The glass elevator ascends to the apex of the illustrious headquarters of Vacheron Enterprises.
My stomach clenches, my pulse drumming beneath my skin. Dad stands ahead of us and my brothers flank me like bodyguards. My fingers dig into my palms so hard it begins to hurt. I release them and once I do. Silas loops his pinkie finger around mine, and Luciano does the same to my other hand—an instant bout of buoyancy, drawing solace from them both.
The elevator dings open. Dad squares his shoulders and walks out with me in tow, followed by my brothers. A receptionist stands ready in front of massive oak doors. She turns around to push them open, standing aside to grant us entry. Colton's office crowns his skyscraper. Instead of walls, it's just floor-to-ceiling windows that exhibit a god's eye view of the cityscape so far below. The view is breath-taking, a panoramic sweep of the bustling metropolis that seems to stretch on endlessly. Colton lounges at the head of the table, exuding an air of effortless power and control. His posture is relaxed, yet there's an undeniable authority in the way he reclines like he is positioned on a seat of power. Another man, younger, sits at his right-side. And a woman stands behind them with a folder in her grasp.
"Please, join us."
My father makes a power move and settles into a chair at the other head of the elongated table. Despite the audacious show of dominance, we follow suit. The room is charged with an undercurrent of tension, a palpable atmosphere steeped in the unspoken yet unmistakable weight of toxic masculinity.
Luciano takes the seat on his right side. I go left and Silas sits next to me. The division is clear, each opposing camp occupying either side of the table. The Vacherons faced against the Du Ponts. Colton fixes me with an unrelenting stare. Those malachite-green eyes—I have seen them before.
"I suppose starting with an introduction is most appropriate." He gestures proudly at the other man, unable to contain his smile. "This is my son, Vance."
Vance is just a younger version of his father. Both of them are devastatingly handsome, both fair-headed with light eyes. Vance's hair is groomed with precision, a bespoke bearing with imperial features. Vance's sculpted jaw and high cheekbones mirror those of his father, giving both men an aristocratic allure. Both of them are sporting deluxe, designer business suits. Tailored to perfection, accentuate their well-forged builds, the fabric gleaming subtly in the light. The very detail, from the sharp angles of their faces to the calculated set of their shoulders, reflects a shared heritage of privilege and influence.
Vance acknowledges us with a well-weighted look.
"Mayor Du Pont, an honour to make your acquaintance."
He trades terse nods with my brothers, and his eyes merely skim past mine.
"Allison."
She steps forward to be at Colton's side. Her flaming hair is striking against her pale skin.
"She is my head publicist and the woman that will be narrating the tale of your unrequited love."
Silas huffs and leans back into his seat stiffly. "Can't they just marry and call it a day?"
Allison's eyes explode as if he had just insulted her. "This is a delicate matter," she says with an urgent tone betrayed by her boisterous energy and her frivolous voice. "Everything about their union must be above reproach and ward off every hint of scepticism and scrutiny that they both will encounter. It needs to be believable, unquestionable, but most importantly. It must be real. The people will believe, if you believe."
Luciano and Silas share humoured looks, stifling their smiles.
"It really isn't a hard sale." She ambles around the table, her heels clicking until she's at the middle. And she stops to stare at Vance across from her, then at me. "The progeny of a prominent industrialist succumbs to the allure of the esteemed Mayor's daughter, precipitating a profound societal upheaval."
Colton's eyes are locked on me. For a moment, they flit to my father. "Tell them how you will do it."
She flips open the folder. "With a series of strategic dates and appearances at curated events, specially chosen to debut your relationship as a new power couple." She flicks through the pages. "Beginning with a slew of events: galas, charity balls and fundraisers as well as corporate summits and attending soirees hosted by the world-class gentry."
How romantic?
"I think it paints a wonderful picture. A union that garners goodwill. A community steward who marries into great wealth can do a lot of good."
That's not why I agreed to this! And for some reason, I can't find the nerve to declare that.
A forbidding look hardens Vance's face. And upon the meeting of his gaze with mine, his eyes appear burnished with a quality that evokes a fullness of fear. I free a long sigh, deflating under the insurmountable heft of my strange situation. I can already tell that he doesn't like me. Probably because he assumes I'm a gold-digger for agreeing to this madness.
"Allison will keep you apprised about how we will proceed from here," Colton begins. His voice shifts abruptly, the warmth draining from his tone as it sharpens into something cold and calculating. It's as if a mask has fallen away, revealing a steely edge beneath—a tenor that slices through the air, deliberate and unfeeling, with the precision of a blade. "Though I think a family assembly is in order. We can start small and you all can meet my youngest son, Landen."
