IMOGEN'S POV
I stepped out of the door and was immediately enveloped in a refreshing breeze that carried with it the scent of freshly cut grass—a stark contrast from the stuffy, stifling air inside my house.
It was a welcome relief.
I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air filling my lungs, and closed my eyes for a moment to savor the sensation as I collected myself.
When I opened my eyes, I stood straight, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease. I stretched my arms out to my sides before running my fingers through my hair to smooth down any stray strands that would make me look disheveled.
With a determined stride, I made my way towards the gate where the gateman stood waiting. His familiar nod signaled the opening of the gates, and I offered a curt nod of gratitude before stepping onto the street.
The bustling city greeted me with its usual chaos, but I was focused on one thing: getting to the Portland informant. I raised my hand, flagging down a passing taxi with practiced ease.
"Where to?" The driver asked.
"The Portland informant," I replied.
Ten minutes into the ride, I arrived at the Portland Informant newspaper company with the taxi pulling up to the curb.
With a quick exchange of cash, I thanked the driver and stepped out onto the bustling street. Towering above me was the giant building. The Portland informant. Its imposing stricture casting a shadow over the sidewalk.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and steeled myself for what was to come. Sure, doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve, but I pushed it aside. There was no turning back now.
Approaching the front entrance, I couldn't help but feel a new rush of apprehension. Was I truly ready for this?
"This is no time for hesitation," I whispered to myself.
With that mantra fueling my steps, I crossed the threshold and entered the lobby.
The receptionist looked up as I approached, and I met her gaze with a firm nod.
"I need to see your boss, Isaac Rossi," I stated, my voice steady despite the nerves that
swallowed me whole.
The receptionist raised an eyebrow. Her eyes seemed to widen with recognition, and I wouldn't be surprised if she knew who I was. Isaac's article had made me a celebrity overnight.
"Do you have an appointment?" She asked.
"No,'" I replied, honest as I could be. "But he'll want to see me. Tell him it's Imogen. His sister in law."
She didn't question my request. Instead, she picked up the phone and made a quick call to Isaac.
"Mr. Rossi," she began. "There is a woman here to see you. She says she is Imogen. Your sister in law."
The receptionist seemed to nod in silence numerous times before she ended the call by placing the phone back in place.
"Please sit," she told me. "He will be with you shortly."
I nodded and did as she asked. I sat down. The minutes stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity.
Finally, the receptionist motioned for me to proceed, and I followed her direction, making my way through the maze of doors toward Isaac Rossi's office.
The door loomed before me, a barrier between rationality and the madness I was about to toss myself in.
Was all of these really worth it for a man like Elijah?
Hearing his name seemed to do the trick. That anger found me again, begging to be obeyed, and I needed its words.
Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and knocked, the sound echoing in the empty hallway.
"Come in," Isaac said, his voice sounding like silk, teasing the itch in my ear.
One turn at the knob, and the door cracked open.
I took in a deep breath and took my first step in, shutting the door behind me.
I was met with an air of sophistication. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with law books, and various legal accolades adorned his desk.
Isaac sat behind it, his gaze fixed on a computer screen, seemingly engrossed in work.
He looked up as I approached, and his expression transformed from one of concentration to one of surprise.
"Sister-in-law," he chuckled, his tone hinting at disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
I took a deep breath before speaking. "I need your help, Isaac. It's about Elijah."
Isaac's eyes darkened at the mention of his brother's name. He leaned back in his chair, studying me intently.
"What about him?" he asked, his tone cautious.
"I do not intend to play mind games," I told him, walking over to his table and taking a seat. "I can admit my faults. You were right. Elijah was using me to keep his inheritance."
"What has that got to do with me, sister-in-law?" He chuckled again. "Do you want to take my hand now that you have helped Elijah to damage the credibility of my newspaper? I offered you a chance to take your freedom, and you threw it in my face. Enjoy life as a married woman. My brother will make soft work of you."
I scoffed. "Forgive me for not wanting to be used without my permission."
"The audience was supporting you, Imogen." He almost yelled back. "I had no intention of throwing you under the bus alongside my brother. But here you are, still aligning with the very person who used you. I warned you about Elijah's intentions, but you chose to ignore me. And now you come to me, asking for help regarding him?"
