But she beats him to the punch.
“You’re going to marry her,” Mother says, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her. “It’s already been decided.”
Say the fuck what?
I can’t help it.
I start to laugh, because this is unbelievable.
“Great joke, really.” I glance at the both of them. Mother appears anxious. Winston seems frustrated—and even sympathetic.
And he’s never sympathetic. Especially toward me.
My laughter dies, and I sober up fast. “You’re serious.”
Mother nods at Winston who picks up a slim black folder I didn’t even notice and offers it to me. “All the details are in here,” he says.
I snatch the folder from his fingers and drop it on the table with a loud slap, flipping it open to find a thick stack of papers full of legal jargon and a bunch of bullshit. I see my name.
I see the name of my…
Future fucking bride?
Charlotte Lancaster.
“Oh hell no.” I lift my head to find them already watching me. “The Lancasters are fucking lunatics.”
There are a bunch of Lancasters all over this city, but if she’s the one I’m thinking of, I’m not too far off the mark. Blonde—they’re all blonde. Pretty—they’re all that too. Sheltered.
Batshit crazy thanks to her overprotective father who won’t let her out of his sight.
Or maybe he keeps watch on her because she’s batshit crazy? I’m not too sure.
“They are one of the oldest, most established families in the country,” Mother says, putting on her dignified airs. “The Lancasters are extremely wealthy, and very well connected.”
“They’re also a bunch of assholes,” I mutter.
The Lancaster men are notorious for their rude behavior. They just flat out don’t give a shit—and they don’t have to. They’ve been running this world for hundreds of years.
Mother doesn’t acknowledge my statement, which I’m sure she knows is true. “It’s a power move, merging the two families.”
“Why do I have to be involved with this power move?”
“You’re all that I have left. Everyone else is taken. Your younger brother has his fiancée. Winston is married. There is no other male in this family who is single, and when Reginald Lancaster came to me with the idea, I couldn’t resist.” Mother smiles warmly, as if she hasn’t a care in the world. As if she hasn’t asked me to completely change my life and marry some woman I don’t even know. “You’re going to marry her.”
“What does she even look like? How old is she?” I can’t even believe I’m contemplating this. And from the sharp glance Winny just gave me, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.
“There’s a photo of her in the back of the folder, behind the contract,” Winny bites out. “She’s twenty. She has three brothers, and they’re all assholes.”
“Winston,” Mother chastises.
“What? You know it’s true. Even that youngest one who’s still in high school. I hear Crew Lancaster is the biggest asshole of all. As bad as Whit,” Winston says.
Everyone knows Whit Lancaster. He’s a complete dick who’s the oldest of Augustus Lancaster’s children. And Augustus is the oldest son of the oldest Lancaster of many generations. They’re the elite branch of the family.
Charlotte and her asshole brothers were born to Augustus Lancaster’s younger brother. Reginald. Reggie. The heir and the spare analogy didn’t just apply to royalty. It also works for generationally wealthy families. They all want that heir and spare.
In our family, for instance, Winston is the heir.
I’m the spare.
Keaton is the bonus.
I shuffle through the papers—damn this contract is thick—until I come across a photo. I pull it out and stare at it, trying to come up with some sort of feeling I might have toward this Charlotte Lancaster person upon first seeing her.
Nothing. I feel nothing.
The photo is from what I can only assume is a debutante ball. She’s wearing a ridiculous white dress that looks like an over-frosted wedding cake. Her smile is small. Reluctant. Her eyes are blue, crystal clear like a perfect spring sky. Her hair is blonde and done up in the most elaborate style it overwhelms her small features.
I prefer brunettes. Happy, sexy-as-fuck brunettes who know how to have a good time and laugh a lot. Redheads too. I don’t discriminate.
Well, I might discriminate against grumpy-looking blondes who seem pissed at the world.
“She looks like an angry virgin,” I finally say, my gaze still on the photo.
“Perry,” Mother admonishes.
Winston smothers a laugh.
“Didn’t she refuse to dance with every guy who asked her the night of her debut?” I remember reading something about this. My mother and Winston share a look, but don’t answer me. “Yeah, pretty sure she even turned down her father. Bet that pissed him off.”
“None of that matters,” Mother says. “I’m sure she’s changed.”
Yeah, right.
I toss the photo onto the table, immediately banishing her face from my thoughts. “She’s not my type.”
“If she spreads her legs, she’s your type,” Winston says gruffly.
I’m both flattered and insulted by his statement. He knows I can get pussy. I used to take any pussy I could get when I was younger, but I’m more discriminating now.
I use restraint. I’m not out of control like I used to be.
I ignore what he says, focusing on Mother. “I don’t like blondes, especially ones I don’t know.”
“You’ll get to know her.”
“Between the gossip about her and that photo, I don’t want to.”
Her lips thin. “You don’t have a choice. The contract has already been signed.”
What the fuck? A contract? “Not by me.”
“The deal isn’t between you and Charlotte. It’s between me and her father,” she says, as if that’s that. I’m going to agree because I always agree. Caroline Constantine’s most dutiful son is about to marry a woman he doesn’t even know.
“I’m an adult,” I remind her. “You can’t just marry me off to some random woman. I won’t do it.”
“You will,” Mother says firmly.
“No.” I shake my head. “Excuse my language, Mother, but fuck that. People don’t do this kind of shit. Not these days.”
“You’d be surprised,” she says cryptically, raising a single brow.
“Well, I’m not doing it.” I grab the photo and shove it back into the folder, slapping it shut before I push it across the table toward my mother. “Absolutely not. I refuse.”
“Perry. Darling. Please. Listen to me.” She ignores the rejected folder, her gaze never wavering from mine. “I need you to do this. For me. For our family. This is a power merger of two very established families, the likes which haven’t been seen in years. Fifty? Maybe even a hundred. When we come together, we’ll become a force to be reckoned with…”
“And we’ll be able to conquer the Morellis once and for all,” Win finishes for her. “And anyone else who attempts to come for us.”