Chapter 6 6

Julian Vance's office was a study in minimalism. Steel, glass, and grey leather. It was cold, precise, and intimidating.

Julian sat behind his desk. He was younger than Darian expected-maybe thirty-two. He had sharp features, dark hair, and eyes that looked like shattered ice. He wasn't handsome in the classic sense; he was striking. Intense.

"Ms. Klein," Julian said. He didn't stand up. "You have something for me?"

Darian sat down. She reached into her shoe and pulled out the USB drive. She placed it on the glass desk.

"Proof," she said. "Charles Enterprises engaged in market manipulation to bankrupt my father's company. It's all there."

Julian looked at the drive. He didn't touch it. "And what do you want in return? Money? A settlement?"

"I want a husband," Darian said.

Julian blinked. For the first time, his mask slipped. A flicker of amusement crossed his face.

"I'm flattered," he drawled. "But I'm not the marrying kind."

"I don't want a romance, Mr. Vance. I want a contract." Darian leaned forward. "I have a family trust. It unlocks upon marriage. It's worth a billion dollars. I need access to it to save my mother and to destroy Grant Charles."

"And what do I get?"

"You get half the liquid assets for your firm's expansion. And you get the satisfaction of watching Grant Charles burn."

Julian picked up the USB drive. He turned it over in his long fingers.

"Grant has been a thorn in my side for five years," Julian mused. "He poached my best litigator last month."

"He also thinks you're gay," Darian added. "Because you never bring women to events."

Julian laughed. It was a dry, rusty sound. "I'm not gay. I'm just picky. And busy."

He looked at Darian. He really looked at her. He saw the steel in her spine, the intelligence in her eyes.

"You're proposing a business merger," Julian said.

"Essentially."

"Clause 7?" Julian asked.

Darian's eyes widened. "How do you know about the Trust?"

"I'm a lawyer, Darian. I did my due diligence before you walked in the door." He stood up and walked around the desk. He leaned against the edge, crossing his arms. "I need a wife, too. My grandfather is threatening to hand the firm over to my cousin if I don't 'settle down' and improve my public image."

"So it's a win-win," Darian said.

"It's a risk," Julian corrected. "Grant will come for us. He's possessive. He'll try to ruin me to get to you."

"Let him try," Darian said.

Julian stared at her for a long moment. He picked up his desk phone and pressed a single button. "Sarah, get Judge Peterson on the line for me. Tell him I'm calling in that favor regarding a judicial waiver. Yes, it's an emergency." He hung up and turned back to Darian, his expression all business. Then, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a ring.

It wasn't a diamond. It was a band of twisted platinum with a sapphire the size of a quail egg.

"My grandmother's," Julian said. "I keep it in the safe for... emergencies."

He took Darian's left hand. His fingers were cool and dry.

"Darian Klein," Julian said, his voice mocking but his eyes serious. "Will you enter into this mutually beneficial, legally binding hostility pact with me?"

Darian looked at the ring. It was heavy. Real.

"I do," she said.

He slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

"Good," Julian said. "Now, let's go get dinner. I know a place where the paparazzi hang out. We need to make the front page by morning."