I lowered my gaze, feeling a mix of shame and regret for not seeing the many red flags earlier. "I know I made a mistake, Isaac. I was blind to Elijah's manipulations, but I see them now. I'm here because I want revenge."
Isaac's expression softened slightly as he observed me. "And I am the man that comes to mind? Elijah won't easily let go of his hold on you, especially now that his plans are falling apart. Not to mention that another article regarding you will only cause the legitimacy of my paper to crumble."
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding. "I do not need you to write another exposé. The revenge I want is pretty simple. I want you, Isaac."
Isaac's eyes widened in surprise, and he took a step back, clearly caught off guard by my unexpected declaration. "Me? What do you mean you want me?" he asked.
I closed the distance between us, my gaze steady as I locked eyes with him. "After discovering that your brother trapped me in this union, I was willing to live an unhappy marriage life. The Rossi name was still burning bright. Prestige and money were enough. As long as I got to keep doing my duties. Then, your brother threw me two of the biggest insults. He assaulted me, and he brought his mistress home to fuck, telling me our marriage was now open season."
Isaac remained silent for a moment, seemingly processing my words. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I must admit, I never expected this from you. You want to fuck me to get back at Elijah. Isn't that kind of dumb?"
Now, I chuckled. "Now, who said I wanted to fuck you, brother-in-law?"
Isaac's smile faltered, replaced by a look of confusion. "Then what do you want from me?" he asked, his tone uncertain.
I took a step closer, my voice low and determined. "I want you because you are a man. My husband claims to be uninterested in me. So much so that he is suggesting that I fuck whoever I need to fuck so he can keep playing house with his mistress. I wonder how long he would last when he finds out the man I am sleeping with his stepbrother."
I thought I had him. He seemed to be buried in thoughts of his own, which meant that he was considering it.
His following words hit me like a sucker punch.
"I refuse."
ELIJAH'S POV
Why was I bothered? I wondered as I went to the fridge to get a bottle of water.
Twisting off the cover, I imagined Imogen in that dress again.
When she agreed to my deal, I would be honest: I believed she had done it because she had realized that she had no choice. But now that I thought about it, had Imogen had men after her?
If she had men vying for her affection, why had she been so angry? Why had she acted like I had betrayed her when she was doing the same thing?
"What are you thinking about?" Deborah asked, wrapping her hands around my torso.
"Nothing," I lied. Knowing Deborah, she would probably read it as something else. But the thought bothered me so much. So I had to ask.
"Do you think Imogen is seeing another man?" I questioned.
Deborah was a woman herself. She would know. Right?
"Why should I care?" Deborah chuckled, guiding my face so I could meet her gaze. She then brought my mouth to hers in a short and passionate kiss. When she broke it, she looked into my eyes as if trying to read the very depths of my soul. "Is that not good for us? If she does have another man. Then I can keep coming. You don't have to feel guilty. Maybe this union can actually work while we wait for your controlling Dad to kick the bucket."
I nodded. She was right. "Yeah." I mused. "It is a good thing. I just thought she was bluffing when she said she had a side piece, too."
I gathered myself and broke away from Deborah. "But you cannot keep coming," I told her. "I only agreed to this because you wouldn't stop guilt-tripping. I'm sure I have proven how committed I am to you. I sure did not appreciate you egging Imogen."
Deborah looked offended. "What did I do? I woke up patched. So I came to the kitchen to get a drink. I didn't expect to bump into her."
"You could have walked away in silence." I retorted, taking a sip of the water and swishing it in my mouth before swallowing. "Imogen is unpredictable. She is also my legal wife. Trying to infuriate her to soothe your rage will be temporary, but one word from her, one snap, and I could be left destitute by my father. You wouldn't want that, would you?"
Deborah's shoulder slumped. "Of course not," she said, almost rolling her eyes. "Your inheritance is the most important thing."
"It is." I reiterated. Love was never enough. Deboarha could roll her eyes all she wanted. But my family name and the financial security it came with were one of the reasons she was attracted to me. Not just personality or whatever lie most women were content with telling themselves.
