Chapter 6
Damian
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Duncan yelled at me.
"Keep it down," my mother admonished. "We'll sort this out. I've asked Marisol in legal to put together a post-nuptial agreement. We'll get Emilia to sign it. How much money do you think she'll want?"
My family hated Emilia as soon as they found out that we were married. They didn't know her, but they hated her. Gideon had told dad that Emilia was a dumb gold digger. Maeve had told mom that she'd given Emilia a job as a favor because she was a…yeah, a dumb gold digger who had delusions of grandeur when it came to her art. Bianca told Duncan that Emilia was always jealous of her and had stolen her man; and had done this in the past as well.
I'd believe them as well if I hadn't spent the time I had with Emilia, which was miniscule compared to the time her family spent with her—and yet, I didn't see my new bride as dumb or a gold digger. I found her unerringly honest and na?ve.
"She doesn't want any money," I stated.
"Bullshit," my father bellowed. "Seriously, Damian, you need to stop thinking with your fucking dick."
I should tell them, I thought then, about Bianca cheating on me, about how Emilia was not the seducer but the seduced. But I didn't. Cowardly? Probably. But I also didn't think they'd believe anything positive about Emilia at this point. Also, I was ashamed that my woman had cheated on me.
I was thirty-two years old, and I knew I was behaving like an insecure asshole, probably because I was one. Age didn't make insecurities disappear; despite being a badass and far less emotional than most, my heart and ego had both been trashed by Bianca.
"Why do you all think she trapped me?" I demanded.
"Why else would you marry her?" my mother said in disgust. "Though honestly, Damian…I can't imagine what you see in her. Compared to Bianca…this girl is plain and a failure."
Mom had this notion that her boys were perfect and most women who wanted to get with us wanted our money only. She liked Bianca though because she was self-made and successful.
Emilia was none of those things. She had some low-end nepo job and she lived in a hole in the wrong part of Market Street based on her address that she'd put down on the annulment papers she left with me.
"She's twenty-three years old, Mom, I think it's a bit too early to write her entire life off as a failure." I had no idea why I was defending my wife, but it made my heckles rise to hear my family speak so disparagingly about her.
"Please tell me you're not in love with this silly girl?" My father's nostrils flared with anger.
It was as if they'd all forgotten that I was a grown man who ran a billion dollar company with ruthless precision and didn't balk at stepping out of legal lines to protect our family.
"She wants to annul the marriage. And she didn't want any money," I told them.
My mother scoffed. "Really? I don't believe that. From what Maeve says, Emilia has always been flighty and always asking them for money. Finally, they just gave her a job, which she doesn't even do very well apparently. Doesn't matter. We will get her to sign a post-nuptial. And you will divorce her."
I hadn't told them that Emilia and I had already decided on ending our marriage in six months. That should be enough time for the media to quiet down. Enough time for Bianca to feel the pain of what she did. Enough time for me to get my wife's tight pussy out of my system.
Damn! I couldn't sleep with her. It would unfair when we knew we were going to end the marriage.
I, who didn't believe in contrition or remorse, had it in spades when it came to Emilia. I couldn't regret having sex with her because fuck it had been hot. But I couldn't do it again…that would give her false hope about what she meant to me. She wasn't experienced enough to fuck and forget.
"Did she roofie you?" Duncan asked.
"No. Fuck no. I told you, we had a brief—"
"I call bullshit on that," Dad cut in. "And I've seen this girl…seriously, Damian, what the fuck did you see in her?"
So many things that I hadn't seen before. She was funny. She blamed herself for everything, carrying the burdens of the world on her shoulders. She loved her family. She was kind and sweet. She was sincere. She was trusting.
"She doesn't want any money from me. Trust me," I tried again.
"Trusting you is what got us here," Mom admonished. "I'll talk to her and get this done."
"Mom, no," I warned. "She's my wife and you're gonna have to respect that. Say what you want here in our family circle but out of here, she's the best thing to enter the Archer family. Am I clear?"
"Don't teach me about public relations, son, I'm the Queen of PR." My mother never minced her words and obviously she wasn't going to do that now either.
"Where is she going to live?" Duncan asked.
"My apartment."
"No," my father and Duncan said at the same time.
"What? Why?"
"Because that will make the annulment harder to get…if she can prove that you were living together and behaving like a married couple. Just…let her stay at her place. We'll keep her out of the public eye and—"
"What part of we're married are you all having trouble with?" I knew my family loved me, but sometimes they were over-the-top protective. I wasn't some kid who'd fucked up. I made some dubious choices in my anger but that didn't change my ability to protect myself and my family.
My anger and thoughtless actions had led to this. My family was freaking out. The Winters were out of their mind with hurt and worry. And then there was Emilia.
What did she call herself? Invisible Miss Winters. And I'd just made sure her face was plastered around every gossip site as the villain in the Damian Archer-Bianca Winters love story.
