Contractually Yours: An Arranged Marriage Romance (The Lasker Brothers Book 4) -
Contractually Yours: Chapter 25
The party becomes lackluster without Luce pressed against my side. It isn’t exactly my idea of good time to smile and nod while people congratulate me on a forced marriage.
Roderick comes over. “Have you seen Lucie? I can’t seem to replace her.”
“She stepped out for a moment. Do you want me to tell her you need to see her when she’s back?”
“No, no.” He smiles. “That won’t be necessary. I wanted to talk to you, actually.”
I cock an eyebrow. He and I don’t travel in the same circles. I met him once at his wife’s funeral. Luce made an impression. He didn’t. If somebody had asked me about him afterward, I wouldn’t have had a single thing to say.
“I’m sorry about Karl being a little obnoxious earlier. He thought she was making a mistake.” He gestures at the wedding band on my hand.
“Are you saying her marrying me is a mistake?” Does he know the truth behind our marriage?
“No, but I don’t think you meant to marry her.” His tone says he’s on my side.
I don’t trust people being on my side without a good reason. “I don’t make commitments without knowing what I’m doing.”
“Of course, of course. But she’s only doing this because she’s upset over the lack of control she has at Peery Diamonds. She thinks being married is going to change people’s perception of her, but that isn’t right. I don’t know why she specifically dragged you into this, though. She could’ve picked anybody.”
“What’s the point of this conversation?” I ask, out of patience.
“I’m just saying I could help you be free of her.”
“She’s my wife.”
“Yes, but you might not want her by your side for long.”
I don’t like his smile. “Why are you working against your daughter?” Does he only like Karl because he’s a boy? Luce’s grandfather was a sexist, and Roderick could be just as bad.
“I hate seeing her get worked up about the company and marrying a man who isn’t right for her.” The sneaky glitter in his eyes says he’s going to keep poking until he gets the desired response.
Who the hell does he think he is to judge my marriage to Luce?
He flashes me a friendly smile. “Not that I don’t think you’re a good man, of course. But that doesn’t mean you and she are suited for each other. Anyway, she’s too young and better off letting others manage the company while she collects her dividends. She can still be fabulously wealthy and comfortable.”
As obsequiously sly as Roderick is, I have to give him credit for being persuasive. If I hadn’t seen Luce working hard, I might’ve bought into his view. Hell, even I thought she was just playing around at first. But he’s her father. He should know better and not belittle his youngest to a man he just met. “She seems competent. And often what moves us isn’t money, but a passion for what we do.”
“Everyone wants money,” Roderick says, spreading his hands.
“Not when you have the kind of money we do.”
“Are you telling me you aren’t doing what you’re doing to make money?”
“Money is the icing on the cake. I do what I do for the sense of accomplishment and because I love Sebastian Jewelry and its people. I suspect Luce runs Peery Diamonds for the same reason.”
“I see. Well, I’m happy she found a husband who understands her so well.” He’s smiling and saying all the right things. But my bullshit radar says, Don’t trust a word out of his mouth.
“I’m glad you approve.” Not that I need your approval.
I dismiss him with a nod. He gets the hint and goes to chat with somebody else. He reminds me too much of the Comtoises’ disappointing behavior and attitude in the last few weeks, which is why I didn’t invite any of them to the reception. Also, I really dislike the way he chalks up everything Luce does to greed and ego. What the hell kind of a father is he? No wonder she was unhappy when he showed up.
Still… His devotion to his late wife is well known. Maybe he’s just bad at expressing himself. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment.
Speaking of which… Is Luce okay?
She hasn’t been gone that long, but it shouldn’t take ten minutes to grab some Tylenol. The pantry isn’t that far away.
I remember the pallor beneath her makeup. She’s been anxious and stressed about the party for some reason. She behaved like she expected something to go wrong, which I don’t understand. A good event can be pulled off if you have at least two out of the big three—money, time and expertise.
We spared no expense, and money can buy expertise.
Maybe she’s feeling worse than I thought. I start toward the pantry to check up on her and walk past my brothers, who are talking animatedly.
Noah grabs my elbow. “Come and tell Nicholas my plan is genius!”
Griffin groans. “Oh my God, you’re going to get him killed.”
“What plan?” I ask. Noah’s grip is firm enough to signal he isn’t letting go until he gets my take on it.
“I told Nicholas to hire an escort to seduce the boyfriend of the girl he likes.”
“Terrible idea,” I say.
“Don’t be so judgmental!” Noah protests, at the same time the rest of my brothers say, “Seeeeeeee?”
“If she replaces out, she’ll murder Nicholas,” I say.
“That’s what I said,” Griffin says.
“But if the boyfriend’s the one for her, he won’t have sex with the escort. It’s just a test to see if he’s worthy!” Noah explains.
