Page 10 of When the Last One Falls
Though I had never planned on marrying for love, I had planned on marrying a woman of my own choosing, ensuring a relationship of mutual respect and understanding. I hadn’t lied when I’d said that I’d had every intention of honoring my vows when the time came, but that was before I was being manipulated into marrying someone that I didn’t even know. Oh, and I was being manipulated. Though the choice was ultimately mine, my father knew that I’d never let Ares Cormac get the upper hand on me. If anyone asked me how our rivalry had started, I wouldn’t be able to answer them. All I knew was that it existed and that it burned bright.
The same blue eyes that I saw every day in the mirror stared back at me. “I know you, Brantley,” my father said. “It would kill you to see Ares Cormac at the top of the food chain. He’d also be standing there with a woman like Keris Bishop at his side. Do not even try to tell me that it wouldn’t gall you to know that, not only did he have her money, but that he would also have her in his bed every night. That privilege alone might be worth marrying her for.”
“Careful, Dad,” I warned. “You’re starting to sound like a dirty pervert. Keris Bishop is the same age as your children. Plus, I’d hate to have to stomp you out for leering at my wife.”
Darius Kingston’s lips curved with victory. “Of course,” he said. “No offense intended, son.”
Ignoring him, I said, “I want a copy of the trust.”
“Of course,” he readily agreed.
“I’m also going to head to the island as soon as the minister pronounces us husband and wife. I want to see what we’re dealing with,” I informed him.
“No wedding night?” he asked, and I knew that he was doing it just to goad me.
“What I do with my wife and when is none of your business,” I bit out.
“It is if we lose our ownership to the mines because you’re not fucking your wife,” he shot back. “Don’t forget, you need daughters to keep control of those mines.”
“Mind your own fucking business,” I warned, standing up. “You might have arranged this little business deal, but once Saturday comes and goes, you’d better stay out of my marriage.”
My father stood up as well. “You better show up to the house on Saturday, Brantley.”
“Oh, I’ll be there,” I assured him. “But you better watch yourself when it comes to Keris Bishop, Dad. Whether I love her or not, she’ll be my wife. Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself.”
“Keris Kingston,” he corrected. “You better get used to calling her Keris Kingston, son.”
“Get out,” I growled.
Nothing more was said as he walked out of my office, knowing his way out of my house. There was no sense in walking him out when all I wanted to do was kill him.
After a few minutes, I grabbed a bottle of brandy, then called Onyx and Magnus.
Chapter 7
Keris~
Three days hadn’t been nearly enough to come up with a health care plan for Lindsey. I had even toyed with asking Faron to give her a job, so that she could collect health insurance through Impressions, but I quickly nixed that idea when I realized how unfair it’d be of me to ask Faron to foot the bill for something that wasn’t his problem.
So, after hours and hours of talking to different health care providers, medical program directors, etc., I hadn’t come up with anything that would keep Lindsey receiving the quality care that she was getting. If I’d had more time, then maybe I could have found some sort of solution, but I hadn’t been granted any extra time. I had, however, received a text from my father yesterday to remind me of what was at stake if I didn’t show up at the Kingston home this morning.
When I’d gotten here, I’d been ushered in by my parents, quickly escorting me to one of the sitting rooms that made up the incredible residence. I had walked into see Darius and Lorna Kingston standing near an alcove that led to a library of some sort, and Brantley Kingston had been standing next to a man that I presumed was the minister. No one else was in attendance, but then why would they be?
The biggest problem about my marriage to Brantley Kingston was that he was absolutely hotter than the sun. Standing well over six-foot, he had black hair, blue eyes, long lashes, a classically masculine face, broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and strong legs. He was dressed in a suit, but I’d bet my next paycheck that the man had a six-pack underneath the expensive fabric. Brantley Kingston looked like the type of man that could hold you up and fuck you in a moving elevator, and you’d let him.
I walked over to introduce myself, but as soon as I was within a couple of feet of him, he turned towards the minister and said, “You can start now.”
Not sure of what to do, I pasted on a fake smile for the minister’s sake, then turned and faced him. Brantley was standing next to me with his hands in the pockets of his slacks and nervousness had me clasping my hands in front of me.
When the minister got to the part about the rings, Brantley’s mother presented a small, delicate, satin pillow with two ring boxes sitting atop. I watched Brantley grab the box with his ring in it, and instead of allowing me to slide the ring on his finger, he put it on himself. When he made no move to put the other ring on my finger, I quickly repeated his actions, humiliation coloring my face.
What a fucking asshole.
I kept having to remind myself that this wasn’t a wedding. This wasn’t a marriage forged from love and respect. This was a business transaction, and it was hard to keep the contents of my stomach from coming up the further along that the minister got.
Things only became more awkward when the minister pronounced us as husband and wife, and when he gave Brantley permission to kiss his bride, ignoring me, Brantley stuck his arm out to shake the minister’s hand. “Thank you. We appreciate your time,” he said.
I stood there like a fool as Brantley walked off, heading towards…well, I had no idea. However, my humiliation was complete when the minister touched my shoulder, pity in his kind brown eyes.
