We ate in that silence.
The quiet hum of utensils, the slow sips from porcelain as he worked and ignored me. Every sound too neat, and too civilized. Halfway through my meal that tasted like sawdust thanks to him, he set his stylus down.
“Alaric will be joining us for dinner this evening,” he informed me. “He seems intent on moving quickly.”
So, he was serious about handling things.
I wondered if Danielle Rousseau knew. If she’d heard the news and laughed because he was considering being paired off with someone like me. I realized I hadn’t given him a response when his chair creaked, the sound deliberate, like the clearing of a throat.
“This should be good then,” I told him what he wanted to hear, my voice even.
He chuckled low, the sound without mirth. “Then you know not to ruin it.”
I didn’t reply that time.
There was nothing left to say. He retreated behind his tablet while I dissected a slice of melon into perfect cubes. Somewhere inside me, the dangerous spark of possibility refused to die.
I would take this as a sign.
If Alaric Kostas wanted to marry me to serve his own agenda, so be it. My father could savor his imagined victory. What he saw as another lock on my cage, I was starting to see as the key I'd been waiting for.
CHAPTER FIVE
My future was dangling before me and I had to make a choice. Marriage. I’d take it. Not just take it—seize it. A natural fucking progression in the order of things. Heirs. Bloodlines. Power passed through generations.
Did I find the ancient dance of dynasties archaic? Absolutely.
Did I still crave it with every cell in my body? Yes.
Was that hypocritical? People could call it whatever the fuck they wanted. I’d build my empire and watch it outlive me, and I wouldn’t apologize for a second of it. Who I chose to be my partner; the future matriarch of the Kostas and mother of my children was crucial.
My parents had reached a point where they were ready to handpick my bride and resurrect the old customs, the kind where a family’s elders would stand outside the bedroom door just to make sure an “heir” was conceived.
My brother hadn’t been spared the threat either. Dominion tradition didn’t discriminate between heirs and spares—though are situation was the reverse as he wanted no parts of being at the mantle. He was living the life as my right hand, which made our family nag me to get married twice as much as they did him.
The union wasn’t meant to soothe a man’s loneliness, only to fortify his empire, that was the way it had always been, and I hadno illusions that I’d be the exception, though mygoneisbelieved otherwise.
Thus, the Darzi arrangement served dual purposes.
Aligning with that short, twisted sonofabitch would keep my family’s ports safe, at least for now, and if I played it right, would also give me the leverage to cut him off at the knees later and take over his territory too. After officially meeting his daughter, I knew there was far more to be gained than that.
Cassian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Planning to enlighten us about your meeting?”
He leaned against the small drink station in the far corner of my office. Across from me, Derrick sprawled in one of the leather chairs, his posture a deliberate rebellion his mother would have corrected with a single glance.
“It was productive,” I said.
A laugh escaped Derrick as his dark gaze found mine. “Christ, Alaric. Sounds like you reviewed her quarterly performance instead of taking her to dinner.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Cassian straightened. “Well, what was it like then?”
I paused, choosing my words. “She defied expectations.”
“Mmm,” Derrick’s lips curved knowingly. “Beautiful women tend to.”
“She’s more than that,” I replied. “Her father’s done a number on her, but she has the potential to be everything I’ve been looking for.”