Terms and Conditions: Chapter 22

Disconnecting for the remainder of my honeymoon was a mistake. I have never spent an hour without checking my phone, let alone days.

This is what happens when you take a vacation.

During my time off the grid, someone leaked a story to the gossip magazines saying my marriage was staged. I don’t doubt my father was behind this kind of campaign, although it will be difficult to prove it.

I have to give him credit. He was thorough, making sure to include a set of fake documents detailing shit Iris and I never even discussed in our contract. It portrays me as the exact monster the world expects of me. Headlines about a speculated inheritance. Interviews from soon-to-be ex-employees claiming my relationship with Iris came out of nowhere, all because of a clause from my grandfather about giving birth to an heir. There are even sonogram photos of a child who sure as shit isn’t mine.

I wouldn’t bat an eye at the headlines, but the way they talk about Iris… Now that is simply unacceptable.

You never cared about their opinions in the past…

That was before I had someone worth protecting from the scum of the earth. Iris isn’t naive. She knows how the media portrays me and what might have happened if she married me. But this… Even I’m horrified at some of the comments.

I tuck my phone in my pocket before I smash it into a million pieces. “Call my lawyer when we land.”

Iris looks up from her tablet. “What for?”

“I’m in the mood to make people miserable.”

“Can it still be considered a mood if it’s a constant state of being?”

I glare.

She holds her hands up in submission. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m about to slap half of Chicago with a libel lawsuit.”

Her lips form a small O as she nods her head. “Ahh. So I take it that you saw the articles?”

I blink. “You know about them?”

She moves her head up and down again as her eyes shift away from mine.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Her heavy sigh battles to be heard over the engines starting up. “My mom called me while I was packing this morning and told me about them. I was hoping we would make it through the flight before you read them, but I see it was a lost cause.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the moment you saw them?” And please tell me you didn’t read the comments.

“Because I didn’t find it worth ruining our last day together with something like this.”

“Who the fuck cares about that?”

She offers me a tight smile. “If you’re worried about what the lawyer might think, I already have a plan. I refuse to let your father beat us.”

Us. Not you. The idea of us working as a team against my father pleases me, but not enough to erase the anger I feel about her putting my inheritance first. “Fuck the plan and fuck my father. That’s not what’s important here.”

She bats her lashes. “My, my, Declan. Are you offended for me?”

“They called you a money-hungry whore.” My molars smash together.

“At least they chose a good photo of me for that one. The reporters over at the Chicago Chronicle weren’t as kind when it came to my secret pregnancy announcement.”

“What?” I can barely see past the black dots filling my vision as I pull out my phone again.

Iris places her hand over mine. “Don’t worry about it.”

I should be reassuring her. No one deserves to be talked about that way. While some comments are to be expected, like her only marrying me for a paycheck or my last name, the rest are despicable. They pick apart her looks. Her intelligence. Her heart. Each one makes me want to find the internet trolls who said something negative about her and strangle them with their computer cords. If I thought I hated the media before, nothing compares to the burning desire to erase the first amendment from American history.

She gives my hand a squeeze, pulling me back from my murderous thoughts. “They’re only words.”

Inside, I’m seething. On the outside, I’m just as cold and calculated as the articles describe me to be. “I expected a different reaction from you.”

What did you really think she would do? Yell? Scream? Cry?

Anything would be better than the current alternative of her trying to reassure me. I don’t deserve it.

“I knew all of this would happen eventually.” She shrugs as if none of this bothers her, but it’s nothing but a lie. Her chin trembles and I find myself fisting my hands on my lap to prevent me from reaching out to comfort her.

Me comforting her? I wouldn’t even know where to start with something so ridiculous. “I’ll handle this.”

She raises a brow. “What are you going to do? Defend my honor?”

“At the very least.”

Her laugh eases some of the tension in my muscles. “Please don’t do something stupid because you’re angry.”

“I won’t.”

She lifts a brow. “Or anything that could be deemed a felony.”

“Is it still considered a crime if I don’t get caught?”

Her eyes brighten, chipping away at the icy block of my heart. “Paying your way out of prison isn’t something to show off about.”

“What good is having all this money if I have to follow the law?”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Then don’t.”

Her nose scrunches. “Moving on. We need to be strategic about all of this. I’m sure your grandfather’s lawyer is starting to become suspicious about the legitimacy of everything.”

Whatever good mood she brought about a moment ago is wiped away by her comment. How can she think about the lawyer during a time like this? For fuck’s sake, there were people making death threats toward her.

“I don’t care about the lawyer.” At least not right now.

She looks at me like I grew a second head. “Right. Well, regardless of your current opinion on the matter, I have the perfect plan.”

Seeing as her last plan ended up with us being married, I can only imagine how this one will go.

I consider going over to my father’s house. The temptation to break his jaw rides me hard, but I hold back. Punching him would only make me feel better for a moment while destroying everything he loves will have a much more satisfying alternative.

