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Insidious by Aleatha Romig (5)

 

 

 

“MISS CONWAY?”

Travis, the man who’d come to get me, had moved without my realizing it, walking toward an elevator. Hurriedly, I stepped to catch up to him, reaching him just as the doors opened. The control panel held only one button: PH, which I assumed meant penthouse. A million questions swirled through my mind, but from my limited experience, I didn’t believe that this driver would be the one with the answers.

Since I’d agreed to attend this meeting that my parents had arranged, I’d been given no more information. All I’d received was the outfit to wear with a note telling me that my presence was imperative for all of our futures.

Attempting to hide my uneasiness, I did my best to appear calm and stay quiet in the small, uncomfortable space as the elevator ascended toward our destination. When the doors opened, the most stunning view and exquisitely decorated living room was before me. The tall windows illuminated the room, overpowering the light-colored furnishings with the intense blue of the sky and sea.

“Thank you, Travis, I’ll take Miss Conway from here.”

I turned toward the woman’s voice. About my mother’s age with short blonde hair and soft blue eyes, she didn’t give me the same uncomfortable feeling I felt from Travis. Before I could speak, she reached for my hand. “Welcome, Miss Conway. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lisa. If I can be of any assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’m sorry, Lisa, where am I? Whom am I supposed to meet?”

Her eyes opened wide. “Miss Conway, you’re here to see Mr. Harrington. We’re in his Miami penthouse. Surely you recognize the city through the windows.”

My heartbeat approached a normal cadence with her honesty, and I glanced again toward the windows. “Yes, I recognize the city. I just didn’t know where in the city I’d been brought.”

Her expression softened as she asked, “Would you like to freshen up before seeing Mr. Harrington? If not, he is ready to see you.”

Lowering my voice, I asked, “Lisa, who is Mr. Harrington, and why does he want to see me?”

Concern danced across her expression. “Miss Conway, I’m not sure why you haven’t been informed. Perhaps it would be better for Mr. Harrington to explain.” She squeezed my hand. “After you speak with him, I’ll gladly help clarify anything I can for you.”

Uncertainty and apprehension twisted in my empty stomach. I was suddenly happy that I hadn’t eaten. Swallowing the growing lump in my throat, I squared my shoulders, and replied, “I believe I’m ready to see Mr. Harrington.”

“You look lovely, dear. Let me show you to his office.”

I followed as Lisa led me through the large white living room. Lush green plants and accents in the hue of blue complemented the tile floor and white leather furniture. With the color of the ocean outside of the windows, it all flowed together beautifully. The tile changed in shape as we approached a long hallway. I couldn’t help but wonder how big the penthouse was; however, before I could give it much thought, Lisa paused. Looking me in the eye, she whispered, “Harrington Spas and Suites, International. Perhaps you weren’t to know that yet, but I believe it would be beneficial for you to know whom you’re dealing with.”

Before I could respond, she turned away and knocked on the door. My mind was a blur. Of course I’d heard of Harrington Spas and Suites: it was one of the most exclusive hotel chains in the country, probably the world, since Lisa had said international. The main reason I knew about it was that my stepfather Randall’s medical practice had an exclusive contract with the Miami Harrington location. According to my mother, it was a very sought-after account. The fact that Randall had been involved in securing the partnership was an accomplishment that my mother felt the need to flaunt at one of our rare dinners.

I also remembered hearing something about Harrington Suites in one of my classes. The academy that I attended prided itself on its college-preparatory classes. An introduction to business was essential for the children of the elite. In one of those classes I recalled a discussion about transitions in business and the repercussions when a family-owned business was passed from one member to the next. As I recalled, Mr. Harrington’s father started the Harrington Suites a long time ago, but when he passed away, his son—the man behind the door—inherited the controlling shares of the company. He created an uproar by wanting to modernize the already successful chain. There was more than a little trepidation on the part of the board of directors. Nevertheless, the younger Mr. Harrington stuck to his guns and included spas in all of the facilities. From what I’d read, they were remarkable top-of-the-line spas.

