Page 61 of The Billionaires' Gamble
Come to think of it, my money’s on menopause.
“Well, maybe if you were around more?—”
“Don’t put this on me.”
She clenches her hands at her sides, flexes them and takes a deep breath.
“Just talk to me. What’s going on?” I couldn’t care less at this point, but I’m buying time. I have zero doubts that King is looking for me. And Alex is probably back in the city. Dare I hopethat Gabe has cooled down enough to miss me? Would they even have the first clue where to look?
How can I send a signal?
The yacht my dad chartered the summer before I turned sixteen had an office. What level was that on?
Mother stares through the doors, and for the first time in a long time, I can see indecision in her.
One of the benefits of being known as an ice queen is that people think I’m not paying attention. They let down their guard, and tongues wag. It normally doesn’t take much to get people talking about themselves or trying to impress me.
She, of course, is a tougher nut to crack. I can’t remember the last time she wasn’t steamrolling through life. She presses her lips together. So stubborn. I guess we both got that from her father. Which is an important lesson in itself. I have to be flexible to get what I really want.
“Can’t you just do what I ask?”
“Apparently not.”
She steps closer, and my stomach clenches. “Go inside and marry Tyler. This isn’t up for debate.”
“Of course it’s not. Just like participating in the auction wasn’t up for debate. My choice of college, my major. Every decision I’ve made has been your choice.”
She sneers. “Is your life really that bad? Boo-hoo. The little princess is locked in her ivory tower. Grow up, Katherine.”
“I did,” I bite out, losing my grip on my temper. “I grew up way too young, taking care of your son.”
“Oh, spare me.” She stalks away, heels echoing across the smooth teak boards.
I glance over at the two men on either side of the pool. They’re watching us with disinterest. How many more of them are there? And where is the crew? I’d expect at least a staff of twenty for a boat this size.
Did she pay everyone to turn the other way?
We’re straying from the point. I’ve got to convince her to drop this and find a way to get on that chopper and get far away from here. From her.
“Put me on the chopper,” I say. “I’ll be out of your life forever.”
Her jaw drops and her lips part. “That’s not what I want.”
Of course not. She wants a clone. A younger version of her. She might have been willing to marry anyone at her father’s command, but I’m not. The idea makes my stomach roll.
But even that doesn’t seem quite right. She’s always wanted a yes man. Someone who’ll do whatever it takes to cement the Chanler empire. That was, no doubt, Tyler’s appeal.
That ship has sailed.
“I had my attorney look over the document, actually. There’s nothing in there about who I have to marry.”
“Of course not. But he’s the best option. Now let’s go get this done.”
This.
As if my wedding is an item to be checked off on a to-do list.
I’m not sure which is worse: this strategic but lackluster and highly illegal situation that feels like a shotgun wedding, or the momzilla-of-the-bride I’d expected her to be my whole life.
