Chapter 7
Emilia
Idecided to go home after Liza left.
She fed me dinner. Fish tacos. They were excellent.
I hadn't heard a peep from Damian, so I didn't know where he was and if he was coming back and what he expected of me. I just knew I couldn't stay here anymore. I needed to go to my studio.
I didn't feel great and was about to call an Uber before my husband showed up.
I suspected that Damian would go into the whole the media needs to see us as a couple nonsense. The media didn't need to see us, period. I needed to get on with my life and get past this mistake. I'd probably never get the love of my family back…oh wait, I never had it to start with, that much was obvious when they devolved into physical abuse.
I was checking to make sure I had everything in my backpack at the dining table when the front door opened. Damn it! I couldn't catch a break.
"Emilia."
I looked up at the sound of my name. First, that wasn't Damian's voice and, second, that didn't sound friendly at all.
"Duncan," I swallowed.
He was the same height as Damian, six plus something. When you were five three, everyone around you was always taller. He was bigger than Damian. I'd heard he used to box professionally, which was why his nose was messed up—though it made him look rakish and dangerous. The operative word was dangerous. I was scared shitless of Duncan; had always been.
He was in a suit and honestly, not that anyone was asking me, it wasn't for him. He'd probably look better in jeans, boots, and a leather vest, like one of the guys from Sons of Anarchy.
"Sit." He gestured at one of the dining chairs.
I wanted to plop myself down, but the desire to go home and feel safe won out.
"Ah…Damian isn't home. And I have to go."
He narrowed his eyes. "And where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Okay, there was no need for him to take that tone and look all menacing.
"Home…my home."
"Sit," he repeated.
What was it with all these Archer men bossing me around? Okay, so I made a mistake by marrying the drunk son of a bitch, but no one put a gun to his head. This wasn't entirely my fault, but I was the one being called a home wrecker in the media. I was the one who had a concussion. I was the one who had to deal with Angry Duncan Archer, who was scary as hell when he was normal.
"No. I have to go."
He grabbed my arm and pushed me down onto a chair.
"Hey," I remonstrated.
"We need to talk."
He turned a chair around and sat on it, leaning forward on the back of the chair. He was so close that I worried he would be able to tell that I hadn't brushed my teeth after I woke up from my nap and thanks to the pain pills Doc insisted I take when he was here, there was a weird taste in my mouth.
I folded my arms and waited.
"You're going to sign a post-nuptial agreement."
I raised my eyebrows and nodded, then shrugged.
"What?" He cocked his head, holding his ear close to my mouth. "Use your words."
"I’ll sign whatever."
He stared at me like I just spoke in Mandarin.
"Don't expect much in the form of payment."
"Payment for what?"
He was getting angrier, I could see that, and I really didn't need this bull to be any further enraged, but I needed to understand what the hell he was talking about.
"You're a gold digging bitch, we all know that. A hundred thousand dollars, that's the best I can offer."
I blinked now. What the…who? "Who is this we all?" Filter, woman!
"You will sign the fucking post-nuptial agreement, a marriage dissolution document that we will date when we feel it's appropriate; and an NDA."
I felt a tic in my eye. My head throbbed. My stitches were burning. I was two-hours beyond the need for pain medication, which I wouldn't take because it made me woozy, and I hated drugs of any kind. I think my period was about to start because I felt bile rise in my throat and tears in my eyes, both at the same time, which was a sign of either my menses or me needing to drink a bottle of wine because life was sucking hard. Either way, I was sick and tired of the shit I'd been put through in the past few days.
"You have these documents on you? I already signed annulment papers and gave them to your brother. He wants to stay married until the media hoopla dies down. I don't give a shit." I didn't know where I had the courage to go head-to-head with Duncan Archer, but hey, I was on my last leg of patience. I wanted my bed and my lavender candle; and oolong tea. I wanted my comfortable blanket, and my flannel pajama shorts and an old soft t-shirt. I wanted my lovely warm bed.
"Someone will get them to you tomorrow."
"Great."
"And, you can't live here with Damian. I know he wants you to, but you need to get the fuck out of here."
I smiled broadly then rose and slung my backpack on a shoulder. "Which is exactly what I was trying to do before you barged in."
He looked at my backpack. "What's in there?"
"My things."
He grabbed it away from me and opened it. And then to my horror, unceremoniously dumped the contents on the dining table.
I was too appalled to even yell at him.
My computer fell with a thud, and I cringed at the sound. He went through everything, and I sighed. Did he think I was stealing something? What the hell? I was one of the most honest people I knew.
My bag didn't have much. A pair of extra panties because you never knew when you needed them. Panty liners because…same reason. A Chapstick. A pen. A tube of hand moisturizer and a bottle of sanitizer. My phone with a credit card in the case. And the copy of the annulment papers I'd left with Damian.
He held up my computer and phone charger and dropped them on the table.