My skin curdles at his name. The mere thought of having him in my life is a nauseating, earth-shattering reality check.
"That would be lovely," my dad says with a politician's smile. Decorum fashioned from mannerly obligation. It's impossible to tell when he's being sincere or not.
"Right, if you all don't mind. Mayor Du Pont and I have private matters to discuss."
Vance stands up on command, buttoning up his crisp blazer.
"If it's about—" Luciano's finger bounces between Vance and I "—their fake marriage. Shouldn't we listen in?"
Colton smiles, somehow patronizing. "Oh, believe me. It has nothing to do with that. But I don't mind—"
"No," my dad interrupts with a semi-annoyed look. "What we must discuss implores the utmost discretion. It has nothing to do with either of them." His eyes steal a glance at me. "But if there is anything you need to know, one of us will relay it."
"Now that we cleared that up," Allison says with a cheer in her voice. "I will be needing your personal contact information."
***
New Group Chat.
Allison: I'm so excited to be a part of this royal romance! Never mind how it was formed. We should start planning your first date, something for the tabloids to feed on. I was thinking about something swanky and elite befitting your status.
Vance: What about Black Night? It's populated with people of our caliber. And it's a classy way to introduce our courtship to the world.
Allison: It's also very formal and stiff—so it's very you, so it makes sense. It's reasonable for a first date. I'll allow it.
Allison: Avara, love, what do you think?
Me: It's very pragmatic.
Allison: It's very Vance.
Me: I heard about that place but don't we have to make a booking? I heard it takes months to even get on the waiting list.
Vance: Not when you own the place. Let's get this done Saturday night.
I lower the phone from my face and I move to sit upright. I speed dial Kels and after many long rings; it goes to voicemail. As I make my way out of my room, I abandon my phone on my bed. I descend to the ground floor to see all the lights in the living room reflecting on the white cedar floor. I come to the archway and I poke my head inside to see Luciano on the couch, buried under a stack of paperwork.
"You're still here?"
His eyes fly up, surprise teeming in them. "I have some bookkeeping to do."
"Which you normally do at your own apartment?"
He stammers, lifting a file off his lap. "Uh, well. The family house has better lighting here for some late night reading."
"Is that also why you've been sleeping in your old room?" I question, strolling inside with my arms crossed. And giving him a long, assessing look. "You've been staying here since dad broke the news about the marriage alliance. Along with the dangers of what would happen if I didn't comply."
He shrugs off my concern with fabricated nonchalance.
"I don't know what you're talking about. And what's with the interrogation?"
"I already have a bodyguard, remember? I don't need you to protect me."
"That's my job," he says with a raised voice, spurting to his feet. "Dad took an oath to this city. I took an oath to my family." A torrent of emotions passes through him, swelling in his eyes. "I made a promise to her that I'd take care of you—you and Silas. You guys are my responsibility. Burdened with glorious purpose."
A smile fights its way on my face at the Loki reference.
"I know you're mad—"
"I never said I was mad."
"And like most women, they never do," he says jokingly. He plasters on a no-nonsense expression. "You are mad and you have every right to be. He lied—I lied to you, and you'll never know how sorry I am about that."
"You were only doing what he told you to do." And that came out harsher than I intended.
"Everything he did was for his love of us and for the betterment of this city. He may have gotten lost along the way, but it doesn't change who he is and what he sought to do. You know that, right?"
I barely manage a nod. "I want to."
"Look on the bright side… the family will quit asking you when are you going to get a husband."
A laugh bursts from me. "One that is paying for my hand in marriage—no, not even. I was used as a bargaining chip."
"I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere."
Another laugh escapes me.
"So I see somebody isn't mad anymore," Silas says, waltzing inside with his hood drawn.
My face deadpans. "I was never—whatever."
"Since we're all up, we might as well Netflix and Chill."
Luciano and I freeze to gawk at him.
"Literally no one says that anymore," Luciano comments.
"Neither is this the right context to say that in," I add.
"You know what I meant," he says with a disturbed frown, reversing out of the living room. "I'm going to go make some popcorn."
"Some sibling bonding time," Luciano says whilst gathering the documents to dump them on the coffee table. "Something we'll have less time to do once you become a married woman."
"Fake married woman," I amend with animosity. "Once the alliance serves its purpose, I'm back to being your glorious burden."
Luciano chuckles, moving over to make space for me on the couch. "I don't know. Once he gets to know the real you… he'll never want to let you go."