Nicholas shakes his head. “That’s low.”
Noah opens his mouth.
Nicholas raises a hand. “Nope, nope, nope. It’s six to one. And you’re going to shut up about this, just like you promised.”
Amy walks up with a glass of white wine, wraps an arm around Emmett and smiles at me. “Did I tell you how much I’m enjoying myself? Adult time is so nice.” She’s a new mom. Although she loves Monique, she probably wants to be around people who don’t require cooing as a part of communication.
“I bet. Anyway, let me go,” I say to Noah. “I need to see if Luce is okay.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Amy says. “Her brother was just going to check up on her. He seems a little tense, but—”
Shit. I rush to the pantry. He called her a bitch right in front of me. If he treats her like that in front of her husband, what kind of abuse is he capable of when she’s alone?
My heart races. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s okay.
My brothers’ rapid footsteps follow. They know from my reaction that something is wrong and are ready to provide backup if needed.
Raised voices. I round the corner and spot Karl standing in the doorway, trapping Luce inside the pantry.
“You fucking bitch!” he shouts.
He backhands her, his knuckles striking her face. She staggers backward, crashes against the shelves and falls down. Blood trickles from her nose, dripping down her mouth and chin, falling on her pristine white dress.
A scarlet bomb seems to go off in my head.
“I’m gonna teach you a lesson!” He raises his hand again.
I take a quick step up behind him and grab the wrist, twisting it painfully backward and kicking him in the side at the same time. He stumbles and goes down, rolling a couple of times to get away from me. He tries to regain his footing, but I get between him and Luce and literally punt his ass, propelling him three or four feet forward. He drops to his hands and knees.
“What the hell,” he gasps.
I circle and kick him in the side again. He wheezes, going down on his back in a feeble attempt to escape. I do it again, and he grabs his side and folds up. A rib or two must’ve cracked. Maybe even broken. I stomp the hand holding the ribcage, then again until I can feel the bones going. His scream pisses me off. Luce was so traumatized, she couldn’t even whimper.
Fucking asshole. I’m going to murder him.
I smash a heel into his crotch, and his screams go up an octave. My brothers inhale sharply, but they don’t try to intervene.
I kick Karl’s kidneys a couple of times, then stomp on him until he’s a bloody mess. Nicholas comes over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t want to kill him. He isn’t worth going to jail for.”
“Mom can get him off,” Huxley says casually.
“Hux. Not helping,” Nicholas says.
“Nicholas is right,” Grant says. “That piece of shit’s taken enough of your time. Your wife needs you right now.”
My wife. I turn around. “Where is she?”
“Amy took her upstairs,” Emmett says. “She probably doesn’t need to see this.”
“No, she doesn’t,” I manage, purposely slowing my breathing to settle my temper. I don’t want to look like a raging lunatic when I face my wife, when she must be traumatized. But fuck. It’s impossible to calm down. I exhale hard.
I flick Karl a look full of contempt. But some of the contempt is directed at myself. I should’ve checked up on her sooner, instead of letting Roderick take up my time with his bullshit. Did he keep me occupied on purpose? If so, I’ll put him in the hospital. “Stay away from my wife, if you value your life.”
Karl moans, struggling to get to his knees. “What the…? She’s my sister!” He tries to shout, but it comes out as a half whine, half wheeze.
“She’s my wife. Nobody touches what’s mine.”
“Fuckin’ sue yer ass,” he slurs.
For fuck’s sake. The negative publicity is going to stress Luce out. Maybe I should keep kicking him.
“Good luck replaceing a witness,” Huxley says, scratching his ear.
“You saw,” Karl says.
“I was checking the news.” Noah waves his phone.
“Saw what?” Grant says, looking around.
“I saw somebody trying to exterminate a pest. Not exactly a crime,” Emmett says.
Nicholas sighs, like the unthinkable has happened. “It’s too bad the cockroach lived. But then, they can live through nuclear explosions.”
“When people fall in a kitchen, they often suffer catastrophic damage,” Griffin says. “There are studies.”
I smile at my brothers’ unified front against Karl. I should’ve known better than to worry about publicity.
“You can’t—do this to me!” he wheezes.
“We just did.” Finally having my temper under control, I start toward Luce’s bedroom, then stop and turn back. “Listen, you piece of shit. I don’t care what happened in the past. Actually, that’s not true. I do care—a lot—about what you did to Luce.”
Karl tries to look defiant, but it’s hard to do when you’re lying bloodied on the floor.
I exhale harshly. “Next time you see my wife, you won’t even meet her eye. You’re going to keep your head down and you’re going to apologize.”
“Wh-why?”
“Because if you don’t, you’re going to spend the rest of your life being fed through a straw.”
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