I'd taken nothing from Damian's place. I had even left the painkillers Doc had prescribed in the guestroom. Didn't want them. I'd seen way too many go down that path into addiction and I had enough problems already.
He picked up the copy of the annulment documents. He looked through them. "Where's the rest of this?"
"Rest of what?"
"The annulment papers, Emilia," he said enunciating each word like I was too stupid to understand him.
"There's nothing else. Should there be?" I asked puzzled.
"Where's the monetary addendum?"
"The what?"
"The money part, Emilia. The part that tells us how much money you want to gouge out of us?"
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "You think I want money?"
"Don't you?"
"Sure. But I don't want your money or Damian's money or anyone's money. I want to make my own money. Speaking of which, you mentioned a hundred thousand dollars… well, I'm not interested. I'll sign whatever; but keep your money."
I had had enough. I got up and started to pack my stuff into the backpack…again.
He grabbed my wrist. I winced. "What's your game?"
I removed his wrist from his grip. "I got no game, Duncan. Look at me." I wanted so badly to go to sleep. "I'm tired. My head hurts. I don't have a job, so I need to find one. The media is calling me a man-stealing whore. My mother slapped me. My sister manhandled me and now I have a concussion because of which I have a blistering headache. I'm exhausted. I want to be in my home and my bed. So, if you don't mind, just deliver the damn papers you want me to sign and let me go."
I held up the annulment papers to where my address was listed. "And this is my address."
Duncan stared at me like I was an alien from Mars. I got it. If he thought I was a gold digger, he couldn't comprehend why the hell I wasn't digging into the Archer fortune.
"You don't want any money?" he asked softly.
"No." I shook my head and winced because that made everything inside my brain scream in pain.
"So, why did you marry my brother?"
"Wow! You must have a poor opinion of your brother if you think the only reason someone would marry him was because of his money."
"Not someone, sweetheart, you."
Well, that was clearly insulting.
I zipped my bag closed and slung it on my shoulder. I gave up and decided to go with the truth. "I've always had a thing for Damian. When he showed up at the Bellagio and paid me attention…it was nice. He never noticed me before." No one did. "Then we went to the casino. I lost a hundred dollars playing blackjack, which I don't know how to play. Damian dragged me out of there and we went for a walk. I didn't realize he was very drunk so when he went on one knee and proposed to me right outside the Silver Bells Wedding Chapel, I said yes. I knew he and Bianca had broken up a while back…," I paused and hung my head in shame, "but I also knew they'd get back together." I raised my head and looked at Duncan pleading for his forgiveness.
"Damian went on one knee and proposed to you?" Duncan sounded surprised and horrified at the same time.
"Imagine how I felt," I mocked. "Damn it." I removed the engagement and wedding ring Damian had put on my finger this morning and held them for Duncan. He opened the palm of his hand, and I dropped the rings into it.
"Anyway, it was like a dream come true, so I married him. It was stupid. He was drunk. I was selfish. I'm sorry. Can you understand how amazing it was that Damian saw me? No one sees me." I closed my eyes because I couldn't keep up the appearance of being okay with any of this anymore. Of having the man, I loved marry me and then having to let him go because it was the right thing to do. Everything inside me hurt.
"I understand," Duncan said softly, his anger seemingly gone.
Thank God!
"We came back to his suite and…," I couldn't tell him we had sex because that was also embarrassing. It was amazing sex for me, but he found it…well, he found me inexperienced. Talk about humiliating. "And this morning I asked him to sign the annulment stuff and my friend she said she'll even help me file them at the courthouse. She's a paralegal…well, once she passes the bar, she'll be a lawyer."
Duncan looked at the rings in his hand. "When did he give you these?"
"This morning in his office. That is Bianca's ring."
Duncan nodded.
"It's not my style."
"Why?" he asked curiously.
"It's too big. Oh, don't get me wrong, Bianca will love it. It's a lovely ring. Just not for me."
Duncan set the rings down on the dining table and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a gesture that was so like Damian that I had to smile. The brothers had a lot of similarities though Damian did look better in a suit.
"You don't want any of Damian's money, do you, Emilia?"
"No."
"You're not a gold digger."
"Enh…nothing wrong with being one," I remarked. "My friend, the paralegal, she's also an escort. That's how she paid for law school and what I learned from her is that there's nothing wrong with a woman sleeping with a man for money. Or marrying him for it."
"But not you?"
"I don't want to marry," I said sullenly. "Maybe later in life. I'm twenty-three, Duncan. I was working for my mother and sister because they needed help. I was hoping to save money and…anyway. I'm so tired. I want to go home and get some sleep."
"Alright, Emilia. Do you have a way to get home?"
He'd gone from man on the warpath to kind stranger. But I didn't trust that. He could go right back to being mean to me and I didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. I was about sixty seconds away from sobbing my guts out.
"Yes."
"Okay. Someone will reach out to you tomorrow with paperwork."
"Thanks, Duncan."
I didn't wait for him to change his mind about grilling me further and I skedaddled out of Damian's luxury apartment.