. There’s a photo of me and Wren on our wedding day. And the headline, ‘Billionaire in fake marriage deal.’
Nausea rising inside me, I skim through the article. Whoever has leaked the information has revealed everything. Dad’s imminent retirement. Tom Rutherford’s offer of acquisition. Dad’s statement to his children that if they don’t get married and produce an heir, he’s going to sell.
But, worse than that, they’ve also found out that Wren asked Caesar to donate first, and revealed my counteroffer of marriage.
It’s all done in language that makes it sound cold, calculating, and somehow sleazy.
I inhale as a wave of anger sweeps over me. “Fuck.”
“Is it true?” Dad snaps. “About Wren asking Caesar first?”
I glance at Wren. She’s gone completely white.
There’s no point in lying. “Yes.”
“Jesus.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” I insist.
But he says, “It changes everything. The board has called an emergency meeting. Caesar is on his way down to pick you up in the chopper—he should be there in about ten minutes.”
Fury billows through me. “I’m not cutting my honeymoon short because of ridiculous gossip that some hack has thrown up online.”
“You’ve just told me it’s based in fact, and the board wants answers. Attendance is not optional, Marcus. I expect to see you in an hour.” He ends the call.
“Fuck it.” I yell the words, get up, and throw my phone. It lands on the carpet and skitters away, under the drinks cabinet. I glare at it, tempted to help myself to a brandy, but I need to keep a clear head.
“Marcus,” Wren says from behind. “It’s okay.”
I turn, hands on hips, my chest heaving. “How could it possibly be okay?”
“I mean it can be sorted,” she says calmly.
“You just need to be open and honest. Your father gave you an ultimatum. He was threatening to sell the family company. It means everything to you. Of course you wouldn’t want to lose it.
So you did the only thing you could do—you asked a friend to marry you.
I wanted a baby. You needed an heir. It was an arrangement we were both happy with.
But if they want you to end it, I understand. ”
I feel as if someone has plunged their hand into my chest and is crushing my heart.
She has no idea the impact that bad publicity can have.
A company’s success relies on its investors’ trust. Lose that, and the shares begin to fall.
Then come the questions, the speculation, the nervous calls from shareholders.
Deals stall, and lenders hesitate. Everyone waits to see whether you’re about to sink, and that hesitation alone can drag you under.
In business, perception is everything. Doubt, when it sets in, spreads faster than the truth.
But what hurts more than anything is the fact that Wren will throw away what we have so easily. In fact, I’m sure she’s relieved at the thought of it all coming to a head. She never believed I wanted her.
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “I can explain why I said yes and back up your story.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I go over to the drinks cabinet and pick up my phone. “I need to get changed,” I say curtly, and I stride out of the room and down to the bedroom.
After stripping off my casual clothes, I rifle in the wardrobe, conscious of Wren appearing by the door. Although I didn’t bring any suits with me, I keep a few at the farmhouse, just in case.
I pull on a white shirt and do up the buttons, then choose my smartest navy suit and begin to put on the trousers.
“Like armor,” she murmurs with a small smile.
I’m not in the mood for jokes. I turn the collar of the shirt up, choose a tie, and put it on, doing a smart Windsor knot. Then I tug on the jacket. I stare at my reflection. She’s right—it is like armor. I already feel more able to go into battle.
I sit on the bed to put on my Oxford shoes. “Can I ask you one thing?” I say.
She nods.
Getting up, I pick up my watch and walk over to her as I put it on. “Will you stay until I come back?”
She looks up into my eyes. I don’t know whether she’d thought of leaving or not, but she gives a little nod. “I promise.”
Relief lifts my heart. “I’ll be back later.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I’ll be back tonight,” I state firmly. “I’m going to give Ruth your number. She’ll adopt you if I leave you unattended too long. And Jacob’s. He’ll make sure you don’t sneak off back to Auckland without telling anyone.”
“I’m not leaving,” she insists.
I hesitate. In the distance, I can hear the helicopter heading for the landing area.
“I’m so sorry about this,” I say. It’s excruciating and unfair for her to have her private life splashed on the internet.
“You’re my wife,” I add, cupping her cheek with a hand. “And nothing is going to change that.”
She doesn’t reply. She just looks into my eyes and doesn’t fight me when I give her a long kiss.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say eventually when I lift my head.
She walks with me to the front door. “I’m so sorry about this.”
I stop on the doorstep and turn to face her. Part of me is terrified she’s not going to be here when I get back, but I can’t force her to stay unless I handcuff her to the bed.
Briefly, I consider it. Then I mutter under my breath and head off down the drive.
The helicopter is waiting on the large gravel area behind the barn. I jog across to it, conscious of the stiff breeze from the rotor blades tugging at my hair and clothes, and climb into the passenger seat.
Caesar holds up a hand to say hi. I close the door and nod, then put on my seat belt and headphones, and adjust the mic.
“Hey,” he says, his voice coming through the headphones. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s all right.”
“All set to go?”
“Yeah, let’s get it done.”
He does his checks and then the helicopter rises into the air. Soon we’re heading north into the late-afternoon sun.
“How’s Dad?” I ask.
“Furious.”
“At us?”
He shrugs. “At the whole situation. He knows he played a part in it. If he’s going to throw an ultimatum like that at us, what did he expect?
It wasn’t as if we were all determined not to settle down.
None of us had met anyone we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with, that’s all. We would have done, given time.”
I look out of the window, at the rolling hills beneath us, and the thick green ribbon of the Waikato River.
I fell in love with a girl when I was eighteen and then lost her for ten years. Am I to be blamed for seizing an opportunity to make her mine with both hands when it finally arose?
“I’m sorry, bro,” Caesar says, “I know you really have feelings for Wren. This whole situation sucks.”
“What do you think the board is going to say?”
“I don’t know. Demand that we sell to Tom Rutherford right away, maybe? If his offer still stands. He might withdraw after all the negative press.”
He’s right. I’d be thrilled if that was the case, but the board won’t see it as a good thing.
Then it hits me. “Who broke the news?”
“No idea.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“No. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
My hands curl into fists with frustration. “This is the last thing I needed.”
He glances at me. “Everything okay with Wren?”
I grit my teeth at the thought of admitting to him that I’m having trouble.
“What’s up?” he persists.
“Nothing.”
“Bro,” he says. “You know you can talk to me, right? I know we’ve had our moments, and we can be competitive.
But I’m your brother, and I’m Wren’s friend.
I know what you feel for her is real. I’ll always support you.
And we’re going to run this company side by side. We need to fight this together.”