As I heard the greeting of come in from behind the door, I tried to remember the news reports I’d seen and the biography I’d been required to read. Funny, at the time it didn’t seem important. Now, I’d give anything to have retained more. I did recall reading that the younger Mr. Harrington grew up with the world at his fingertips and had quite the reputation for living life to its fullest. I also thought I remembered that his wife passed away at a relatively young age. Nevertheless, by today’s standards, they’d been married for a while.

When the door opened, I stood dumbfounded. That was Mr. Harrington? I’d expected him to be older. It wasn’t that he was young, like me, but I was expecting ancient. He looked like he was perhaps forty, give or take a few years. He definitely looked younger than my parents, and my mother spent a lot of money and time with her plastic surgeon to look as young as she could. Immediately, his gaze went to me and a grin came to his lips. “Miss Conway, Victoria…” He extended his hand as he came around his desk. “…I’m so glad we were able to make this work.”

I took in his casual attire—jeans and white t-shirt—and suddenly felt overdressed. Though the heels gave me height, with each step he took toward me, I felt smaller and smaller. Next to him, my five-foot-six-inch frame was dwarfed. He had all the tell-tale signs of a man who lived in Miami, the sun-kissed skin and blonde hair.

Yet, all I could wonder was why on earth would this well-known business owner want to see me?

Slowly I accepted his hand and looked down. Instead of shaking mine as I’d expected, his grasp lingered. The warmth of his touch was in stark contrast to the cooled air within the penthouse suite. When I lifted my gaze, his deep-set blue eyes devoured me, as his grin broadened. My insides twisted again as the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. Unabashed by my obvious trepidation, he leaned back and scanned me up and down.

My discomfort grew with each passing second. With my hand still in his, I turned for help, looking for Lisa. Perhaps she’d show me some sign of support or reassurance. However, as I turned, all that I saw was the door as it closed, leaving me completely alone with this man I didn’t know. Summoning any strength I could find, I worked to articulate without fainting. “Mr. Harrington, I’m afraid I don’t know why I’m here.”

His mouth twitched as he cocked one brow. “Miss Conway, is it usual for you to frequent unknown places for unknown reasons?”

Was he amused by my discomfort?

Freeing my hand, I gripped my purse and squared my shoulders. “No, Mr. Harrington, it is not. As a matter of fact, I’m a bit uncomfortable. Please tell me what this is about or I will leave.”

“I believe you should hear me out.” He gestured toward me. “I mean, look at how beautiful you look. You’re all dressed up.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks.

He stepped back and casually leaned against his desk. “Let’s start with you calling me Stewart. Formalities seem unnecessary.”

Unconsciously, I closed my eyes and sucked in my lower lip. My body trembled with uneasiness as I tried to understand what was happening. Before I could speak, Stewart cupped my chin and lifted my eyes towards his.

His ease with touching me made me even more uncomfortable. I stepped back and replied, “Stewart, I don’t know—”

His tenor dropped. “Victoria, your parents and I have discussed an agreement to resolve a situation they seem to have gotten themselves into. I find it interesting that they apparently didn’t feel it was necessary to fill you in on your role.”

I did my best to remain stoic, mistakenly believing that I could no longer be surprised by my parents’ actions.

He continued, “They have arranged for you to settle their debt for them.”

Settle their debt? “I don’t know what you mean I don’t have money…”

My words trailed away as he once again secured my hand and led me to a sofa: one that I’d not even noticed until that moment. Once we were seated, he said, “Victoria, we are to wed.”

“What?!” I pulled my hand away. “I’m not marrying anyone. I haven’t even graduated from high school.” Stewart was almost as old as my parents. There was no way in hell I was marrying him or doing anything else with him.

Smirking, he went on, “I realize that wasn’t exactly a romantic proposal. I’ll be honest: I’m not looking for romance. You may or may not know that your family is a bit dysfunctional.”

Dysfunctional? He had no fucking idea.

Though my nerves were stretched to the point of fraying, I tried to quiet the hysteria in my mind, as I comprehended the idea that I could never have possibly foreseen this, or that once again, I underestimated my parents’ ability to ruin my life. Fighting my flight response, I gave Stewart Harrington my full attention and calmest voice. It was a trick I’d taught myself as a child, a way to appear calm to others when in reality all hell was breaking loose on the inside.

