Page 50 of Resist

Paige’s face is bright red, her hand is curled around the handle of her knife, knuckles white, and if I’m right, Slade’s about three seconds away from having his jugular severed by a fucking butter knife. Talia pats her arm, and Paige drops the weapon.

I think everyone at the table takes a collective breath of relief, myself included.

Corabelle sighs, seemingly clueless to the mounting tension around the table. “This isn’t a joke you guys. I know you’re trying to help, but this is my life, my father’s legacy, my future.”

My heart flexes. I’m not a completely emotionless bastard. I have compassion, I feel for her, I do. But right now, my mission is important too.

“This will get you what you need. You’ll have a husband, your father’s company... I’ll even resign from acquisitions if that’s what you need. I’ll be your husband in name only, leave you the fuck alone in work, and we don’t have to see each other outside work if you don’t want to.”

She shakes her head, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “That won’t work. They’ll expect us to be at functions, seen together at Blackwell Publishing events. They’re a group of crotchety old guys, they’ll smell a rat if I say ‘oh hey I married this guy I really like’, and you’re never seen or heard from again.”

Jagger elbows me. “Sterling loves donning a suit, and events.”

I nod my thanks at his attempt at getting her on my side.

Adi calls Thor into the kitchen to help with serving the food, so he excuses himself. Given the daggers Paige and Slade are exchanging across the table, I’m not sure people leaving theroom is the smart play, but it’s their house, their breakables. Not my problem.

Corabelle stares into the flickering flames of the candles in the middle of the table. Thor and Adi have gone all out for our dinner party tonight, and until now, I’d barely noticed.

There’s a purple orchid centerpiece with wicker balls in the middle of the table that I’m now intently interested in, with the weight of Jagger and Talia’s stares heavy on my face.

For the first time since I arrived, I take in my surroundings on a slow breath. I’ve been so focused on getting Corabelle to agree that my idea is a solid one, that I hadn’t realized Adi and Thor had redecorated their dining room. It used to be black and white, but it’s now got a purple accent wall, and purple and silver decor around the room.

The lull in conversation brings the sound of a game being played in the living room, reminding me that Matty, their son, is in the house as well.

Does Corabelle want kids? Is that why she doesn’t want a loveless marriage?

It’s not something I’ve given a lot of thought to yet. In my twenties, I still felt like a fucking child myself. There’s no way in hell I was selfless enough to be a father to a fully dependent human being who couldn’t even wipe their own ass. Has that changed? Will that change? Maybe, but I’m not sure I’m the parental type.

I can’t figure out what’s holding her back. I’m giving her everything she needs to get what she wants. That’s not strictly true. I completely understand why she’s hesitating in legally committing to a person she’s only known for a week, but I thought she’d be a little more open to the idea. It’s just for a couple years. Then she gets what she wants, and we can— hopefully amicably—part ways.

There’s a silence around the table as we all kind of stare ateach other. Well, most of us stare, Paige is glowering at Slade so hard there’s a faint smell of burning in the air.

“Would you feel better if I asked you for money?” I need to fill the silence, distract people from their own shit before Paige hops the table and rips off Slade’s face. I have no idea what happened between the two of them.

They’ve always been so volatile, their chemistry so combustible, I can’t figure out why they don’t like each other. I always expected they’d get together... and yet, sitting here, the hate between them feels real, tangible, like a grenade with the pin pulled.

Corabelle shrugs. “I feel like I’m trapping you in a marriage of one-way convenience. There’s nothing convenient for you about being my husband for a couple of years.”

I snort. “I can think of much worse people to be married to.” Despite her family connection to a rapist, I mean it when I say it.

“Yeah, like Slade,” Paige growls.

He snorts. “Like you’re such a catch yourself.”

Talia hisses out a slow breath, making wide-eyes at Jagger who looks like he’s ready to intervene if someone flips the table over.

Cora’s eyes widen, too. “You barely know me, Sterling.” Her tone is severe. “I’m not an easy person to be with.” She sighs. “Hence being single in my thirties.”

“None of us are easy to be with,” Talia offers. “We all have our faults, Cora.” She reaches across the table and gives her hand a squeeze. “You don’t get to decide that you’re too much for someone.” She glances up at Jagger, her face reddening. “Your partner does. And no matter how much you are, there’s someone out there who can not only handle it, but who wants to.”

She retracts her hand. “And sometimes people do things because they want to. If Sterling really doesn’t mind beingmarried to you for a couple of years, if he knows the expectations that will be on him, and he still consents...” Talia shrugs. “Isn’t that the core of our whole lifestyle? Informed consent? He knows the risks, he’s fully present mentally, and he still says okay. Maybe you should just... I don’t know.” She pauses like she’s searching for words. “Let him?”

Jagger caresses Talia’s face. “Good point, well made, Half-pint.” He looks at her with such admiration, such affection that it’s hard to believe he’s the same grumpy fucker who used to grunt or stay quiet, skulking in the corner.

Adi brings a tray of food into the living room for Matty, asking him if he wants to join us in the dining room, while Thor brings plates to the table.

“I’ll help.” I jump up, taking the opportunity to catch my breath for a beat in the kitchen as I collect a couple of plates heaped with some form of chicken pasta dish. It smells incredible, but the heat in the kitchen is stifling.

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