"The Winters are coming over for dinner," my mother told me, "Let's talk to them and put this plan in action."
I shook my head. "I'm going home to have dinner—"
Jameson, the Archer family butler, and majordomo came into the living room then. "Mrs. Archer, Mister, Missus and Miss Winters just cleared security at the gates."
"Thanks, Jameson." My mother rose in a flourish of chiffon and silk.
She was one of the most elegant women I knew. Bianca was a lot like her. They both had a sense of style that you simply couldn't buy. Sure, a designer could put Emilia in some fancy clothes, but she'd always look like a lost waif as she had that morning in that black jumpsuit and white shirt. She hadn’t looked twenty-three…more like a teenager. She had no make up on. Her hair was tied in a messy bun.
Christ! Maybe it was a good thing she'd stayed away from the media all these years, because those barracudas would eat her alive for being clueless.
I'd have to make sure that didn't happen again.
Regardless of how and why we got married, she was my responsibility. I had dragged her into a scheme I never should have, so the least I could do was protect her while we were married, especially since I had fucked up her life.
I decided then that I'd also make sure that she got some money once this was over, so she could get her life in order, and do something with it.
"You look miserable," Duncan said as I heard the Winters in the front room, talking to my parents.
"I am. I…all this is hard on Emilia." I hadn't meant to say that, but it was top of mind.
Duncan nodded. "For now, let's talk to the Winters and get ahead of the media shitstorm. We can figure your wife out after that. But she can't live with you, Damian."
"The media will hound her at her place and if they find out we're not living together, they'll go rabid," I warned Duncan. "At the Four Seasons there is security."
"We'll move her elsewhere then," Duncan suggested. "Let me think about it."
Before I could answer Duncan, Bianca showed up. She was still crying and a part of me hurt for her; but right now, I was also exhausted. It had been a tumultuous few days since I found out from the PI I hired that Bianca had had an affair with Stanton for several months and not just the one time I'd seen them together.
I had had a meeting at the Ritz Carlton when I saw them by accident. I had been about to call out to Bianca when Stanton kissed her. It was a brief kiss. Bianca was smiling widely. She pushed Stanton away and I could read her lips. She said, "Stop. Someone will see."
We'd just broken up so if she was sleeping with Stanton, technically, she wasn't cheating on me. But we broke up all the time and made up right after. I didn't use that time to fuck other women. That's when I began to wonder.
It took the PI a couple of weeks to collect surveillance video and credit card records that told me that my Bianca and Matt Stanton had been fucking long before we broke up.
Matt Stanton was the son of a Silicon Valley honcho and dabbled as a venture capitalist. He was a useless turd who lived off his Daddy's money and influence. What Bianca found interesting about him, I couldn't understand. She liked men who were strong and commanding. Stanton was none of those things. He would not dominate Bianca—he would let her dominate him. Is that what she wanted? Was playing the Dom her kink?
"Damian." She put her hands on my chest and Duncan kissed the side of her head before walking away.
My family adored Bianca.
But they hadn't seen Bianca just a few hours ago with Emilia. Hell, I'd never that version of Bianca before. It was obvious how little Emilia meant to both Bianca and Maeve.
"Bianca." I stepped away from her.
I was married. I didn't want to touch another woman. Even though my marriage was a sham, the last woman I had sex with was my wife after she became my wife.
Even though Elvis married us at that shitty chapel, marriage was…hell…I couldn't believe I was going to use the word…but it was sacred.
Damn! I'd have to be celibate for at least six months now.
Or maybe I could sleep with Emilia? Convince her to keep her emotions out of it. I knew she was sensuous and sexy. We could have some fun together.
I cleared my throat because memories of our first time instantly made me hard, and I really didn’t need an erection while I talked to my ex.
"Annul the marriage," Bianca demanded.
"You're way out of line, babe."
"We're meant to be together." Tears poured down her cheeks.
I wiped them. We had been friends before we dated. We had history. So much of it.
"I'm afraid not. I'm married."
"If you're married, what are you doing here without your wife?" she demanded, her eyes going from sad to fiery faster than a Porsche went from zero to sixty.
"I'm making peace with my parents," I replied honestly, "And with your family as well."
"She'll never make you happy."
Neither could you, babe.
"That's between my wife and me."
"Don't call her that," Bianca screeched.
I sighed. "Come on, Bianca, let’s—"
She hugged me then, tightly, rubbed her body against mine, always a surefire way to get me in the mood. We ran so hot together that it took just that for my dick to wake up and say hello.
My penis didn't do that this time. In fact, it deflated like a balloon that met a sharp edge.
I gently set Bianca away from me.
"I'm not available to you and will never be, regardless of what happens between my wife and me."
I walked around her and went into the dining room. All eyes were on me. All eyes were accusatory. All eyes carried varied degrees of hurt.
Duncan had left. Son of a bitch had escaped.
Fucking hell! This was going to be a long dinner.