Chapter 2

“Tea, Melanie?” my mother asks with a saccharine smile as she holds the bone-china teapot aloft.

“No thanks, Mom. I better be heading home soon. I have an early start tomorrow.”

Sunday afternoon tea at my mother’s house is a torturous weekly affair. My penance for being such a terrible daughter—at least in my mother’s eyes. She regards me with disdain. She hates my job, thinks it’s beneath me. Well, not necessarily beneath me as much as beneath her to have a daughter who works as a veterinary nurse.

Her lip curls with the faintest hint of a sneer. “Bryce has something to discuss with you before you leave.”

My heart rate kicks up a notch, and my eyes dart around the room. “Bryce is here?”

“He does live here, darling,” she replies with a sniff.

I grit my teeth. “I know. He’s not usually around is all.” And that’s exactly how I like it.

She gives the tiniest shake of her head, like she’s dusting off any suggestion that my older brother isn’t my favorite person in the world. He doesn’t even make the top twenty. “Well, he has some good news for you. He’s managed to perform a miracle.”

A miracle? Has he had his own head surgically removed from his ass? Pressing my lips together, I stifle a snicker. I glance at the clock on the mantel and groan inwardly. I have plans with Tyler at six. He’s going away tomorrow for eight weeks, and I want to spend every second I can with him before he leaves. But what my mother and Bryce want, they get.

I place my cup onto the intricately patterned saucer and drum my fingers on the table.

“Stop fidgeting, Melanie,” my mother admonishes me.

I roll my eyes and blow out a breath. Thirty years old and still being chastised like a teenager. “Is Bryce going to impart this wonderful news any time soon?”

“He’s a busy man. He’ll be down when he’s ready,” she huffs.

Yeah, busy playing online poker or jerking off to cam girls.

I stare at the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly and painfully by while my mother and I sit in silence, waiting for her precious firstborn. Fifteen minutes later, he finally decides to grace us with his presence, strutting into the room like he’s the king of the goddamn world. He’s not even king of his own bedroom. Spoiled mama’s boy.

He flicks his ash-blond hair out of his eyes and preens in the mirror before taking a seat at the table. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to ignite his legendary short temper.

He puffs out his chest. “I’ve found a solution to our money problems, dear sister.”

Not my money problems, jackass. You were in charge of the trust fund. You misused it and left our family almost broke. But I bite my tongue and smile sweetly. It’s the only way to handle him and our mother. “That’s good to know. I’m happy for you.”

His right eyelid twitches. “It’s not just about me. I’m doing this for all our futures. For you and Ashley too.”

The mention of our younger sister’s name makes annoyance prickle beneath my skin. He’s never done anything for her other than screw her over. She almost lost her place at the college of her dreams because of him.

“I don’t need money, Bryce. I’m happy at my job, and I love living with Tyler.”

He snorts. “You’re thirty years old, and you’re happy living with our eccentric cousin?”

“If by eccentric you mean incredibly successful, gregarious, and funny, then yes, very happy, thanks.” Bryce has always hated Tyler. He is faster, stronger, smarter, and better looking than my big brother, and that’s always pissed him off. I suspect his use of eccentric is code for gay, because in addition to his many other flaws, my brother is also a raging homophobe. Not to mention the irony of a thirty-five-year-old man who still lives with his mother calling me out for living with my best friend, who just happens to be my cousin. Tyler and I were born on the same day and have been almost inseparable since.

Bryce’s face twists in a sneer. “Well, this proposal is much more suited to a daughter of Luke and Miranda Edison.”

The way he says proposal has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “What exactly are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with me? I told you, I have no interest in the family money. Not that there’s any left.”

He raises his hand like he’s going to smack me across the face for that last remark, but he quickly remembers where he is. My mother and her housekeeper are watching, and hitting his sister in front of them might just tarnish his good-guy reputation. No, he prefers to wait until we’re alone for that. Not that I think my mother would even care.

“There’s nothing left because our father made such poor business decisions,” he spits.

