"So... my father's name is Jackson." Elijah swallows hard. Not sure what to do with this information. "Where is he? Why hasn't he come to see me?"
"I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that." I sigh.
"What do you mean?"
"I was married to him for two years. When grandpa died, I dropped out of school and your father wasn't very happy with me. So, he left me for another woman."
Elijah nods in understanding, but I can still see the questions in his eyes.
"He left me for my sister, Mary. Your aunt. And now they have a family together."
"Well, what about us? Aren't we his family too?"
"Yes, but... he doesn't know about you." I tell him. A ten-thousand-pound weight suddenly lifting off my chest.
"What do you mean?" He frowns.
"He left me before I knew I was pregnant, and when I found out, I... I didn't tell him."
A look of betrayal etches across Elijah's face as he stares at me with disbelief.
"So, all this time I thought he didn't want me... he didn't know about me?" His eyes redden with tears.
Getting up from the table, he storms out of the room. And moments later, his muffled cries can be heard through the door, causing my heart to constrict.
I'm a horrible mother.
What started out as me wanting to protect my son from my family of vultures has backfired. And it breaks my heart to know I've hurt Elijah inadvertently.
He deserves better from me.
My cell rings in my purse and I pull it out. I'm instantly annoyed by the name I see on the caller ID, but I answer it anyway.
"Just because I agreed to treat your father's illness doesn't mean you can call me whenever you feel like it." I sigh into the phone. Pinching the bridge of my nose out of frustration.
I knew this was a bad idea.
"Hello, Ms. Graham, my name is Winston, and Mr. King has a car waiting for you outside." An unfamiliar voice with a British accent tells me. Ignoring my words. "Bring your son if you'd like, but Mr. King told me to inform you that his father's treatment starts today."
I'm already regretting this.
"What part of not pressuring me does he not understand?"
"If you're really trying not to feel pressured, I'm afraid that ship has sailed."
"What do you mean?" I frown.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you haven't gone anywhere today, turned on the television, or listened to the radio." He sounds amused.
"No. Why?"
"No reason."
He sounds suspicious, so I walk over to my front door and open it. When I do, flashes of light erupt all over the place. Blinding me. Followed by reporters shoving microphones in my face, while simultaneously trying to push their way into my home. It takes every ounce of strength I have to close the door again and lock it.
"What the hell is happening?!" I shout into the phone. My nerves now a frazzled mess.
"Well... there are photos of you and Mr. King circling the web." He sighs. "Photos of the two of you having dinner with your family. And now the world believes you are dating."
"But we're not."
"Yes, I know. But they don't know that. They believe you've brought him to meet your family and the relationship is quite serious."
"Well, can't someone issue a statement or something?" My stomach twists in knots.
My face being all over the internet is the exact opposite of keeping a low profile.
"I'm afraid it's not that simple. They may ask questions we'd rather not answer. Besides, we have a proposal for you."
I bet.
I don't want anything to do with Alexander and his damn proposals.
"It better be good?" I groan.
"It will be." He laughs lightly. "Bring your son Elijah and get in the car waiting for you outside. Everything will be explained to you when you arrive here."
Without waiting for me to reply, he hangs up the phone like he knows I'm just going to do whatever he says. And after giving it much thought, I retrieve Elijah from his room, throw a blanket over our heads, then hold onto him as we make a run for it to the car waiting outside.
"Where are we going?" Elijah asks once we're in the car. "Whose car is this? And why is everyone taking pictures of us?"
"Alexander's." I flash him an apologetic smile. "And those are reporters. They think he and I are dating."
"Cool." He nods. Basking in the attention. But his smile is gone for the time being.
Not that I blame him.
He needs time to process what I told him.
He needs time to forgive me for not telling him who his father is sooner.
Still, cracks form in my heart where Elijah's concerned. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me.
Hands down.
"Whoa." Elijah gasps half an hour later. Gawking out the window.
Following his gaze, I set eyes on one of the most beautiful, luxurious, sprawling, period mansions I've ever seen. It has to be worth upwards of twenty million dollars. Especially in this neighborhood.
Elijah couldn't wait to get out of the car, and he beats me to Alexander's front door. Pounding on it until a member of the house staff answers it and lets us inside.
