Page 6 of Legacy of Deception

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what I’ll accept.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

I gripped the back of the chair I had previously been occupying, tightening on it as I looked him dead in the eye. “I’m not asking. I’m demanding it.” An image of her honey-blonde hair and brown eyes darted across my mind. I could have thought of worse women to be stuck with.

“Demanding? No, no, no, no. You don’t have the upper hand for that.” His glance swiveled around the room before landing back on me. “Raf came to me with his counteroffer, and I accepted. Paperwork has already been drawn up. It’s a done deal. If you don’t accept, you’ll have no legacy. You’ll have the name Deluca, but it won’t get you very far. You’ll be blackballed. No titan in the industry, or any other industry for that matter, will want to do business with someone with your…work history.”

Knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere, I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “You seem to have it all figured out.” He liked to use what he knew about a person to predict their next move, so he was going to be tragically disappointed when mine proved to be nothing he expected.

“Oh, my son, I wish you could understand I’m doing this for you.” Those were the words that spewed out of his mouth like hot venom, but his icy glare threatened to give me hypothermia.

“Seems inaccurate, but most everything about this meeting is more twisted than the knife in my back.” Out of all the things I had done for him, thinking that it would actually be for a worthy reason one day, this was quite possibly the most vicious request he had put on me. Everything we did was in the name of family. We had a Deluca motto, for Christ’s sake, and still, I didn’t think his heart thudded in the same way the rest of ours did. Black like tar, cold like an iceberg, indestructible…we had yet to see it.

He cleared his throat. “Brooklyn will be your wife. She will be helping her family, doing what’s best for them, and you will be securing your place here to one day be at the helm. In the meantime, you have much to learn.”

Although my body felt frozen, I didn’t want to be in his presence any longer, so I turned and walked to the door. “Well, this has certainly been eventful,” I said, clapping my hand against my other fisted one. “We should schedule a coffee klatch or something next time. For now, though, I’ve got shit to do.” Meanwhile, I had nothing more to do than usual, overseeing the seamstresses who called themselves artisans whose sole jobs were to design nonsense for a lifestyle brand we had acquired. I spent most of my time with old broads and their needles, and my father had been right in saying my current job description wouldn’t do me much good on a résumé.

He’d all but seen to it.

In just the same way he’d seen to it that this company was his essence. He would be nothing without it.

Something that would come to pass when I was done with him.

“Oh, Marco.” Brooklyn’s voice cut through my thoughts like shards of glass before I turned around and met her stare. “I’m looking for my fiancé.”

Loud. High-pitched. Vibrating.

There was an undertone of remarkable defiance in her statement, but I think we both knew it wouldn’t do any good. She was still going through with it, and I was still going to try to get out of it. Although, she didn’t need to be privy to that minor detail.

Her downturned lips formed into a demure smile that was as out of place as plaid was on me during the winter.

Raising a brow, I gave her a slow once-over, albeit unnecessary, considering my mind teemed with images of her, ones that were practically inked there. I didn’t give it much thought on a regular basis, but now that I was confronted with my new reality, I couldn’t help but admit she was luminous, radiant.

She was slim but muscular, her arms toned beneath her long-sleeve top, probably from the weight classes she took with Capri. Then again, it wasn’t something she did on a strict schedule, more so whenever she pleased. Her interests tended to vary with her hidden agenda. It seemed conniving was of latest interest, so it was no surprise that she was dressed the part.

Everything about Brooklyn exuded high society, like that of a woman who had a membership at a country club. With that handbag, it was obvious she was all about appearances. Just as most things were for the Briggs family. Not that I was in any position to judge. The Delucas did the same thing, and I often followed suit.

“Hellooo? I’m here to meet my fiancé,” she repeated, as if I had hearing problems.

Studying her closely, I tucked my hands into my pockets. “Have you tried speed dating or any apps? I hear they have moderately good success rates.”

Her mouth quirked up in the most divine sadistic smile that only made her cheekbones more prominent. It would’ve been disturbing if this was the first time I was witnessing the way it matched the other excellent curves and bends of her delicate body.

I’d be pretending to be engaged to her.

I’d be pretending to be going through with the marriage.

But there was no pretending when it came to being drawn to her.

“So, it’s you,” she finally said, acknowledging our fate in the flattest tone of voice I think I might’ve ever heard come from a woman.

Perhaps she could’ve mustered up a tad bit more excitement.

After all, we were about to violate everything vows stood for, building ours on coercion, toxicity, and an ignorant alliance. My favorite type of sin—one I was being forced into committing.

“Best if we take this conversation into my office.” Hooking my pointer finger, I showed her the direction, and we walked in silence.