Contractually Yours: An Arranged Marriage Romance (The Lasker Brothers Book 4)
Contractually Yours: Chapter 14

–Sebastian: I checked, but never received any docs about the collaboration.

That’s weird. I asked Bianca to resend everything to him after our lunch at Gion, and she confirmed that she did. Is he just being difficult? But he has no reason to claim he never got them. This sort of move costs him money, too.

On the other hand, our contract specified I’d be spearheading the collaboration, so this could be a way to undermine me. I swallow a sigh and pull Julio up on the intercompany messenger.

–Me: Would you email all the Sebastian Peery collaboration docs to Sebastian Lasker? [email protected]

–Me: Also can you instruct security to not allow Roderick, Karl or Vonnie into the building under any circumstance? If they are insistent, tell them to contact Jeremiah Huxley at Huxley & Webber. Also, disable Karl’s employee badge and access keys.

I set my phone so all calls from Roderick, Karl and Vonnie will go to voicemail. I consider blocking them, but they’d just get other numbers to harass me with. By the time they learn about my marriage, it’ll be too late.

That done, I scan my inbox. The most important is an email from my legal team in Nesovia saying that the papers have been filed and acknowledged. Roderick can no longer act as my trustee in any capacity. Nor is he my proxy for the Peery Diamonds shares in the special trust.

Right below that delightful notice is one from Julio with a list of audit teams I could hire to look into my personal finances. I pick a couple, and instruct Julio to set up appointments with them. I need to dig into how my trust fund has been used. Although I’m not certain exactly what I can do about Roderick’s generous use of my money—the laws are a warren of loopholes—I need to know the extent of the damage. And a good legal team should be able to come up with some ways to make it hurt for him.

I send instructions to HR to fire Karl for excessive absenteeism and dereliction of duty, then tally up all the days he’s been absent and do everything in our power to claw back his salary and benefits for those days.

Afterward, I email Naomi in internal compliance, and ask her to do a thorough audit of expense reports for the last twenty-four months. Every time I tried to use internal compliance to investigate some of the executives’ expenses, Roderick did everything in his power to stop it. Even though he isn’t a member of our C-suite, he had an enormous say in the way Peery Diamonds is run because he got to vote my shares as he saw fit.

But not anymore. I plan to audit everyone at the VP level and above because I suspect some of them are embezzling. Not that they’re doing anything as dramatic as taking a million dollars in one shot out of the company coffers. The most common way to embezzle is padding expenses, and it isn’t that difficult for executives to claim additional thousands of dollars a month that haven’t been spent if internal control is lax.

I also need to announce my marriage, but after speaking to Sebastian about how we should go about doing that.

My phone pings.

–Bianca: I just saw! I can’t believe you got married without me!

–Bianca: Unless it was just fake news and they photoshopped it.

News? Disappointment and resignation settle over me. I guess some paparazzi got us after all. Damn it. I wanted to have our PR team coordinate the announcement with Sebastian’s people.

At the same time, I want to pat myself on the back for blocking my family from entering the building this morning.

–Me: Sorry for not letting you know. But there’s no mistake.

–Bianca: I wanted to be there for you! You’re my best friend!

–Me: I know, but there was Sebastian’s schedule, and Jason’s as well.

–Bianca: Who’s Jason?

–Me: Jason Choi. Remember him from high school? He’s a judge now. He agreed to marry us.

–Bianca: Oh. Well that was nice of him, but jeez.

Her texts are brimming with peevishness. I have to smile because I know it’s coming from her desire to be there for me at all times.

–Me: I’m really sorry. But I didn’t want to bother you while you’re dealing with your family crisis. That’s more important than this. By the way, how are you holding up?

–Bianca: Okay. Auntie says thanks for the lilies. It was so thoughtful of you.

–Me: It was nothing.

–Bianca: I’ll be home soon.

–Me: Don’t hurry on my behalf. Do what you need to do.

–Bianca: I don’t want to miss anything important in your life. Who’s gonna watch your back if I’m not around?

Bianca is the most loyal bestie a woman could ask for. My life would’ve been so much harder without her on my side.

