Chapter 33
I can’t hold back my indignant snort as I fold my arms across my chest. “You don’t say.
Η
Arthur doesn’t react to my quip, although I can see his eyes flash with annoyance. “I want to perform an official paternity test to determine for certain that Miles is my son,” he goes on. “If it is determined that he’s my son, which I’m fairly certain it will, then I’ll happily write you a check.”
My blood begins to boil. Here we go again–Arthur assuming that I only brought Miles here for inheritance money. But before I can bite out a retort, Arthur withdraws a check from his wallet and holds it up:
I can see.
“This will be the first check of many,” he says. “One hundred thousand Ordan dollars for your first year. This will, of course, coincide with your own house for you and Miles to live in, along with whatever expenses you may incur. I’d like to ensure that you are both comfortable and cared for until he’s at least of age.”
For a moment, I just stare at the check in shock. It’s almost entirely filled out–he just has to sign his name.
But I don’t want it. I never wanted any of this–the money, the house, the so–called ‘comfort. I only ever wanted a loving family, and Arthur stole that dream from me the day he made it so clear that he only saw me as a human mistress and nothing more.
“No,” I say, adjusting my purse on my shoulder and standing. “Keep your money. I don’t want it. Or need it, for that matter.”
dou
Arthur furrows his brow, as if he’s genuinely puzzled. “Then what do you want, Iris?”
“Nothing.”
“There must be something.”
Truthfully, I want to pick up the glass of water sitting on his desk and dump it over his head. But I restrain myself, and instead, something else comes to mind. I pull my shoulders back. “Fine. There is something you can do for me, actually.”
Arthur’s eyebrows lift in question, and I lean over his desk, placing my palms flat on the pristine surface. “Since you love paperwork so much, ask your legal team to draw up a contract for us.
“A contract?”
I nod and lean a little closer so that our faces are less than a foot apart now. Even now, the sensation of his warm breath fanning
across my face, smelling slightly of spearmint, nearly makes my knees wobble with the sort of excitement that can only be caused
by the proximity of one’s mate.
But I control myself and say, “I want the contract to state that you will not, under any circumstances, perform a paternity test.
And you will not try to take my son from me. You will relinquish any rights to parenthood, and you will stay the hell out of our
lives.”
The room is dead silent, as if even the clock and the city below are holding their breath. Arthur blinks up at me in surprise;
something about the look he gives me is satisfying, and I straighten, smugly glancing at the handprints I’ve left on that beautiful
1/2
+20 Bonus
glass desk of his.
“Why?” he finally says, rising from his chair. “Why would you want to raise a child on your own without any financial support? I’m offering you the world, Iris. Do you want a fucking mansion on the beach? White horses and limousines? Miles would want for nothing. All you have to do is ask ”
No, I think bitterly, my jaw clenching. He still wouldn’t have a father. Not one who would create a real, happy family with us.
No amount of money or things will ever make up for that.
When I remain silent, Arthur sucks in a sharp breath and says, “Fine, Five hundred thousand Ordan dollars a year. Is that enough
for you?”
Once again, the glass of water on his desk looks awfully inviting. My fingers itch toward it, begging to watch it soak through his expensive designer suit and ruin his perfectly–coiffed hair.
But once again, I restrain myself.
“I said this the other day, and I’ll say it again,” I manage through clenched teeth. “Fuck you, Arthur. Fuck you straight to hell, and stop fucking investigating me. I want nothing more to do with you‘
And with that, I turn and leave the office.
12
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