“Stewart, I’m eighteen. I don’t have to do anything my parents say. I make my own decisions.”

“Yes, you do. You won’t be forced to accept this arrangement, but before you decide, I recommend you hear the entire story.”

Fine, I’d hear him out. Years of private education and finishing school taught me manners. I’d hear him out, and then politely tell him to fuck off.

“Your stepfather has an affinity for gambling. He has made a few bad choices.”

Yes, like thinking that I’d ever be willing to sell myself to save his ass. The scenario was too obscene to comprehend. “I don’t really care what Randall has—”

“Victoria, don’t interrupt until the facts are out there.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded.

“As I was saying, Randall likes to play the horses and dogs and well, anywhere he can place a bet, he does. Your mother has a secret, too. She may have kicked the alcohol, but her new drug of choice can be as equally destructive. It’s shopping. She’s been known to spend a hundred thousand in an afternoon. The two fuel each other. She needs his winnings to support her addiction. That all works well, as long as Randall wins. When his streak first ended, he thought he could gamble his way out. That’s what happens with the addiction. Every next bet has the potential to save both him and his reputation. However, as you can imagine, since we’re sitting here, it hasn’t worked. Each bet dug him deeper and deeper into debt—”

“Randall is a doctor. He makes good money.”

Stewart’s gaze darkened at my interruption.

I didn’t care if he approved of my speaking or not. This was my life and my future we were discussing casually, like a movie or book. I needed clarification. “I still don’t understand…”

“Perhaps you should try listening?” he said, somewhat condescendingly.

Pressing my lips together I stared, lifting my brows for him to continue.

“As I was saying, Randall’s debt grew. He tried to work a deal with the gentleman who loaned him the money. These types of gentlemen are not interested in deals and they don’t take kindly to unpaid debts.

“Randall came to me for help. I have money that I can lend. The thing is…” He paused. “…I don’t need it. Therefore, I decided that in exchange for the money, I wanted something else…” He reached for my knee. “…something less conventional in return. You see, since my wife passed, I have found myself in need of companionship. I have a reputation, and there’s nothing like a pretty, sexy young thing like you to send the world of stuck-up assholes into a frenzy. I want them to talk and notice; however, I don’t want to feed the paparazzi. A young wife is better than the string of dates or dealing with hired women to fill the roles I desire.”

Did he equate the two? A wife or a prostitute? My voice raised an octave or two. “I’m not a whore. I cannot be bought.”

“You are not a whore, and I don’t mean to insinuate that you are. However, anyone can be bought. You come from a socially acceptable family, and though young, you can be taught to deal with those stuck-up assholes. And, because you’re young, you can be trained to fulfill my requirements.”

No longer able to sit, I stood and paced about the large room. “This is ridiculous. I’m not for sale, and I’m not a dog. I won’t be trained.”

“Victoria, I assure you, you’re not a dog. Bestiality is not my thing. As I said, you’re not a whore, but once you agree to this marriage, you will be my whore.”

“I don’t understand. I’m not selling myself to save Randall or Marilyn. They wouldn’t lift a finger for me. Why would I do this for them?”

“Didn’t you wonder why they weren’t willing to pay for your continued education?”

“No,” I answered unequivocally. “I know why.”

Stewart lifted his eyebrow in question.

“They hate me and everything about me. That’s fine, I don’t need them. I have a job arranged.”

“At a small insurance company, as a receptionist, making a little over minimum wage.”

My mouth opened. I hadn’t shared my job with anyone—anyone except Val. “How do you know about that? How do you know so much about my family?”

“Vic-tor-ia,” he said, standing and drawing out the three syllables. “I wouldn’t be offering you this opportunity if I hadn’t had you thoroughly investigated. I know everything there is to know about you. I can’t have a wife with skeletons in her closet.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

Coming closer, his words slowed. “Because a studio apartment and minimum wage is better than living between this penthouse and my estate just outside the city limits? Or because you don’t want to help your sister?”

