Liam The finalized contract arrives at the office on Wednesday. I read it again, note the
changes, particularly the addendum and the part about joint custody. Samantha says it
doesn’t mean much because judges often ignore custody agreements in prenups, but it’s
still a matter of principle. She has a point. Why give up early when the battle hasn’t even
started? I send detailed instructions to Frederich to transform my house into our home—for
me and Olivia. Emmie runs her eyes down my list. They get wider and wider. “Is there
enough time to make all these changes?” I laugh softly. In her early twenties, she behaves
in ways that show how sheltered and easily impressed she is. Her aunt is the main
houseke eper at Grandfather’s place, and I hired her as my assistant a little over a year ago
because she’s enthusiastic and eager to learn. “Listen, you can always have two out of
three: good, fast, or cheap. I’m willing to pay for good and fast, and Frederich can work his
magic as long as he has my black card.” She shakes her head. “Wow. So when’s the
wedding?” “Friday.” I wanted to invite everyone, so everyone in the world could see Olivia
become my wife, but she doesn’t want anybody at the wedding. “It has to be a secret,” she
said. When I frowned, she quickly added, “But only until Saturday. Afterward, we can do
whatever you want— another grand ceremony, a rec eption... Please?” When she says please
with those soft, imploring blue eyes, I’m powerless to resist. Emmie squints at the STD
r eport from the lab on my laptop. “What’s that?” “For Olivia. My fiancée.” Although I’m
certain Simon is acting without her go-ahead, I don’t want there to be any doubt that I’m
physically healthy.
Eat your heart out, Simon Voss! Emmie’s voice rises. “What the hell?” I wince. “Emmie. I’m
right here.” “But who does she think she is?” She bristles. I give her a look. “She’s the
soon-to-be Mrs. Liam Kingswood.” She backs off, pouting slightly. My tone might’ve been a
little harsh. But I don’t want her to cross a line she shouldn’t because I failed to set clear
expectations. That bastard Simon can be snarky with me, but nobody gets to bad-mouth
Olivia. “It just seems so... rushed, though,” Emmie says, slightly subdued. “No need to get
me a gift,” I say, raising a hand magnanimously. “Don’t worry. I don’t buy gifts for weddings
I’m not invited to,” she says, and I know we’re back to being okay. “So did you find a ring
for the ceremony?” I nod with a smile, thinking of the ten-carat blood-red diamond from the
lab. Red is the rarest color for a diamond, and nearly impossible to create consistently even
in a controlled lab setting. Kingswood Stones & Designs is the only place that can, which
gives me immense pride and joy. And I want the greatest red stone, the one we dubbed “the
Rubedo,” to sparkle on Olivia’s finger. I gesture at the item. “That.” Her jaw hangs loose.
“You’re giving her the Rubedo?” “Y ep.” “Holy shit. You even turned down Barron Sterling
when he asked to buy it. Is she really worth—” Emmie catches herself. “My fiancée is worth
it and more,” I say softly. Emmie’s concern is understandable, though. Since she was hired,
she’s never seen me date anybody. To her, Olivia is just some random woman who popped
into my life, like an alien crash-landing in my backyard from Mars. But nothing less than the
Rubedo will do, since I can’t get a yellow starburst in time. Stones that big take months. I
might have one grown for our first anniversary, or the birth of our first child. I should also
instruct the lab to create something amazing for the baby. Maybe a gorgeous blue diamond,
about three or four carats, nothing too crazy, but appropriately precious. The stone should
carry all my anticipation and love for the baby, who’ll eventually grow up to know that I was
pr eparing for its arrival even before it was conceived. On Thursday, I receive a text from
Olivia.
–Olivia: The wedding is at the courthouse at 3 p. m. tomorrow. Prescott managed to get a
commissioner to agree to officiate. We need to arrive by 2:30 to get our marriage license
first, though. –Olivia: Sorry for the short notice.: frown-emoji: I almost chuckle at the
chagrined tone. Short notice? It’s been twelve years since I first “noticed” her and nearly
swallowed my tongue. –Me: That’s fine. Jeremiah’s going to want to be there. I promised
her on Saturday that I’d send her an invite to my wedding. Will that be a problem? If so, I
can just pretend it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. –Olivia: You think she’ll buy that when
Prescott’s going to be a guest at the wedding? –Me: Probably not. She’s too smart. Besides,
there’s no way she won’t piece things together with her working in the same firm as
Prescott. –Olivia: We can invite her. I don’t want you in her debt for anything. –Me: Thanks.
