I’ve always been a naturally quiet person. I’d much rather listen to people’s conversations than heavily engage in them. But no matter how quiet I typically am, I’m not usually so stunned I’m speechless.

Except right now.

I blink a few times, trying to figure out if all of this is some sort of nightmare. Maybe I’m still lying in bed dreaming, with Blake lying next to me. Not even realizing I’m doing it, I slide my hand to the side of my leg and pinch my thigh.

No. I’m definitely awake because that hurt.

I swallow slowly, trying to work out what’s going on. My dad and Archer both stare at me expectantly, just waiting for whatever I have to say.

My mouth feels dry from nerves as I open it to speak. “What? I’m not getting married to anyone.”

Archer has the nerve to smirk. He actually smirks. A smirk shouldn’t be so cold and calculating, but his is. It sends shivers down my spine.

I pinch myself one more time to double-check if this is real.

“You won’t be getting married to just anyone. You’ll be marrying me. Tomorrow.” He says the words so matter-of-factly, like it’s common knowledge that we’re supposed to exchange vows.

A choking sound comes from my throat, one that earns me a dissatisfied scowl from my dad. “Tomorrow?” I manage to get out, even though my throat feels like it’s clogged and I’m beginning to feel dizzy.

What is even happening? My family hates the Moores. There’s no way my father would let me marry Archer. He’s been wanting me to marry strategically from the moment I started dating. This can’t possibly be the match with his stamp of approval.

I wait for a few moments for one of them to elaborate on their own, but they don’t. Instead, I suck in a deep, shaky breath, attempting to get myself together. My vision blurs, and my face feels hot, and all I can do is hope neither one of them catches on to the fact I feel like I might pass out. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. I thought I was here to talk about Blake. What does me marrying Archer have to do with Blake?”

Archer’s fingers twitch in his lap the moment I say his name. From the corner of my eye, I see his broad shoulders rise and fall with an annoyed sigh. “I was expecting you to tell her about the arrangement before I showed up,” he rants. The look he gives my father across the desk is scathing.

My father doesn’t look deterred by the fire in Archer’s brown eyes. He manages to stay cool, keeping his face set in the same scowl that’s been on it from the moment I walked in the door. “She was late, you were early. I didn’t have the time.” My dad’s eyes bounce to me for a moment. He doesn’t bother to hide the disappointment in them.

I never talk out of turn to my dad. I’ve known the rules from a young age. I do what he tells me to, and everything runs smoothly. Except right now, I’m so desperate to figure out what’s happening that I can’t help but question him. “Dad, what’s going on? I’m not marrying him. I don’t understand.”

“You’ve given me no choice!” he snaps, his voice booming. I hope Archer doesn’t see the way my body jolts at my father’s raised voice. My father’s chair falls backward as he quickly stands up, his body curling over the large desk so he can get closer to me.

Archer reaches out and places his hand on the armrest of my chair…almost protectively as my dad continues to get so upset with me a large vein pops up in the center of his forehead. “Because you were fucking stupid to get involved with one of my employees—someone you knew I’d never approve of—I’m now backed into a corner with no other options.”

I hold my tongue, knowing it won’t do me any good to talk back to him.

What I want to say is he puts every single employee through an extensive background check. While I knew it wasn’t a great idea to date someone under the family’s employment, I never could’ve imagined Blake doing something like this.

“Can you tell it’s me?” I ask softly, not wanting to know the answer. “It was…dark,” I finally get out. My mind goes to last night, even though now everything is tainted with what Blake did with our night together. “I didn’t see any cameras. He didn’t tell me. Isn’t that illegal?”

Archer moves so stealthily I don’t think my father even realizes that he’s grabbed my chair and is slowly inching it closer to him. Is he trying to protect me? I stare at him in shock, trying to understand what is going on.

Our chairs are almost so close that I could reach out and loop my arm through his if I wanted. I don’t want to, but I can’t get over the soft gesture in the moment of my father’s fury.

“Don’t you think I’ve already thought of that?” my dad spits. He picks up the chair from the ground and falls into it with a thud, a look of defeat on his face. “Trust me. I’ve looked. My people have looked. He had a hidden camera—and you can tell it’s you. If we take it to the police, the media will have a hold of it in an instant.”