What did he know about my sister? Val meant everything to me. I would do anything for my younger sister. After all, it wasn’t like our parents cared. We were all each other had. Keeping my eyes away from Stewart’s smug expression, I asked, “What do you know about my sister?” Before he could respond, I walked toward the windows; the ocean was rough with white-capped waves glistening out toward the horizon.

Stewart’s voice came from behind me, his tone steadfast in his knowledge. “I know everything about both of you. I know everything about your no-good stepfather, your mother, and their spoiled boys. I even know about your biological father.”

Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. Despite my better judgment I turned back toward this man who had many more answers than I imagined. “I haven’t heard from him, ever. My mother said he hasn’t contacted her since Val was little. What do you know about him?”

Grasping my shoulders, his large hands ignited my skin as his knowledge and power flowed through his touch. For just a split second, concern showed in the depths of his blue eyes. “I know he doesn’t need to be your concern.” Maintaining his grip, he continued, “Now, to your other questions. I know that Valerie won’t be able to stay at the academy for her senior year of high school nor will her post-high-school education be paid. I know that you have every reason to hate your parents, and perhaps you do, but you don’t hate their boys, your half-brothers. I know you don’t want them to lose their home and very likely their parents.”

“What do you mean?”

“Those men to whom Randall owes the money—they won’t accept less than payment in full. If they don’t get it soon, Randall’s life will pacify them for a short time. It’ll appear like an accident, but it will happen. How do you think your mother will handle that? Do you really want to be responsible for his life?”

Did I? It wouldn’t be the first life I’d been blamed for taking, yet would it end at Randall? Did I care? Did I care if my mother drank herself into oblivion? I didn’t know. Then again, what about Marcus and Lyle? What about Val? What would happen to them?

“Stewart, I don’t even know you…” my words trailed away as I turned back to the window. Randall and my mother could dive into the ocean as far as I was concerned, but the boys? They’re still so young and Val? One more year before her future can begin. It was too much—too much to comprehend.

Fighting the emotional overload, I closed my eyes and tried to grasp what had just happened. As I did, Stewart’s warmth alerted me that he was directly behind me. With my overwrought nerves, I startled when his hands brushed my arms.

“Victoria…” Stewart’s voice resonated deeper, more breathy. “…you’re beautiful. I’ve had time to consider this agreement. I have to admit, as I’ve watched you for the last few weeks, my anticipation at getting to know you has increased. You’re truly astounding: so strong despite the lack of support you’ve been offered.” His hands continued to brush my arms in a ghostly caress.

“But I don’t know you. I don’t love you.”

His voice echoed near my ear, each word closer than the last. “You will get to know me.”

I began to turn toward him, to stop the uneasy feelings his proximity spurred, when he stopped me, his tenor leaving no room for compromise. “Don’t turn around.”

Involuntarily I shuddered at his command.

“Put your hands on the window. Let me see those pretty little fingers.”

I’d never heard a man speak with such unquestioning authority. Obediently, I splayed my fingers on the cool glass, thankful that I’d left my purse on the sofa. Caging me within his arms, his hands came to rest beside mine. The contrast in size was as startling as his deep voice as it exhaled breathily onto my neck.

“I’m sure you’re concerned about our age difference. Let me reassure you, I’ve taken good care of myself. That’s the thing: most women my age haven’t. As I said before, I have preferences, things I like and things I don’t.”

One hand disappeared from sight, and soon brushed the side of my right breast. Sucking in a gasp, I closed my eyes. Why was I allowing this? I should scream or run.

His head dipped to my shoulder as a shudder went through me and a new sensation stirred within me. “Victoria, I like that strength I mentioned. I like that even though you don’t know me, you’ve been honest with me about your family. I like that you haven’t left these negotiations and are considering this agreement. I like that from this view I can see your hard nipples beading under that black dress. I like that you didn’t turn around when I told you not to, and I like that you’re aroused.”

“I’m not,” I lied, as the unusual feelings made my core clench. It made no sense. I didn’t know this man, didn’t want this man, yet his mere words were doing something to me.