–Olivia: She might not even come. It’s less than twenty-four hours’ notice. –Me: True. Aren’t
you lucky I’m the boss? I can take time any day for you. –Olivia: Thank you, but sometimes
you’re too accommodating. –Me: You’re going to be my wife in less than twenty-four hours.
You should expect nothing less. –Olivia: You’re going to spoil me, Liam. –Me: Can’t think of
anything better to do with my life. I take the entire day off on Friday. So many last-minute
things to check before her arrival. Frederich puts up with me all morning, then finally gives
me a withering look. “I do happen to know what I’m doing. This isn’t the first time I’ve had
to welcome an important guest—or, in this case, a spouse— on short notice.” “Yeah, but you
don’t know her like I do.” “You make it sound like we’re about to welcome the Pope.”
I just shake my head. “You’ll see what I mean when you meet her. She’s amazing. Being
with her is like... like basking under a sun-drenched sky.” Frederich looks mildly nauseated.
“I hope you’ll have the good sense to be drunk if you say things like that in public.” I laugh,
then check my reflection again. My hair is perfectly styled, and my face actually seems to
glow. The bespoke tux is spotlessly elegant. So what if it’s a courthouse wedding? I want to
look my best, show her I’m taking our marriage seriously. The single white ranunculus
boutonnière pinned to my lapel looks fantastic, and the white dahlias from the cutting
garden tied in a trailing white satin ribbon are perfect. Doesn’t matter what she wears to
the ceremony—no matter what she’s in, she’ll look gorgeous holding the bouquet. “Your
brothers will murder you for not inviting them,” Frederich observes. “You mean you want to
murder me for not inviting you.” “Perish the thought.” I shake my head with a scoff, then
hug him tightly just because. He stiffens in my arms, then slowly relaxes. I give him a
couple of manly slaps on the back. “You’re the man, Frederich.” “Yes, Liam, I know.” He
pulls away. “I’ll hold down the fort for you and deal with your brothers, should they find out.
Or your grandmother.” I grin. “Knew I could count on you.” “Always.” The drive to the
courthouse takes about thirty minutes, but I give myself an extra fifteen minutes just in
case. I hum along with “Cheek to Cheek” from the sound system. I danced to it with Max at
Rhys’s wedding. It’s a sweet tune, but not right for Olivia. I want a special song for our first
time as husband and wife, even if it is a courthouse wedding with only our lawyers
witnessing the union. I arrive ten minutes early. Olivia shows up shortly thereafter and my
heart jumps into my throat. Good God. I thought I took pains, but look at her. She’s all I’ve
ever dreamed of, walking up in a sleeveless white silk dress that reaches her ankles. The
top of her cleavage peeks out above a square neckline trimmed with some bridal-looking
floral lace. She’s pulled back a section of hair from each temple and braided them, with
little
tendrils framing her face. The rest cascades down her back like spun night sky. A wide
smile splits her stunning face, a rose blush in her cheeks and a hint of shyness in her eyes
glimmering underneath her calm façade. In her hand is a bouquet of pink and orange roses.
They don’t really seem to suit her, but maybe she likes those colors. I glance down at the
superfluous white flowers I brought. Sorry, guys. Guess there’s no place for you at the
ceremony. Maybe I should’ve texted first to see what her plans were. “Hi, Liam,” she says,
her voice slightly breathless. “Hello, beautiful. You look...” I can’t think of a better word. “...
beautiful.” “Thank you.” The flush in her cheeks de epens. “When you stare at me like that, I
feel like a bride.” Not just any bride, but the most adored bride in the world. I swallow the
words because she won’t want them. At least not right now. It’s too soon. “You’re so fancy
in your tux.” Olivia glances down. “Do you think I look okay like this?” “Not okay. Perfect.”
She could show up wearing a trash bag and still be perfect. Her eyes drop to the flowers.