Growing up being raised by someone like him meant developing the same traits because to survive someone like him, I needed to evolve. I learned through painful trial and error to hold my cards close to my chest because to love something meant to risk losing it. I’ve loved and I’ve lost, and I despise both feelings equally.

A booming voice outside my office door, followed by Iris’s shrill laugh, has me moving to the door and turning the knob. I open it to find Iris and my father in the middle of a death stare contest.

He smirks at me. “Perfect timing. Tell your bitch to heel.”

I only manage a single step before Iris’s fist flies, slamming straight into my father’s jaw. Iris screams as her fist connects with his face. A chill runs down my spine, and I swallow back the acid crawling up my throat at Iris’s cry.

He tests his jaw, rubbing the spot she punched with his palm. “You fucking—”

I see red as I lunge for my father, but my attention shifts when Iris lets out a whimper.

“Ow.” A single tear slips down Iris’s cheek as she checks out her fist.

I don’t think as I jump into action. She hisses at me when I try to assess her hand, all while she swipes the tears off her face with her non-injured hand. Something definitely doesn’t look right with her pinkie, and she winces as I lightly run my finger over it.

“That doesn’t feel too good—” Iris curses as she brushes her thumb across her knuckles.

“That’s what you get for thinking you could lay a hand on me.”

I swear this man has a death wish.

“Oh, I’d like to lay more than a hand on you, you evil fucker.” Iris tries to step around me, but I block her path.

“I’ll handle this.” I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Her brows pull together as she shuts her mouth.

“I was coming here to check in on Iris and see how she was holding up after those articles came out. I’m sure it can’t be easy being referred to as a mindless slut—”

Bone crunches beneath my fist as I slam it straight into my father’s nose. A deep sense of satisfaction fills me as his head rears back, rolling with the momentum of my punch. Blood gushes down his face and drips onto the carpet.

I grin at the mess.

He tries to staunch the bleeding, but nothing seems to work. “Looks like you’re more like me than I thought.”

Something dark takes over me. “Get out!” I roar as I lunge at him. My fingers grip onto air as he stumbles backward, tripping over his shoes as he holds his head back.

The pressure in my chest doesn’t lessen as he disappears through the double doors. Hopefully he returns to whatever corner of hell he crawled out of before I have a chance to get my hands on him again.

Iris huffs. “Well, that didn’t go exactly as expected.”

I turn around, finding her hand clutched to her chest. Her twisted expression has my blood rushing to my ears.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the big plan you’ve been working on.”

She scoffs. “No. I got a bit derailed, but rest assured, my other idea is fool-proof.”

“I’ll be the judge of that given your current track record.”

She laughs before wincing at the hand pressed against her chest. “Ouch.”

“Let me have a better look.” My pulse quickens as I assess her injury. I’m careful not to touch the skin near her knuckles, keeping mind of the swelling. It doesn’t look like an open fracture so at least that is good news. “You’re insane. There’s no other explanation for why you would punch someone in the face without knowing how.”

“I thought it would be like the movies.” She flinches as she checks out the damage.

“We need to get you to the hospital to have it checked out.” I choke on the words, unable to process the reason I decide to make that call. I fucking despise hospitals.

“No! I’m fine. See!” She wiggles her fingers and recoils.

I’m hit with the urge to go find my father but hold back.

“Why would you punch him?”

Her jaw locks together, and she looks down at her purple heels.

I lift her chin with my finger. “Tell me.”

She sighs, and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort not to shake the answers out of her.

“Promise not to do anything illegal if I tell you?”

“No.”

Her head drops. “You’re not going to be happy.”

“I’m never happy.” Except for rare occasions. All of which Iris is a part of.

She looks back up at me. Her eyes have a sheen to them that has nothing to do with her injured hand. “He offered me money to…”

“To what?” Every muscle in my body tenses.

“To prevent me from having a baby. Ever.” She looks away as if she can hide the way her face is a wreck of emotions.

I’m already halfway out the door, body hot to the touch and my head empty of any thoughts besides finding my father and pummeling him into the ground.

I should have known he would try to pull off a stunt like this. Part of me had stupidly hoped he would have some sense of decency left, but it seems he doesn’t have a moral bone left in his body. I underestimated just how far he would go to retain his position as CEO. Because without it, he would have nothing to live for. His kids hate him and his wife is dead. Losing his executive position would be the last blow in his miserable life.

Iris grips onto my arm and tugs me back. “Wait!”

“I can’t talk to you right now.” I can’t talk to anyone, let alone her.

You’re the one who brought her into this mess. What did you expect?

Blood heats beneath my skin. I try to shake her off, but her hold only grows more desperate.

“I need you to take me to the hospital.”

I pause, seeing through the cloud of red haze blocking my decision-making. “What?”

Her misty eyes lock onto mine. “I’m in a lot of pain.”

Fuck. I release a ragged breath and shut my eyes. “Harrison will take you.”

“Please don’t make me go alone.” Her plea is my undoing.

My plan to send my father into a coma slips away as I shut my eyes and nod my head. “Fine. Let’s get you to a doctor.”