My eyes close in shame. I never gave Blake my permission to record us. My skin crawls with the knowledge this video even exists. That he recorded it without telling me. He took something that we’d waited months for, something that was supposed to be special, and made it into this.

Archer clears his throat before sitting forward. The new position puts him even closer to me. I try to move, but he just keeps his thigh pressed there. I wonder if he realizes that he’s pinning it against mine. If it’s his odd way of comforting me.

But why would he? He doesn’t know me. We don’t owe each other anything. Yet he’s sitting next to me, his thigh pinned to mine, acting like maybe he’s on my team in this.

“No one touches my family,” Archer begins.

I can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. My cheeks are still heated from embarrassment. How many people have seen what was supposed to be a private moment between Blake and me? I don’t think I want to know the number. All I know is I don’t want that video to be seen by anyone else.

“That has nothing to do with me,” I tell him, still staring at my lap—at where our legs are pushed against one another.

“Actually…it has everything to do with you. If you’re my wife, Blake won’t release that tape. He’s clearly dumb. But he isn’t that dumb. My family has connections with every single publication with any kind of audience. They know that we’d eviscerate them if they posted anything negative about anyone in the family—that includes my new wife.”

I struggle to even find words to respond to this ridiculous plan. My chest feels heavy with anxiety as my life seems to fall apart around me, all because I trusted the wrong man. I shake my head softly. “We can’t just get married tomorrow to fix this problem.”

Archer quirks a dark eyebrow. “Of course, it fixes the problem. When you’re my wife, no one will touch what’s mine. I’d dare him—or anyone—to try.” The light from my father’s floor-to-ceiling office windows pours in, hitting his dark hair perfectly. The strands are dark, but not dark enough to look black. It’s a mix between brown and black. Like the dark color of the wood of my favorite piano as a child.

My stomach lurches at his words. When you’re my wife. I can’t just be his wife. I haven’t wanted to be anyone’s wife. I’ve turned down plenty of men in this world because I wasn’t interested in becoming somebody’s trophy wife. I’m not going to start with him, even if he does have a point.

It’s starting to make sense why my father would reach out to the one family he cannot stand. He knows the power they yield. No one dares to go against the Moores. They’re too powerful. Too cutthroat. And right now, that might be the only thing to get me out of this mess with a shred of dignity.

I look to my father to gauge his reaction. I know he doesn’t want our name to be ruined, but I also know enough about the people in this business to know the Moores had to have asked for a lot to come to this agreement. Archer is in the same position as me. He could marry for more power. I can’t be his first choice. Quite frankly, I feel like I’m probably his last.

“What are you giving them in return?” I blurt, my hand coming to my mouth once I realize I asked the question out loud.

Archer catches my attention by letting out a low chuckle. I look over at him, finding him staring right at me with a hint of a smile on his lips. I didn’t ask him; I asked my dad what he gets out of this. Even so, Archer is the one to answer. “A lot,” he answers smugly, zero remorse in his tone. “The Moores will now be an active member on the Bishop Hotels board. We’ll also now own thirty percent of everything.”

A small gasp falls from my lips as my eyes dart to my father’s. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll talk to Blake. I’ll make him change his mind and give me the video.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” my dad interrupts, his nostrils flaring angrily.

Archer pulls his legs together as he sits up higher in his chair. Our thighs no longer touch, and I try not to think too hard into why it feels cold from the loss of connection.

My eyes focus on my dad as I try to plead my case with him. “It could work. Maybe something happened, and if I just talk to him and see what that is, he’ll change his mind…” My words don’t come out as confident as I intend them to. I have no idea what Blake would do if I spoke to him. He isn’t the man I thought he was. Not if he’s doing this. But it doesn’t hurt to try before having to resort to marrying a man I was raised to hate.

Archer gives one shake of his head. “No.” He lets the word hang in the air between us for a moment. I’m sure he’s used to people listening to him without any explanation. He’s the only child of Timothy and Penelope Moore. He’s the heir to the entire company. His entire life, he’s probably been told how important he is. How much power he’ll wield one day. It only makes sense that he knows how to command an entire room with just one single word.

But I’m not just anyone. I’m a hopeless romantic. One who always wanted to marry for love. To be loved intensely and fiercely. And because of that, I have to find another way to solve the problem I created that doesn’t involve marrying Archer Moore.

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