Have you seen these?” Bryce tosses a stack of glossy magazines onto the table in front of me.

I give them a cursory glance but don’t need to look to see what’s been printed. Tyler sent me pictures from various websites yesterday morning, along with three dozen scream-face emojis. It seems like everyone in the world is aware of Nathan and me getting engaged the night before last. All my work friends have called or texted, and I even got messages from a few old high school friends I haven’t spoken to in years. At least the photographs are flattering, and objectively, we do make a cute couple.

Bryce’s expression is full of unbridled glee. “This is perfect, little sister. The more publicity your relationship gets, the more the James PR machine will want to keep reports under wraps when your marriage ends because Nathan James is a cheating snake.”

I roll my eyes. All he needs to do is rub his sweaty palms together and he’d be a caricature of himself. “But he’s not a cheating snake, Bryce.”

He snorts. “Not yet.”

“Maybe not ever.” I shake my head and pour a cup of tea from my mother’s favorite china teapot. She took to her bed fifteen minutes after my arrival for our usual Sunday tea, overcome with joyful delirium over the news of my engagement to a billionaire being splashed all over social media and the gossip columns.

Bryce shoots me a look of pure disdain. “You have so much to learn about men like Nathan James, little sister.”

“Or maybe you’re just too quick to judge everybody by your own low standards.”

He lifts his hand, and I flinch, causing a dark laugh to tumble out of him. He drops his hand, and I wonder if he realized how bad it would look for me to be photographed with a black eye. Not to mention how my future husband would want to know where I got such an injury, and then this whole arrangement could come to a grinding halt.

“All I’m saying is that you’re convinced Nathan will cheat on me and you’ll be able to cash in on this morality clause, but he’s not an idiot. If he agrees to such a clause, he isn’t stupid enough to break it. And besides any of that, what if he’s just not a cheater? Because if I’m honest, he doesn’t strike me as the cheating type.”

As I expected, that only earns me a condescending sneer from my older brother, but I’m not going to sit here and have him talk trash about a man who has only ever been a perfect gentleman with me. He seems honest and loyal, the exact opposite of a man who cheats on his wife.

He snorts. “You’re wrong, Melanie. But even on the slim chance you’re right and he does manage to keep his dick in his pants for a few months, that’s why we’re going to put temptation in his way.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Are you talking about that damn honey trap idea again?”

“It’s the perfect plan, Melly.” He arches an eyebrow, and it makes him look like a Bond villain. “And if you’re so sure he won’t cheat, what harm could it do?”

“I’m not marrying someone in the hopes that he’ll cheat on me!”

He practically doubles over with laughter, which is abruptly cut off with a mocking smile. “And what’s the alternative, little Melly? That he falls in love with you, and you live happily ever after?”

I clench my jaw tight and mentally count to five. “No. But our reasons for doing this are sound. We both want children. And if you’re right that me becoming Nathan’s wife will save Dad’s business, this marriage will secure Ashley’s future, which is my primary concern. He’s a good man, Bryce, and no, we might not have a happily ever after, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy. That doesn’t mean we can’t raise children together and be friends while we do it.” I think of my own parents and how unhappy my father must have been in his marriage. “And you know what, that’s more than a lot of people get.”

He shakes his head. “You’re so naive.”

“Maybe so. But I’m in this for the long haul. So even if you do go along with your ridiculous honey trap idea, I wouldn’t divorce him anyway.”

My words are like a red rag to a bull, igniting his short temper. He jumps up so quickly that the French antique chair clatters to the floor, and he bangs his meaty fist on the table. “This is not up for negotiation, Melanie!” He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Sharp pain sears my scalp, but I don’t struggle. I’ve learned enough painful lessons about the futility of such an endeavor. “You will marry who I tell you to marry, and you will do whatever the fuck I tell you to, when I tell you to do it. And if that includes divorcing that arrogant prick, you damn well will. Do you understand me?”

I press my lips together, refusing to answer.

He pulls my hair harder. “Never forget that you are the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. You are the reason Dad died. And if you don’t use that pretty cunt of yours to do something useful for a change, our baby sister will have to drop out of that fancy college, and I’ll marry her off to some billionaire too,” he spits, his expression twisted with rage. “Now do you understand me?”

Tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “Yes, Bryce.”

He lets my hair go, and I wince at the burning pain left behind. “Good girl. Now, let’s have some tea.” His gloating smile causes my stomach to lurch, but I merely nod and hand him the teapot.

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