Page 3 of LA King

Piece of shit. Alana might covet the lifestyle this arrangement will provide her, at least according to her father, but I suspect she has no idea he literally sold her to me. Perhaps she deserves to know what kind of man he is, but that’s not my problem. She agreed to the terms of this fucked-up arrangement, and that’s all I’m interested in. “The ink is barely dry on the marriage certificate, Carmichael.”

“But there is a certificate,” he says. “I delivered as promised. The Montoya–Carmichael dynasty has begun.”

The fuck it has. Three years is enough for me to build a solid, legitimate footing using the political clout of their family name, and then his daughter and I will divorce amicably. She will get a massive payout to keep her in the lifestyle she’s accustomed to, and I will be a free man. There’ll be no such dynasty. “The money will be deposited within the next hour,” I assure him.

Nine million tax-free, untraceable dollars to an offshore account for the use of the Carmichael name; three million for every year. It’s pocket change for my family. But for him, a man whose campaign money is heavily audited after his little run-in with the Feds for tax evasion—a run-in my father helped him out with—it’s a lifeline.

“Good to know. Take care of my little princess now, won’t you?” he says, his voice dripping with fake concern. Like he gives a single fuck about her.

“She’ll be taken care of. Plenty of shopping sprees and a Bel Air mansion is all she needs though, right?” I remind him of what he told me. I’m not fool enough to miss that most of the women who want to date me have one eye on my money. Another reason I stick to casual hookups. “And I’m sure the twenty million payout she’ll get if she stays the three years will also sweeten the deal.”

He hums. “Well, she doesn’t actually know about the divorce settlement yet. Best to keep that between you and me for now.”

Why does that not surprise me? “Like we’re keeping the nine million dollars I’m paying for her between us?”

“Like I already told you, Alejandro, my Alana is a simple creature. Buy her pretty things and give her plenty of praise, and she will behave herself accordingly.” He’s confirmed my suspicion that she doesn’t know about that at least.

My cell beeps to signal I have another call. After confirming it’s my father, I end the conversation with Carmichael and answer him.

His deep voice fills my ear. “How are you feeling, mi hijo?”

“I’m good, Papá.”

Today is all about him really. All about the Montoya family name and the legacy he wants to leave behind. If it had been up to him, he would have prepared a traditional wedding, but I told him it was this way or nothing.

“I know that this isn’t …” He clears his throat, sounding lost for words for the first time in my life, at least as far as I can remember.

“Leave it, Papá,” I say with a heavy sigh. “It is what it is.”

“She is a good woman, mi hijo. She will bear you beautiful children.”

I don’t bother telling him I don’t want children. It would be like hitting my head against a wall. “Her father is a fucking snake.”

He makes a noise of agreement. “But he is also an asset to us. Marrying into his family gives us the credibility we have been lacking. It opens doors in business usually nailed shut for men like us.”

“He’s lying to her about this arrangement.” And I suspect not just about the money I paid him either. I don’t know what the lie is, but he’s a duplicitous prick, and I know he’s hiding something. What kind of man willingly hands his own daughter over to a devil like me?

“But in this case, perhaps the lie is no worse than the truth. Perhaps he is simply shielding her from the truth that you have no desire to be married to her.”

“I doubt he would be so caring of her feelings. No, it feels like something else.” It was the way she gazed at him so adoringly when he handed her over to me, like the sun shone out of his ass, and like she was silently pleading with him not to give her away. Which, technically, he didn’t. He fucking sold her. Perhaps if I hadn’t been in such a rush to get the whole charade over with, I would have questioned it a little more. “I think he’s manipulating her somehow.”

“Well, one day, when you are sure where her loyalties lie, you can discover the truth together.”

“I can’t see there ever being such a day, Papá.”

His sigh and the silence that follows are filled with disappointment. I have no doubt he’s thinking about my mother right now, a woman with whom he shares everything. Well, almost everything. Her absence today was conspicuous but necessary. She has no idea this marriage is even happening. As her only child, I’m aware she might never forgive me, but I’d rather risk her disappointment than have been forced to go through the wedding with her watchful eyes on me. She’s always been able to see through me in a way nobody else ever could. If this is going to work and we’re going to sell it as an actual marriage, then my mom can’t be a part of it.

Fortunately, my father was in full agreement with me on that at least, and he sent her on a month-long cruise with my aunt.

“I’m sure there may come a day, no?” he finally says.

“Maybe,” I agree to end the conversation.

After we wrap up the call, I drop my head against the seat and close my eyes. Jax, always knowing what I need, remains silent for the rest of the journey while I replay this afternoon in my head.

A slick black limousine pulled up to the curb. One of my men opened the door, reached inside, and took her hand to help her out of the car. My eyes locked on his hand wrapped around hers. My chest tightened with possessiveness, born of nothing more than the fact that she was about to become my property.

As though sensing my eyes on him, he dropped her hand, and she stood tall, smoothing the fabric of her dress with her free hand, a small bouquet of white flowers in the other. I’ve seen pictures of Alana Carmichael, so her beauty came as no surprise to me. I live in LA, surrounded by hot women. But still, somehow, she was … unexpected. Her dress was nothing like I imagined it would be, not what I expected from a spoiled daddy’s girl. It was the plainest wedding dress I’ve ever seen. Despite its simplicity, she managed to make it look sophisticated and elegant.