The hand that had brushed my breast came back up and slipped down the front of my dress. As I gasped and began to move, his deep voice stopped my movement. “I said to keep your hands on the window. I didn’t give you permission to move. Did I?”

When I failed to respond, his fingers found my nipple and rolled the hard nub, in a painful twist. “Victoria, I asked you a question. Answer me, or I’ll need to get your attention another way.”

It took all of my concentration to form the words and not think about what his hands were doing. I didn’t know if I liked it or hated it. My mind and my body were at war, and I was caught in the middle. As his fingers sought the other nipple, I remembered how to speak. “No. You didn’t give me permission.”

“Good girl. Now, don’t move your hands and tell me the truth. This is turning you on, isn’t it?”

“I-I don’t know I’m scared.”

His lips brushed my neck. Instead of fighting, I tilted my head back against his chest to give him better access.

Sighing, he moaned. “Damn, girl, you’re sexier up close than I ever imagined. Do you know how hot that answer was?” His fingers that had just painfully twisted my hard nub caressed my same breast. Suddenly, his touch was warm and electric. “You may be frightened, but it’s not of me: it’s of what you’re feeling. Your nipples are telling me you’re feeling the same thing I am. They’re saying that you like this.” With both hands on my breasts, he lowered the top of my dress, fully exposing me to the window. Thankfully, we were stories above the city. “Do you know how else I know you’re aroused?”

Forming words had become increasingly difficult. Therefore, I shook my head.

“I smell it, and darling, you smell fantastic. I bet you taste fantastic.” Nuzzling my exposed neck and shoulder, he continued, “Have you ever let a boy go down on you?”

“N-No, I’ve never…”

“There’re so many things that I can show you, so many highs. Darling, if you and I can make this agreement happen, I promise you highs like you’ve never imagined.”

“This-this isn’t right.”

“Does it feel wrong?”

I wanted to say yes, it felt wrong, but it didn’t. “My parents can’t do this to me. It isn’t fair.”

Continuing his torment of my breasts, Stewart continued, “They aren’t the first. Think of this like an old-world arranged marriage. Do you think those lords and ladies didn’t think of their daughters as a commodity, as a means to an end? Their daughters were nothing more than a way to infiltrate into a better family, a better way of life. Just like a young virgin married off to a king, consider yourself a payment to save your family’s standing. If you agree to this, they can go on fooling the upper-crust snobs.”

“B-But I don’t care about them—”

“No? What about your sister? Do you want Val to have the education she deserves? Would you like to have so much money and influence that you could tell your mother to fuck off?”

I’d never dreamt of that, never even considered it. Was that the opportunity staring me in the face? Did I want that? Wait! No, I wasn’t selling myself for them—but Val?

My internal debate came to an immediate end with another painful twist of my nipple. “Ouch.”

“I asked you if you wanted to help your sister and outclass your mother at the same time.”

“I want to help Val.” Once I spoke, the pinch morphed to a pleasant caress. “I-I don’t know about my Oh!” Stewart’s hips tilted forward, stalling the thoughts of my family. He pulled me against his chest and introduced my lower back to what I was sure was a huge erection.

“Victoria, I can only imagine how tight and wet you are right now. I know my cock will stretch that tight pussy in the most incredible way.”

I’d never heard anyone speak this way. As much as I wanted it to disgust me, it didn’t. Powerfully, he pulled my ass against him.

“You’re worried about my age. I like your age. I like that you aren’t a virgin, but that you have so much more to learn. I guarantee I’m not like that kid from Kinsley Preparatory: I’m a real man who knows what he’s doing. I’ll do things to you that you’ve never imagined.”

“H-How do you know what I’ve imagined? And how do you know about Wesley?” He was from Kinsley and the only boy I’d ever been with. Our first time was a blundering of sorts. Neither one of us knew what to do or how to go about it. The next time didn’t hurt as much, but being with him had never been nearly as erotic as standing here against a window with my hands being the only thing I could see, besides the gorgeous blue ocean view.

