Vivianne

I couldn’t believe that my day had gone down the crap shoot so fast and so deep. I watched my coworkers file out of the room, and I definitely didn’t miss the looks they shot me. Lucky bastards! Why couldn’t I have kept my big, fat mouth shut for once? 

When everyone else was gone, Dominic and I stared each other down from opposite ends of the table. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to start this unwanted conversation. Not after how much I’d already screwed myself over today. 

“Let’s take this to my office.” He stood and straightened his suit that I knew cost more than my entire week’s salary. That stupid grin still played on his pompous face. My fingers itched to grab my coffee and make good on that promise to introduce it to his front. But I gripped the cup tightly, instead. I’d worked with Dominic long enough that we both had each other’s buttons figured out. Giving him no reaction was the fastest way to get my revenge.

I nodded and followed him into the hallway. My stupid pencil skirt rode up in the back, again, and I did my best to get it to settle into place without having to fish around back there. Being a woman in a corporate environment like this came with more than its share of small annoyances. 

Dominic didn’t say a word to me all the way to the office. I don’t know if he was still making plans for our fake wedding (gag) or something else, and honestly? I didn’t want to know. That man’s mind was an enigma to me. Every time I thought I had his thought process figured out, he’d do or say something entirely unexpected. Yes, so far that unpredictability had resulted in explosive growth for our company. But I had no doubt that one of these days he’d offend the wrong person, and I would have to step in and clean up the mess.

We stepped into the office, a sleek, modern space with a panoramic view of the city on two sides and a massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the third. As usual, he went straight to his well-stocked bar in the corner and pulled two crystal glasses from the shelf. “I believe discussions such as this go better with a little bit of lubrication,” he said, and uncorked a particularly nice bottle of scotch. 

The clink of ice and slosh of liquid accompanied my footsteps across the room. I sat in my favorite chair facing both windows and sat back to stare over the city. The view from here was something I could never get tired of. 

Dominic sat down behind his massive oak desk and slid a glass of scotch toward me. “Drink up, Viv,” he insisted. I couldn’t understand why he was so jovial now. We were here to discuss what I had no doubt would be the worst six weeks of my life, if I couldn’t come up with a better plan. 

That being the case, I drank the damn scotch in two swallows. 

I placed my empty glass on the desk and began to pace. Dominic lounged in his chair with his usual air of dominance, which made my blood boil. He chuckled and gestured toward the chair. “Take a seat. There’s no reason for you to wear a groove in my floor.” 

“We’re here to discuss the real plan to get on Kingsley’s good side, right? There’s no way you’re actually going to follow through with this nonsense fake marriage bullshit.” I crossed my arms and stared into his stupid golden brown eyes. How much more time was I going to have to spend looking at them if we ended up as husband and wife?

Fake husband and wife, I reminded myself. Thank literally everything under the heavens. I could never actually be the wife of such a pompous ass.

“The fake marriage is the real plan.” Dominic shot me a crooked grin, the kind that reminded me exactly how young he was. Just 28, this asshole. And, yes, I would be a liar if I said he wasn’t conventionally attractive. That didn’t mean that I was attracted to him, but I could see why he had no trouble finding a little company whenever he wanted it.

I gritted my teeth and shook my head. “No. No way in hell, Dominic. This idea is ridiculous. This isn’t some billionaire romance novel. You can’t just buy yourself a wife.” I narrowed my eyes, pulling out the face that usually got me what I wanted around here. 

But it had seemingly no effect today. He just laughed and took a sip of his scotch. “Well, I am a billionaire. A handsome, smart, sophisticated billionaire. There are plenty of women who would grovel at my feet for the chance to be my wife, even for only six weeks.”

“I don’t grovel for anyone,” I spat. “Least of all spoiled little rich boys like you. Besides, have you even considered the risks that come with such a stupid plan?”

Dominic shrugged and placed his glass on the desk. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his fingertips. “Risk management is usually your department, Viv. So why don’t you enlighten me? I’m sure you’ve already run the scenario through a thousand different filters in that brilliant little mind of yours.” 

“First of all, what happens if the truth gets out? Voss Enterprises’ credibility would be destroyed. All of our investors and business partners would begin to wonder what else our CEO is lying about. Secondly, the legal aspect of dissolving a fake marriage could get messy. We would have to clearly define beforehand all assets and avoid mingling our belongings as much as possible.” 

I could tell by the look on his face that none of my words were getting through his thick skull. “No one outside the board knows what we’re planning. If it gets out, we’ll know we have a hole to plug. I am more than confident in my ability to crush the credibility of anyone in that room if need be. And your second point is simple. We both sign prenups, keep our finances separate, and maintain our own spaces. Is that really the extent of your downsides?”

"No, it's not. I haven't even touched on the personal cost yet. How much are you willing to pay me for all the extra time I'm going to have to invest in this charade? We've had our agreement from day one that my personal time is my personal time. I refuse to entangle my personal life with your wild party-boy lifestyle outside of these four walls."

The thought of giving up my quiet evenings was, in a word, repugnant.