Chapter Three
HE HADN’T BEEN surprised she’d told him to go to hell and stormed out of the penthouse.
He’d been deliberately harsh in his offer, hoping she’d refuse.
It was his standard operating procedure: only offer what he’d be happy to have accepted.
Those were the only terms under which he operated.
He’d intentionally presented the deal in such a way that made it almost impossible for a woman like Annie to acquiesce to.
Almost.
But then again, she’d loved her parents so much she’d given Theo up without a second thought.
She’d lived her whole life in their shadow, had been theirs to control and dictate to.
So it was little surprise that his doorbell rang a few hours later, and a fierce-looking Annie stood on the other side, her eyes sparking with sheer, unadulterated hatred and distaste, reminding him, for a moment, of her father, who’d regarded him with just such a look of scathing contempt, several years earlier.
Back then, Theo had still been just softened enough by Annie and her influence on him to have started to hope that the older man might one day look at Theo like a son.
He’d still had a hope, somewhere deep inside, that he had a value beyond what he could bring to a company.
He’d had a hope that he was worth loving.
How stupid he’d been.
Still a damaged child, hurt and seeking to be repaired, instead of just accepting that some people couldn’t be fixed, and that was okay.
‘Twice in one day, how fortunate,’ he drawled, stepping back in silent invitation, but Annie shook her head.
‘I don’t need to come in. This won’t take long.’ If her expression had been a mask of contempt, then her voice was utterly dripping with it.
He had to admire her. When she’d left this place a few hours earlier, she’d been obviously furious, but also, clearly reeling.
Her petite, slender frame had been shaking like a kitten, her skin whiter than snow.
Now she was all fire and flame, spitting fury at him.
He much preferred that—he felt more comfortable staring down anger than he did looking at pain, and knowing himself to be the cause.
‘I’ll go along with your proposal, but I have a counter proposal to offer.’
His admiration increased, but he didn’t convey so much as a hint of that. ‘Perhaps you’re misunderstanding your bargaining position, Annie. I hold all the cards. You need something from me, and I need nothing from you.’
‘I understand my position just fine, and I also understand you now. You’re lying when you say you don’t need anything from me—you revealed your hand this afternoon.’
Something crept inside his gut, a feeling like surprise. No one had stood up to him for a very long time—and the fact that challenge was now coming from Annie was strangely appealing. Strangely attractive too, if he was honest. ‘Oh, did I?’
‘You want revenge. You want to hurt my father. Hell, I’m pretty sure you want to hurt me.
’ She tilted her chin with courage, though, holding his gaze, even when her eyes were burning with rage and disgust. ‘And that’s fine.
If that’s the means to the end I need here, I’ll go along with your sick plan. It will be worth it.’
In the back of his mind, he was aware of how empty his response was to her agreement.
Usually, a victory elicited a rare moment of joy for Theo, a feeling that he was completing his purpose, that he was fulfilling the one thing he was good at.
But Annie’s acceptance left him strangely hollowed out, almost as if he really had wanted her to walk away.
‘However, I need more.’
‘More—’ his skepticism sounded totally relaxed ‘—than the small fortune it will take to acquire your father’s business?’
‘I want a guarantee of a settlement in our divorce.’
His gaze narrowed. ‘I already told you, you’ll get the company.’
‘Yes, but it occurs to me that you could gleefully destroy the company—whilst being married to me, your apparently fawning wife—thus utterly destroying my father for good. Only a fool would take that risk with a man like you.’
Her words cut through him like acid might a flimsy piece of fabric.
That she could think him capable of such a betrayal was no surprise—not after the way he’d spoken to her this afternoon.
But if there was one thing Theodoros Leonidas lived and died by, it was his code of honour. ‘My word is my bond,’ he said darkly.
‘Yes, well, it’s not enough to bond me to you. I want an ironclad prenup, with a divorce settlement that will make this whole charade worthwhile, regardless of what happens with the company.’
‘So you will walk away with the company and what? A multimillion-dollar settlement?’
‘No,’ her smile was saccharine. ‘If you are able to rebuild the company to an agreed-upon commercial value within eighteen months—and I will not be married to you for a day longer than that, you understand?—I’ll forego the divorce settlement.