“I’ve told you: I’ve been watching you and doing my research.” With one arm above my exposed breasts and the other around my waist, he pulled my ass tighter against his erection and swayed his hips. “And like I said, I’m glad you’re not a virgin. I don’t want that responsibility. That said, other than the fact that you had one guy’s dick inside of you, I promise, when it comes to what I have planned, you’ve never experienced anything like it.”

His words and hips created a delicious rhythm rocking me against his solid chest, as well as other parts of him. Without thinking, my body moved in sync.

“Please…” I needed this to stop. The painful tension building within me caused my insides to ache. “…please, Stewart.”

His arm tightened around my waist. “Yes, Victoria, please what? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to fondle that deliciously lickable breast again and pinch that hard nipple or do you want more than that?”

“I-I want…”

“If I lift this dress, I could expose your slick thighs. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?”

“S-Stewart, you’re right, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve never felt this way. I don’t know what to do.”

His hand lowered to the hem of my dress and began to lift. “Let me see how wet you are.”

Was it a question? Was he asking me or telling me what he was going to do? I couldn’t think straight. Brushing my inner thigh, I knew he’d find what he wanted. I was wetter than I’d ever been.

His voice was low as his fingers slid over my thighs, so near, yet not touching where my body wanted him. Did I want that?

“Victoria, you’re a naughty girl. If I put my fingers inside of you, would you fuck them? If I told you to?”

“W-What are you doing to me? I-I don’t want this.” Throwing caution to the wind, I gathered what little strength I had, pushed off from the window, and spun into his chest. “Stop. You’re a pervert, and I told you I’m not a whore.”

His blue eyes were the color of the water, deep and dark. With a smirk, he lifted his finger to his lips and sucked. After making a show of it, he grinned. “Once you’re my wife I can do that whenever I want. Allowing your husband to finger fuck you isn’t being a whore. Like I said, you will be my whore.”

Righting my dress, I moved around him. The sound of his chuckle filled the otherwise quiet office as I made my way to a chair and sat. “I’m sorry Randall has made poor decisions, but that isn’t my concern. I have a job lined up. I’ll support Val. We’ll make it.”

Stewart walked to his desk, his erection visibly tenting his jeans as he sat. Lifting two manila folders, he slid both of them toward me. “Victoria Conway, this offer has not been made lightly. I’ve given it a lot of thought and consideration. I’ve even had my legal team work out the necessary legalities. In this folder…” He touched the one on my left. “…is an agreement to do as we’ve discussed. It includes a do-not-disclose statement regarding what happened today as well as an agreement for us to wed, next Thursday. Along with that is a contract that I’ll sign. One that will guarantee the payment of necessary funds to repay your stepfather’s current debt as well as give you access to any monies necessary to fund your sister’s education at the academy and any undergraduate and post-graduate study she chooses. I believe she’s interested in medicine.” His eyebrows rose. “Medical school can be expensive.”

I swallowed. How did he know so much? That was a lot to offer. Could I truly make her dreams come true?

Stewart continued, “And in this folder…” He touched the one on my right. “…is a nondisclosure agreement for what happened today and a check made out to you for fifty thousand dollars. I want you. I want you to be my wife; however, if you choose to walk away today, I don’t want you to be beholden to the likes of Randall and Marilyn. You deserve better than that. This money will help you, post-graduation, and you can use as much as you’d like to help your sister, your mother, whomever. The choice is yours.”

“Fifty thousand? All I have to do is sign and I have fifty thousand dollars? The only stipulation is that I can’t tell anyone what happened here today?”

He leaned back and nodded. “Darling, your mother’s little secret shopping issue would be nothing for you if you sign the other contract. Within reason, your access to my fortune won’t be restricted. You’ll not only live in the best of the best, vacation at the most exclusive Spas and Suites, but you’ll have whatever you desire. Fifty thousand wouldn’t even be a limit on one of your charge cards.”

“But, why me? And what will I have to do for all of that?” My voice was gaining confidence with each question.

“Why you? Randall. But that was only the beginning. I’ve watched you; I saw how incredible you are. I waited for you to become legal. Then today, I saw that you’re everything I imagined and more: so sexual, so responsive. I could have so much fun with you. That would be what you’d need to do: let me do what I want with that sexy body.”