–Bianca: BTW, how’d you get Gabriella Ricci to make that statement?

My belly burns at the mention of Sebastian’s ex. What did she do, and what kind of PR disaster am I in now?

–Me: What statement?

–Bianca: That she dumped him and there was no man-stealing. She was pretty convincing.

That must be Sebastian’s doing. I make a mental note to check it out later.

–Bianca: Anyway, I’m happy she said that. I’d hate for people to continue to think badly of you.

–Bianca: Also, just checked the flight schedule. I should be there by Thursday at the latest.

–Me: Then you’ll be back in time for the reception! I’ll make sure you’re on the guest list.

–Bianca: Thank you! Totally forgot about the wedding reception! OMG, it’s so exciting. And I already made a guest list. I did it for your wedding with that cheating dickhead, but you can use it for this event, too. Same family and all that. It’s on the company intranet. I’ll text Julio and let him know.

–Me: You’re off the clock. I’ll tell him. Just take care of yourself. And if you need more time with your family and relatives, you let me know, okay?

–Bianca: Will do. Love you.

–Me: Same. :heart-emoji:

My calendar app alerts me to a meeting in five minutes. I put the phone down and head out. To make up for yesterday’s lost time, I work through lunch. Around four p.m., I ask James to bring the car around. I want to drop by our flagship store in Los Angeles. From time to time, I do an impromptu store visit to make sure all our retail locations have the proper look and feel. Some consultants Darren hired said each place having its own wildly unique flavor is better, but I disagree. Peery Diamonds sells a luxurious experience along with extravagant jewelry, and certain baseline standards must be met. That said, I love seeing the extra touches that the store managers add to make their particular store feel more exclusive and upscale, and figuring out ways to implement the best of them across all our locations.

After I climb into the car, I realize that the unpleasantly familiar paparazzo is still missing.

“Have you seen That Stalker anywhere today?” I ask James.

“No. Haven’t seen any of them,” he says, his eyes on the road.

“How weird.”

He grunts. “I’m glad they’re finally leaving you alone.”

“I guess…” Although I should be happy, part of me is antsy because something feels off. They’ve been hounding me since I was a teenager. Why stop now? Is this also Sebastian’s doing? Did he threaten to sue them after they published articles about me, him and Gabriella? Is that why they’re stopping?

Should I have tried to sue them when they messed with me before? I’ve considered it many times, but Bianca convinced me that legal action would draw more attention. She said they might become even more relentless to show that they aren’t afraid of lawsuits. “If they were worried about getting sued, they would’ve never become paparazzi.”

She’s right, but still…

Spending hundreds of thousands on legal fees would be worth it if it can get them off my back.

As the Cullinan maneuvers through the busy Los Angeles traffic, I stare outside. So many cars, so many people. I let out a long breath.

The world feels so free right now. With the international headquarters relocation, internal audits and the Sebastian Peery collaboration starting in earnest, I have more on my plate than ever before—but the endless task list doesn’t feel daunting. I’m actually energized, knowing I’m finally in the driver’s seat.

A bus roars by on the other side of the street. On its side is a bright eye-shadow advertisement featuring a smiling Gabriella Ricci.

My heart freezes for a moment. Her hair unbound and her smile saucy and carefree, she looks nothing like me, not just in features or coloring, but in demeanor. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled like that. What Ted said yesterday comes back to me.

You’re totally not Sebastian’s type.

But he wanted me—at least, he wanted my body. I don’t know what to feel about the fact that he’s in love with Gabriella, but seems to desire me so much. Look at what happened yesterday in the limo and this morning in the gym. I also can’t decide if I should be happy or horrified that I crave him back so shamelessly.

Then I realize I haven’t checked the statement Bianca mentioned earlier. Gabriella posted a video on her feed, looking as gorgeous as ever.

“I don’t know why people are saying that Lucienne Peery ‘stole’ Sebastian. Do I look like a woman who has men stolen from her?” She scoffs, then grins playfully at the audience. “Our relationship wasn’t going in the direction I wanted, so it was time to move on, even though Sebastian’s a fabulous guy. It’s me, not him.” Her tone says it is him. “Anyway, I wish them both the best.”

