Page 6 of Wicked God
“This has to work,” I whisper to myself. “It just has to.”
For my little sister, I’ll charm every man in that room if I have to.
Chapter 3
Alexander
It’s laughable, really, to even think about marriage when I’m not even in a relationship. And yet, here I am.
I pace the length of my new office, the thick carpet muffling my steps. The city stretches out beyond the wide window, shifting from day to night, skyscrapers flickering to life one by one.
From up here, everything looks orderly. Contained. Unlike the mess my father dumped in my lap.
The irony doesn’t escape me. I’ve spent the last five years building other companies from the ground up, proving I’m more than just Senator Hawthorne’s son. I’ve closed deals worth hundreds of millions, expanded our reach across three continents, and earned a reputation for being the coldest bastard in every room.
But I can’t negotiate my way out of this.
Cameron’s voice breaks the silence. “Man, you look like you’re about to storm a castle.” He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrow cocked. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
Cameron Reed has been my closest friend since our time at Harvard, and he’s one of the few people who can read me like an open book. He’s relaxed, almost amused by my agitation.
“Maybe I am.” I yank my tie loose. “At least storming a castle would make sense. This is a goddamn political minefield.”
The sun dips behind the skyline, orange light spilling across the office. Most people have gone home. Only the die-hard workaholics like me and Cameron remain.
He drops into a chair, fixing me with those sharp brown eyes. “Tell him you’re not going to do it.”
“You overestimate my power to control how things work around here,” I reply with a sigh, my eyes scanning the paperwork on my desk but unable to focus on it. My mind is consumed with thoughts of my impending demise. I release a deep breath and rest my elbows on the desk.
“No, I don’t. Sometimes you have to stand your ground, Alex. Especially when it comes to something you don’t want.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Indeed, it is,” Cameron agrees and tosses a piece of paper onto the desk in front of me. “But that doesn’t mean you should disregard my advice. You know I’m not one to meddle in your affairs without reason. Just because something is expected of you doesn’t mean you must follow through.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “I don’t have a choice. It’s not just about me. It’s about the company, the family…”
“Stop making excuses. You always have a choice. Find someone who actually makes you happy, not just someone who ticks a box on a contract.”
With a sigh, I rub my forehead, the beginnings of a headache pressing behind my eyes. I know he’s right. It’s absurd, this idea that my father can hand-pick a wife for me. But in my family, it’s expected. Required, even.
“Have you met my father? His word is law, and if I told him I don’t want this marriage, he’d disown me on the spot.”
“Then you’ll have to change his mind.” Cameron shrugs, infuriatingly calm. “He’ll be pissed, yeah, but he loves you. He wants what’s best for you.”
That’s the problem. My father truly believes this marriage is the best thing for me. He’s obsessed with the idea of cementing our family’s legacy, marrying power to power, money to money. It’s led to an endless parade of would-be brides, each more insipid than the last.
Last month alone, he introduced me to three daughters of political allies. All of them beautiful, all of them calculating. The whole thing feels like a livestock auction, except I’m both the prize and the unwilling participant.
And then there was the secretary. My new hire turned out to be an heiress from some ancient Scottish banking clan. She was useless at her job and even worse at hiding her intentions. Lazy, incompetent, always batting her eyelashes at me like I’d fall for that.
My father is delusional if he thinks any of these women are right for me. Judging by her track record, marrying someone like her would be the fastest way to lose my fortune—and my sanity.
I love my father. But I refuse to let him destroy my life for the sake of appearances and this outdated belief that marriage will fix everything.
“I’m not marrying anyone. Not yet. It’s only a temporary inconvenience while I figure out how to get out of this mess.”
Cameron plucks a stress ball from my desk, tossing it up and catching it one-handed. “What about that Carter girl? Tiffany, wasn’t it? Your father seemed pretty thrilled about that one.”
