Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
My face pulled back and down in a way I didn’t imagine was very flattering. “Wow. Thank you? I think? How could anyone say no?” He rolled his eyes, his annoyance increasing my shock and reigniting my irritation and sarcasm. “So, you’re going to lie to him instead of staying true to your promise? Sounds super moral.”
His jaw clenched and his eyes turned black, almost masking the flare of emotion I’d never seen from him before. Pain.
I expected it to vanish as soon as it appeared, but the bleakness lingered, dulling the usual sharpness of his stare. My irritation skidded to a halt, and I braced myself for his response.
“He’s dying,” he stated bluntly. “I thought I had more time, but his illness is quick. I could make excuses, but I won’t. Even if I have to lie to make him happy, I will.”
Breath stuttered in my lungs, and I looked at him. I set aside the anxious energy that fueled me to this point and really looked at him. I looked beyond the aloof arrogance I always noticed first in him.
He might have leaned back, but his shoulders tensed toward his ears. He might have spread his arms wide, but his fists clenched tight. He might have smirked, but it didn’t reach the tightness around his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t as put together and calm as I assumed, and something about that realization pushed me to stop and take it all in before dismissing his absurd idea completely.
“So…what? I marry you and…what?” I struggled to put the pieces together, the stress of the day and doubts wearing me down.
“Marry me, and I’ll make sure you get your majority, and this company stays Quinn Music Group.”
“I can do that on my own,” I scoffed, pushing for a confidence I didn’t quite have.
“You might.” He shrugged, masking the flash of raw emotion from moments before. Slipping into his usual persona of a careless asshole. “You probably won’t. With inflation and market costs, the amount of that five percent will increase beyond your reach. While I could buy it ten times over right now if I wanted to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I’ve done this long enough to know with certainty the minimal percent chance of your success.”
His casual confidence annoyed me, pricking at my pride. “You can’t know that. You may know a market, but you don’t know me—my determination and ability. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“Maybe.” He gave another goddamn shrug before turning his hard, business shark eyes level on mine. “But here’s the thing, Aspen. Are you willing to bet on it? Are you willing to bet your family company—the name and everything—on your minimal experience?”
I growled and hesitated. I knew my determination, but life had a way of throwing curve balls, and the mere chance of failing left me hesitating. “How do I know you’ll keep your word? I mean, you’re not even honest with your family. That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence.”
A muscle ticked along his jaw, another slip of emotion, but I couldn’t focus on that when he easily pushed me back to snapping. “We will prepare a contract and prenup that clearly outlines our agreement.”
“I’ve seen your contracts,” I grumbled.
“This will not be the same. It will be legally binding and hold each of us to our side of our agreement.”
“The agreement that I marry you?”
“Yes.”
He made saying yes sound so easy, but I stood there, frozen. The word lodged in my throat behind a million what-ifs while my mind screamed at me to say no because this was insane.
Wasn’t it?
Yet, somehow, neither answer managed to come out.
Taking a deep breath, I turned away, running my hand through my hair. “I…I can’t just give you an answer.”
“Sure, you can,” he objected.
I choked back a laugh because no, I couldn’t. I even opened my mouth and tried to say no, but the word halted in my throat. Then, I tried yes, but the same tightness held it back.
“I need time to think it over,” I said, attempting to infuse a false confidence in my tone.
When I turned back, he watched me with a bored stare.
How? How did he look so calm while my insides twisted in chaos?
My mind tumbled round and round. A pulse thrummed against my temples, increasing the longer I stood there. I struggled to think with him watching me and started to feel like a butterfly pinned to a board while he used the sun and magnifying glass to fry me alive.
“Time isn’t a luxury I can offer, princess.”
“That’s too bad.” I raised my chin, refusing to back down. I wasn’t the only one this mattered to.
“Fine,” he bit out. “You have one week.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
Without another word, I collected my bag and left, because if I was ever going to be able to formulate a response, I would need every second of the next week.