It’s one or the other. Believe me, I don’t want a cent of yours if I can avoid it.
But if we’re going to do this to my father, I need to know he’ll at least be financially looked after for the rest of his life. ’
It was an excellent suggestion by her. He had absolutely no intention of going back on the promise he’d made her that afternoon, nor on reneging on the terms of their agreement, but her precaution was protective and wise, and very, very canny.
He was so focused on her negotiating abilities, he didn’t notice that she made no reference to her own comfort, and the rest of her own life—it was all about her father.
‘And you agree that from the moment we put this in motion, our relationship will become public. Very, very public?’
Her cheeks flashed with a hint of colour—infinitely preferable to the paleness he’d seen that afternoon. ‘That’s part of the deal, yes.’
‘Fine.’ He nodded curtly. ‘I’ll have the wedding contract drawn up. Now, would you like to shake hands, or is there another way we can seal the deal?’
She glared at him, then took a step forward, her eyes overflowing with challenge as she spoke coldly and with barely contained rage.
‘Let’s be clear about something. I hate and despise you with every fibre of my being.
I am marrying you for one reason, and one reason only: to save this company.
I will do whatever you ask, I will be whatever you want, but know this, Theo—you have ruined, forever, anything good I ever thought of you.
Any warmth I ever felt for you, any idea I ever held of you as some wonderful, perfect man.
You destroyed that. You. I came to you at my lowest ebb, needing your friendship, and instead, you blackmailed me into a deal for the sole purpose of hurting my father.
You are the lowest of the low, and I have never been gladder that I listened to sense and walked away from you back then. ’
Each word was delivered like a slap to his skin, spiked and laced with intent, so it took all of his strength to simply stand there and absorb her words with a mask of impassivity, like she wasn’t shredding a part of him to pieces he hadn’t even known still existed.
‘My lawyers will be in touch tomorrow,’ he said, simply, so she nodded, and walked back towards the lift.
He’d thought that was it, but once she’d stepped inside, and was staring at him fearlessly, she said, ‘I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but we’d both know that would be a lie.’
Annie knew Theo’s intention was to hurt her father, and he probably wanted to do that by somehow getting their photos in the papers, and surprising the older man with the relationship.
Over Annie’s dead body. Having been contacted by Theo’s intimidating team of lawyers that morning and gone over the prenuptial agreement, and had her own lawyer then peruse the documents and approve them before signing, she now faced the reality of what she’d agreed to. But it would all be worth it.
Since her mother’s death, she’d done everything she could to hold her father and his company together, but it had been too much. Too much loss and grief for one man to bear, and Annie hadn’t really been in the right headspace either, to do what was necessary.
Well, that was an error she intended to fix, right now, starting with this marriage.
But it would be her way, her terms. Theo would live to rue the day he thought he could bully her into marriage and not pay the price.
A smile tickled the corner of her lips as she reached for her phone—she was almost looking forward to making his life a misery.
Gone was the compliant, adoring girl who’d worshipped at his feet like a puppy dog. Now she was a modern-day Boadicea, without the titian-red hair and with a few more clothes. He wanted revenge? Yeah, well, he wasn’t the only one.
She pressed her father’s name in her phone and waited for it to connect.
When he answered, she felt a pang in the centre of her chest. He was only in his early sixties—still a young man—but life had knocked the wind from his sails, and he sounded at least twenty years older than his age when his voice, thin and frail, came down the phone line.
‘Annie, darling? Is everything okay?’
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hating that he always worried about her.
‘Yes, Daddy, everything’s fine.’ She slipped into the childhood name out of habit.
Though she’d been raised in Greece—her parents had fled there in grief, after Mary’s death, needing a fresh start and a place where nothing reminded them of their late daughter—she was English, like her parents, and so were her habits and mannerisms. ‘I’m calling with good news,’ she said, infusing her voice with a happiness she didn’t feel.
‘Oh?’ She could tell he was trying to rally himself, to remember what it was like to be happy for someone. ‘Yes?’
‘I’m getting married.’
Silence. She could just imagine his lined face growing even more creased with concern.