Goose bumps materialized. “What does that mean? Will you hurt me?”

He leaned forward. “When I twisted your nipples, did it hurt?”

I looked down and back up to his eyes. I refused to let him intimidate me with the subject of my own body. “Yes, it did.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Blood rushed toward my cheeks. “It hurt, but then you made it feel better.”

“And?”

“I guess I liked it.”

“As Mrs. Harrington, your pleasure, as well as your pain, will work together toward my pleasure. You’ll be my wife and my whore. Ms. Madison will be responsible for getting you ready for the role of my wife. She’ll teach you how to act, respond, and how to deal with some of the issues that’ll arise. I’ll assume the responsibility of teaching you about your sexual role.”

My sexual role? What the hell? One thing at a time. “Ms. Madison?” I asked.

“You met her when you arrived.”

“Lisa?” I asked.

“Well, yes, Lisa. Interesting that she gave you her first name.”

“What if I try this and I can’t do it?”

“Look through the documents. Everything is spelled out: what will happen if I chose to terminate the contract, what will happen if you chose to terminate it, as well as other options. You should read it all carefully before you decide.”

I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this. “When do you need an answer?”

“Tomorrow morning, by seven-thirty. If you choose to sign the nondisclosure statement then you have school to attend. If you choose to fulfill the contract, we have a wedding in less than a week.”

“B-But what about my graduation?”

“You will graduate. I’m one of the biggest donors at the academy. They will not refuse my wife’s graduation.

I stood. “I guess I need your number so that I can call you in the morning.”

“No.” He smirked.

“No?”

“You’ll be staying here tonight. During that time you can speak to Ms. Madison and ask her questions. If in the morning, you opt for leaving, Travis will drive you to class.”

“I’m not sleeping with you. I’m not agreeing to that as part of the deliberation process.”

Playfully, Stewart put his hands in the air. “My cock will not enter that tight little pussy until you ask for it. Until you beg for it.”

Jerk! “Well, then that will make our arranged marriage rather easy on my part. I have no intentions of begging for anything.”

“Really? I barely touched you today and you creamed those pretty little panties of yours. I’m confident that you’ll be begging to have my dick inside of you before we tie the knot.”

I suddenly thought of Val and her ice cream, waiting for my return. “I-I need to call Val.”

“Of course. She’ll be concerned; however, at this time, the nondisclosure is effectively in place, since both options include that clause.”

I gripped the back of the chair. How was this happening? “I have to speak to her. What can I tell her?”

Stewart grinned. “Victoria, you are truly my dream. If there is any more I can do to entice you to sign that contract, don’t be shy about a counteroffer.”

He didn’t know the truth. All his research didn’t tell him that I wasn’t a dream: I was a nightmare. I’d been told that my whole life. Pushing those thoughts away, I replied, “That doesn’t answer my question. I don’t lie to my sister.”

“Did you tell her about Wesley? Did you tell her about the job with the insurance company or the deposit you put on that small apartment?”

His intimate knowledge of my personal life was starting to piss me off. “I eventually told her about Wesley. I will tell her about the apartment and job. I didn’t want to worry her right now. She still thinks I’m going to the University of Miami.”

“So, darling, my point is that you have indeed lied to your sister.” His blonde brows lowered, and his eyes squinted. “You won’t lie to me. As you can see, I have ways of learning things.”

“I can tell her that it was a meeting about a possible opportunity and since it was elaborate, I’m staying in the city, at a fancy hotel. She’ll be excited for me.” That wasn’t a lie. She would be. My sister could take any scenario and make it optimistic. I on the other hand was unsure if it were possible to spin this whole thing to the positive. “Now, where am I to stay?”

“Ms. Madison will show you to a room, but know that once we’re married, you’ll share a room with me.”

If we are married,” I corrected.

Another chuckle. Stewart looked down at his watch. “You have almost twelve hours to make up your mind. In less than one hour you’ve gone from it’s not happening to if. Perhaps I’ll have my begging before the night is done?”

Smug bastard. That was one challenge I didn’t mind accepting. “Not happening.” I turned toward the door. “Where do I find Lisa?”

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