Anger simmers inside me. That’s a dirty lie, and he knows it. But I clamp my lips shut. I’ve been conditioned since I was thirteen to never question Bryce Edison. Placing my hands on my lap, I dig my fingernails into my palms and try to suppress the rage that wants to erupt out of me.

Bryce straightens his tie. “But I am about to fix all of that.”

Well now I’m suspicious as hell. “How exactly?”

“I’ve arranged a match for you, little sister.”

I frown. “A match?”

“Yes. A husband.”

“A what now?” What the hell? My parents might have been rich once, and my mother comes from a long line of New York royalty, but we aren’t living in a Jane Austen novel here.

“I’ve secured you a husband. A billionaire no less.”

My god, he’s entirely serious. “I don’t want a husband.”

“Did you not hear me? He’s a billionaire, Melanie.”

“I don’t care if he’s the king of England, I’m not marrying him.”

He snarls. “You will do what is necessary to ensure this family’s future, you ungrateful little bitch.”

I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. Instead, I blink at him in shock.

My mother turns to her housekeeper, who’s hovering in the doorway. “Margarite. Please leave us.”

Margarite dips her head like she’s addressing the Queen and ducks out of the room.

“Mom!” I plead. “He can’t be serious. I’m not marrying some crusty old billionaire.”

Bryce places his hand on my thigh beneath the table and squeezes so tightly I know he’ll leave bruises on my skin. I wince, which only makes him squeeze harder. My mother looks away, like she always has. He leans forward, baring his teeth. “You will marry whoever the hell I tell you to marry, Melanie. It’s your fault we’re in this mess. You are the one responsible for our father’s death. Or have you forgotten that?”

Tears blur my vision, and I shake my head. I hate him so much. His fingers dig in deeper, causing searing pain to lance up my thigh. “Now, are you going to keep your pretty mouth shut and listen to what I have to say?”

Tears run down my cheeks now, and I nod. “Yes.”

He releases his grip and relief floods through me.

“Fortunately for you, my little Melanie,” Bryce says, his tone resuming its usual creepy sing-song quality. My mother turns back to the table and watches our exchange. “Despite your history, I have managed to secure you quite the catch.”

I swat away the tears from my cheeks. “Who?”

“Nathan James,” he says with a smirk.

“Nathan James? The man who dates a different woman every week? The guy who works as a lawyer for the mob and is reported to have ice in his veins? You think he’s a catch?”

“He’s very handsome,” my mother says coolly.

I blink at her. “Yeah, so was Ted Bundy.”

“I had to do some persuading, but he’s agreed to take you as his wife, and all he asks in return is that you deliver two heirs.”

My throat squeezes shut. How can someone related to me be so cruel? “You know I might not be able to do that, Bryce. You know what happened in college.”

His blue eyes are ice-cold as he glares at me. “Exactly. We know you’re easy to knock up, little sister. And don’t worry. I have a plan to relieve him of some of his millions without you having to have his kids first.”

There are so many things wrong with what he just said that I don’t even know where to begin. “And what if I don’t agree to this? What if I don’t want to relieve this man of any of his money?”

Bryce bares his teeth once more, looking like a diseased animal. “Then our mother will lose her home, and our little sister will have to drop out of that fancy college she’s at and clean toilets for a living, won’t she?”

There’s nothing wrong with cleaning toilets, you entitled asshole.

“And it will all be your fault, Melanie. First you got our father murdered and then, when you finally have a chance to fix it and secure this family’s future, you refuse.” Bryce twists the knife deeper. “Surely you’re not selfish enough to do that, are you?”

I would never do anything to hurt my baby sister. Ashley and Tyler are my world, and she’s truly innocent in all of this. She still has two years left at Harvard, and tuition is expensive. I hate being backed into a corner, but he maneuvered me into one nonetheless. Like he always does.

“I’ll think about it.” I grab my purse and walk out of the room, and like I do every single time I come to this house, I wish my dad was still here. Because despite what Bryce would have people believe, he was a brilliant, kind man, and even if we were completely destitute, he never would have asked me to do this.

“We have a meeting with their lawyers on Thursday,” Bryce calls after me. “I expect you to be there.”