Page 18 of Filthy Promises

He doesn’t get to choose anymore.

And yet…and yet…That calm voice of reason in the back of my head is crooning that there are alternative solutions.

Why batter down a castle wall when I could simply sneak in the back?

Why fight when I could simplywininstead?

What if I give him what he wants? Let him pull the wool over his own eyes. He’s headed for the pasture anyway—what difference does it make how he gets there?

Consider it a retirement gift. And if the idea I have in mind pans out… Well, it’d be a gift of sorts to myself as well.

“What if I already have something in the works?” I say carefully.

Father’s eyebrows rise. “You’ve waited this long to tell me?”

“It’s… early days.”

I down another sip of vodka as the plan takes shape. An hourglass shape, to be specific. A curvy, innocent, blushing, pencil-skirted shape that saidOhwhen I caught her standing in my doorway.

Father is still hesitant. “Is she Russian?”

“No.”

“Wealthy?”

“No.”

His lips purse with disapproval. “From a good family, at least?”

I think of Rowan’s file. Her mother’s illness.

“She’s strong,” I say instead. “Resilient.”

Father strokes his beard, eyes narrowing in calculation. In the end, he simply sighs. “You have seven months, Vince. I suggest you don’t waste them. The terms won’t change.”

I nod and leave.

But as I emerge into the hall, I feel lighter than I did when I entered. What started as a game—a passing interest in a wide-eyed lamb who wandered into the wrong room at the wrong time—has transformed into something entirely more strategic.

Rowan St. Clair, with her stack of medical bills and quiet desperation, might be exactly what I need.

I picture her entering my office again, this time with the proper invitation. Those doe eyes gazing up at me. Her soft mouth forming anotherOhwhen I explain my proposition.

What would she say if I offered to clear her mother’s medical debt? To give her a life beyond this corporate purgatory?

What would she do for that kind of freedom?

For the first time in months, I find myself actually looking forward to tomorrow. To seeing the shock on her face when she hears what I have to say.

Because Rowan St. Clair isn’t just next in line for a quick fuck on my desk.

She’s next in line to become my wife.

6

ROWAN

My heart is doing its damndest to jailbreak through my throat as I ride the elevator up to Vince’s floor.

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