So. She dumped him after he told her he needed to marry me. Hardly surprising—I would’ve done exactly the same in her situation. No wonder he just said he and Gabriella were fine and refused to elaborate. He’s probably broken up about it.

My situation feels like emotional adultery. I might have legal claim to him, but it’s Gabriella who has his heart.

And although Sebastian was insulted at the notion that I don’t expect him to be particularly faithful, the fact that his penis doesn’t care whom his heart belongs to makes me sad and feel like a second choice, like I’ve always been to so many people in my life.

On the other hand, he said he’d be faithful during our marriage, most likely out of some sense of honor or what little respect he has left for me. I can’t demand he stays celibate while we’re married if he’s making an effort to be a decent husband. My own conflicting emotions are my burden for forcing this marriage on him. I’m not going to think about anything except being a good wife until I’m done with the expatriation and we can have an amicable divorce. That’s the least I owe him.

The car finally stops in front of the flagship store. James opens the door.

“Thanks,” I murmur, and stride into our giant marble and glass monument to luxury.

This location is sentimental. I got my first position at Peery Diamonds as a junior associate here. Grandfather didn’t believe that I could be an effective executive if I didn’t know how our associates interfaced with—and sold to—the customers.

My heels clack quietly on the shiny champagne-colored stone floor. The crown-shaped mini chandeliers glow softly, and Chopin floats along the air. Every glass case is spotless, the navy velvet pristine. All sorts of gemstones sparkle under the lights, showing off our exceptional cuts and designs.

A couple of Asian women are seated on one of the benches. They’re nearly identical in appearance—the same conservative black skirt suit, black pumps and hair pulled back into buns. Their nails are neatly trimmed and without polish, and they aren’t wearing any jewelry, except for pearl studs of average quality you might replace in any mid-tier department store. The watches on their wrists are functional, with simple round faces and dark brown leather straps, not something you’d replace in luxury stores.

In front of them is a table with two velvet trays showcasing cuff links, rings and bracelets. I move closer, curious as to exactly what type of designs they’re looking at, since they don’t seem to fit the profile of our typical clientele. When I’m three steps from the table, a dark-haired toddler comes running full speed out of nowhere. He’s holding a child’s sippy cup in one hand, and he runs smack into my leg.

He promptly lands on his butt. The cup flies out of his chubby little hand, half of what proves to be chocolate milkshake landing on me. The icy liquid drenches my dress and drips down onto my shoes. The other half splatters all over the trays, soiling the glittering items.

It happens so fast that the boy just stares up at me like a stunned little angel, his brown eyes wide. He looks down at his empty hand, and at my wet dress. His chin starts to tremble, and tears spike his long eyelashes.

“It’s okay,” I say.

The Asian women are already on their feet and rushing over. One of them puts a calming hand on the boy’s back, making a soothing sound. The other one approaches me, pulling a pack of antibacterial wipes from her huge black purse.

“I am so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t realize he was running.” She looks extremely concerned. “He was sitting quietly when we checked just a moment ago.”

Rapidly clicking footsteps approach from my left. I turn and see a slim Asian woman running toward us. Unlike the other two, she’s in an off-white wide-brimmed hat, purple asymmetrical dress and nude peep-toe stilettos. Her long auburn hair is unbound, and the diamonds on her ears and around her throat are large and of excellent quality—something Peery Diamonds might carry. The watch on her wrist is a limited edition from Sebastian Jewelry’s watch launch. She must’ve been on some sort of VIP list to be able to score one.

“Liam! What are you doing?” Her eyes scan me and the milkshake-soaked trays. Expertly manicured hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

The boy lifts his arms toward her. “Mommy,” he says, as more tears flow down his cheeks.

She crouches and picks him up. The boy instantly clutches her like a koala, rubbing his teary face all over her shoulder, but she doesn’t seem to care about the mess he’s making on a dress that cost well over four thousand dollars. My heart softens at the obvious love she has for the child. It’s the kind of interaction I longed for with my own mother—to know I came first.

She turns to the women and says something sharp in a language I don’t understand. They respond in the same tongue.