“Are those for me?” “Yeah. For the ceremony.” I clear my throat awkwardly. “I wasn’t sure
if you were bringing your own.” She takes the white dahlias, studying the fresh blossoms as
pleasure unfurls in her eyes. “They’re stunning, absolutely gorgeous.” She exhales as she
narrows her gaze at the roses. “I don’t want to throw these away since Simon had to rush to
grab them, but I can only have one bouquet...” She pulls her lips in, as though greatly
conflicted. I make a show of thinking to try to hide my satisfaction. Don’t want her to get
the impression that I’m being unkind to that officious waste of space. “Hmm... Why don’t we
give the roses to the clerk who processes our marriage license?” She brightens
immediately. “Great idea!” We head to the clerk’s section. Janice, the name reads. She has
the forlorn appearance of a basset hound who’s been neglected for too long. Her dull dark
eyes say she isn’t having a great day, and not even Friday afternoon can cheer her up.
“Hi, Janice. These are for you,” Olivia says, presenting her with the flowers. She blinks and
presses a hand with short unpainted nails to her chest. “For me?” More blinking.
“Because... why?” “Because you’re processing our marriage license,” Olivia says. “Everyone
deserves to have a great day,” I add, especially on a day like today, when even the sun is
shining brighter. “Well, thank you! These are lovely!” She buries her face in the roses, then
lifts her head. A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. I blink, surprised at how she
transforms from sad basset hound into perky border collie in an instant. “Let me just take
your information.” Janice clacks away, chatting amicably about what a crappy day it’s been
until now. Apparently, her boyfriend forgot her birthday. “It’s not like this is the first year
we’ve been dating.” “Happy birthday. I would’ve never forgotten,” I say with all the
sympathy in the world. Being overlooked by people is something I’m familiar with. “Your
boyfriend doesn’t deserve you.” “Right? Didn’t even bother to text. Who does that? It’s like
love is over.” “Maybe he’s planning a surprise,” Olivia says. Janice snorts. “He isn’t that
devious. Just senile before his time. Forgot his suit for a friend’s wedding, and he was the
best man.” She shakes her head, then indicates me with a tilt of her chin. “Not like this one.
Shows up in a tux just for the marriage license.” “We’re having the ceremony right after
this,” I clarify with a grin. “Well, congratulations. Have a happy marriage. You make a
lovely couple.” “Thank you,” I say. Olivia smiles, her blushing face half-hidden in the
dahlias. With the freshly printed marriage license in my breast pocket, I turn to Olivia. “We
now have everything, exc ept for one thing.” “What?” “A ring.” I glance down at her finger,
where the ugly solitaire still occupies the space it doesn’t deserve. “That’s just so pathetic,”
I mutter. She shrugs. “It’s just some cheap junk, nothing important. Tyler needed to create
an appearance.”
“I’m sure.” What I wouldn’t give for a chance to kick his ass... I pull it off her finger,
resisting the urge to toss it. “No,” she says, reading my mind. “I should return it to him.”
She extends her hand, palm up. “Okay.” But I hate it that it’s touching her again. She gives
me a small pat on my chest, then drops the ring into her purse. I take her left hand in mine,
then pluck the Rubedo out of my pocket. Set on a simple platinum band, the round
brilliant-cut red diamond sparkles under the light like crimson fire. I slide it onto her
now-empty finger, where it belongs. It looks even better than I imagined. The most stunning
stone my lab has ever created, gracing her finger, declaring to the world that she’s mine.
Sheer exhilaration makes me tremble slightly. Olivia lets out a soft gasp. “Oh my God, Liam.
This is too valuable.” I shake my head. “Nothing’s too valuable for you. You’re going to be
my wife in less than an hour.” “But...” She stares at the stone, undisguised conflict playing
out on her face. She can’t tear her eyes from it, but also feels like it’s too much for a
contract marriage. But to me, our marriage isn’t just a contract. The ring is my way of
expressing how much she means to me, the significance she holds in my heart and world,
something I don’t dare give voice to. She’s too skittish. “I don’t even know what to say,” she
whispers, finally lifting her eyes to meet mine. “Just say, ‘Liam, this is beautiful, and I love
it,’ and then enjoy the ring.” A helpless affection glows in her eyes. Before I can catch
myself, I press my forehead against hers. “Now we’re ready to become husband and wife,
Olivia.”