I placed the bottle in my hand on the counter and looked outside. The sun was already peeking from the horizon. Soon, the reporters would come stalking. "You should get dressed, Deb. The reporters will soon be coming in swarms. The last thing I need right now is another rumor."
Deborah sighed, her frustration evident in the way she dragged herself across the kitchen. "Fine," she muttered, heading towards the stairs. "But don't think this is over. I am not just some mistress that you can call for a fuck session. I am worth more than that, Elijah."
I nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was inevitable. Imogen was a thorn in my side, a complication I couldn't afford. But Deborah was just as sharp. Now that I had gotten married, she had become even more prickly.
Women were difficult, honestly. I thought Deborah, of all people, would understand. Everything that I did, I did for her.
I watched Deborah disappear up the stairs, and somehow, it made me think of the whirlwind that Isaac had orchestrated.
I despised that bastard for what he had done. The morning would be another day of hiding from reporters: the blatant ones and the discreet ones who had practically become stalkers. I braced myself for the onslaught.
There had always been scandalous rumors surrounding my family. It had become a constant presence in our lives, but I was tired of the constant scrutiny.
I wanted a simple life, away from the clutches of my father. I knew I would however never have that with Imogen. She was not a woman that would surprise me.
I knew everything about her. Because that was just how my parents had wanted it. A lady bred the way they wanted it. Because I knew Imogen inside and out, I could never love her.
I wasn't even sure I ever did. My parents were just that good at manipulating me to believe that their ideas and perspectives were my own.
***
IMOGEN'S POV
Perhaps I had been overconfident. I didn't think Isaac Rossi would reject my proposition. But he had. So quick, too.
"You refuse?" I repeated.
"Yes, sister in law. I refuse." Isaac made it crystal clear. "You are mad, and understandably so. But I refused to be used by you when this would only benefit you. You intend to use me to make my brother jealous. This tells me that despite everything that he has done, you still hold love instead of resentment for him. After all he has done to you?"
"You are not wrong. I'm sure you think I am stupid for still having affection for my cheating husband, who put me through so much in just two days of being his wife. But I assure you, you have something to benefit from. I have seen the way your brother looks at you. He sees you as some sort of lesser being who does not deserve the air that he breathes. I'm sure he doesn't want you touching what belongs to him, and guess what," I proceeded to show him the ring on my finger. "I am his legal wife. He might not want me, but he still wouldn't want your hands on me. You know of his hate. Perhaps even better than me. Tell me I am wrong."
"You are surprisingly adept as you are foolish," Isaac commented. "My brother wouldn't want my filthy hands on what he believes belongs to him. But his inheritance and the affection of our father are the only things that Elijah holds in high regard. Sorry if this hurts your little feelings, but my brother has no love for you."
I scoffed. "Him having no love for me does not mean he would want you messing with me. You don't have to like a property to hoard it. I thought businessmen were supposed to take risks?"
"They are. It is not that I don't want to take risks. It might work. Knowing my brother, I am almost certain that it will work. But what happens when that false sense of affection from my brother creeps back in? Seeing how desperate you are to get him to see you, you will take his hand and leave me in the dust. Why would I venture into this deal knowing I would mostly end up at a loss?"
I paused, considering Isaac's words carefully. He wasn't wrong if I was doing this for love. If that was the case, my desperation to win back Elijah's affection could indeed lead me to discard Isaac once I achieved my goal. While I did want to provoke a sense of jealousy, I had no intention of keeping a cheating bastard. I just wanted to cut Elijah as deep as he cut me.
If divorce weren't on the table, his flesh would do.
"You make a compelling point." I nodded. "But I do not want to keep Elijah. I simply want him to suffer. Is that enough to convince you to take my hand?"
Isaac raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And what happens when Elijah inevitably realizes the truth? When he sees through your facade? If there is even one, as you claim."
"Then I will deal with the consequences," I replied defiantly. "But until then, I need to know, will you hold my hand?"
Isaac regarded me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll play along with your little game. But I have a demand of my own. That way, I can trust you."
"And what would that be?"
A smile crept up Isaac's mouth as he leaned close. "You say all you want is revenge, and my brother is now nothing to you. Why don't you kiss me to prove it?"