She turns to me. “I’m so sorry about all this. It’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Kids are kids,” I say with a smile.

“Yes, but regardless, it should not have happened. There’s a reason why I have his nanny with us.”

My eyes slide to the two women who are looking like they just got caught committing treason.

“Ms. Lim is the nanny. Ms. Kim is my assistant,” the boy’s mom explains, then turns her attention back to my dress. “I hope the milkshake comes out, but it’s so…chocolate.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

She doesn’t seem to hear me as she makes a distressed sound in her throat. “It just looks awful. And your shoes…”

“I have another pair. And this is just a dress.” I give them a small shrug and smile.

“Thanks for saying that, but we both know it’s not just a dress,” she says. “That’s a limited edition Avery Parker.”

I raise my eyebrows. She’s correct; I bought it from Avery Parker, a fairly new designer who’s made a huge splash in the last few years.

“There are only fifty in that collection, and they all sold out.”

“Okay, now I’m curious. How would you know that?”

“My mother financed Avery when she was new, and I have one of the dresses in my closet. I’ve been saving it for my anniversary.”

Avery Parker was backed by the Hae Min Group… “Are you Yuna Hae Winters?” I ask.

“Yes.” She arches an eyebrow. “My turn to ask: how did you know?”

“How could I not?” Anyone who researches the Hae Min Group can replace out that it’s a multinational conglomerate controlled by the Hae family. The chairman has two children—Eugene and Yuna. Although the latter isn’t involved with running the business, the rumor is that if you want a favor from the Hae Min Group, the easiest route is through Yuna because she’s the baby of the family and they adore her. “We’re in the middle of negotiating a partnership with the Hae Min Group.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes! I’m Lucienne Peery. You can call me Lucie or Luce.” I extend my hand, while bracing myself for her reaction. People always regard me with cool judgment when they learn who I am, thanks to all the awful headlines out there. Whatever I do afterward doesn’t generally change their preconceived opinion of me.

Her smile grows wider, her eyes still warm. “Oh, that’s why you look so familiar. I love your jewelry! So classy, with modern sensibility.” She shifts her boy and shakes hands. “But it isn’t always easy to replace it. I was consulting with one of your designers because I need something custom-made for my husband. Our anniversary is coming up soon.”

Relief floods through me. “Then you’re in the right place. I’m sure our designers can do some amazing custom work for you.”

“They did! They showed me some preliminary sketches, and everything looks amazing. I’m so excited.” She glows beautifully. “The custom matching bracelets they did for me and my soul sister last year were absolutely wonderful, too.”

“Soul sister?”

“It’s like a soul mate, except your best friend, who feels like your sister, you know? Ivy loves your jewelry, too. Look at this bracelet.” She lifts her arm, showing off double strings of platinum charms and diamonds. “We wear them all the time.”

“That’s pretty.” I smile with pride. I reach into my purse, take out my card and hand it to her. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

“Thank you so much. You’re the best. Also, here’s my card.”

One of the Asian ladies instantly produces a card and hands it to me.

Yuna continues, “Call me if the stain doesn’t come out. I’ll figure something out and make it right for you. I haven’t seen Avery in a while anyway.” She grins.

“Thanks for the offer,” I say, although I have no intention of reaching out to her about the dress. It’s really not that big of a deal. I run my hand along the back of Liam’s head, feel the smooth silk of his hair. He looks at me worriedly. He knows he made a mess. I smile. “Don’t worry, Liam. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m not in trouble?” he asks in a small voice.

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry,” he says gravely, while Yuna and I press our lips to not laugh at his heavy sigh, as though the weight of the world rests on his little shoulders.

“Apology accepted.”

He looks at the empty milkshake cup, the corners of his soft mouth turning more downward.

“Do you like ice cream? We have some if you’d like that and if your mother’s okay with it,” I add. The flagship store serves refreshments, and ice cream’s something we keep in stock.

He lifts his head, his eyes shining with instant happiness. “Ice cream?”

“Yes.”

He turns to his mother. “Is it okay?”

Yuna laughs. “Uh-huh.” She kisses his forehead and turns to me. “Thank you so much. You’re so kind.”

“My pleasure.”