The inside of the home is even more beautiful than the outside. Featuring floor to ceiling windows that pan out to show off a beautiful view, mansion weave wooden flooring, and rooms full of expensive furniture.
***
Like clockwork, and forever prompt, Evelyn and her son arrive at my family's compound.
Though, I'm temporarily distracted by how heavenly she looks in the white off the shoulder baby doll dress she's wearing. From where I'm standing, she looks like a fucking angel.
"Good morning, Miss Graham." Another member of my house staff greets her while I watch from the security camera on my phone. "Right this way please."
She and Elijah follow him through a series of halls, doors, and then a small set of stairs. Beyond it, are two French doors that my house staff pushes open to reveal my very beautiful but no-nonsense mother, Gillian, with me sitting beside her. Holding her hand and hoping to make her feel better.
After taking her in, my mother squeezes my hand to give me her approval. Nodding to my father's caregiver who retrieves what she needs from my father's desk.
I stand to greet Evelyn and her son. Motioning to Vicky who smiles as she approaches them, grabs a stunned Elijah's hand, and carts him away before Evelyn can object. Now she and I are alone with my mother, and no more distractions.
"Before we get started, there are just a few things we must discuss." My mother directs her into an adjoining office. Motioning to a chair on the other side of the only desk in the room. A large darkly stained wooden desk in the shape of a 'U'. There are bookshelves, file cabinets, and a credenza in the same dark stain as the desk, placed neatly around the room. And there's not a speck of dust in sight. The entire house is completely sterile and immaculate.
Exactly how I like it.
Sitting on the opposite side, next to my mother, I slide a stack of legal forms over to Evelyn's side of the desk. Then I press the intercom button to summon Judy into the room.
She appears moments later carrying, coffee, pens, and an elaborate tray of breakfast foods.
"What is all this?" Evelyn frowns. Confused.
She looks both nervous and annoyed.
I know the feeling.
I don't know how she's going to respond to my mother's proposal. I didn't even know how to respond when my mother broached the subject with me. But unlike Evelyn, I don't have a choice. As my father's chosen heir apparent, I must do what is expected of me. Never what I want. It's been grounded and instilled in me since I was a child.
"Before you begin treatment for my husband, we need you to sign a nondisclosure agreement." My mother tells her. And I notice the surprised look on her face that lasts for a millisecond before her guard goes up and she slips into a mask of indifference. "My husband is the face of a multi-billion-dollar empire. There are those who would use his sickness for their own financial gain. So, for obvious reasons, we cannot allow that to happen. Hence the need for your discretion. At least until he is cured."
"I understand." She nods. Having recovered from the initial shock. Carefully, she reads over the NDA before placing it back down in front of her.
"Now for our proposal." My mother motions to Judy.
She hands my mother another contract, and she slides it over to Evelyn.
"What is this?" Evelyn frowns. Her eyes skimming over the same words my mind refused to comprehend.
Her reaction isn't much different.
"It's a contract." Judy smiles. Handing her a pen.
"I can see that. But what is it for?"
"Thanks to Alexander's little impromptu cameo at your family gathering, I'm afraid your life will never be the same again." Winston enters the room. Placing a hand on my shoulder and giving me a squeeze of his own in approval. "I am Winston, by the way. We spoke over the phone, and I've served Mr. King for most of my life. A servitude that trickles down to Alexander. Which brings us here. Just think of me as Mr. Fix It. If something is broken... I fix it."
"Like Olivia Pope fix it, or like Mr. Clean fix it?" Evelyn narrows her eyes at him. Her suspicions rising.
"Olivia Pope." He clarifies.
She swallows hard.
"Let me guess, you have a plan to fix the world assuming Alexander and I are seeing each other." She surmises.
"Yes." He smiles.
"Well, what's the plan?"
Both Winston and my mother look to me, and I take a deep breath. Bracing myself for her reaction. I'm halfway expecting her to shove this proposal back in my face and then make a run for the hills.
"The way we see it, there's only one way we can play this without raising everyone's suspicions." Winston preps her for the blow I'm about to deliver. Which, if I had my choice, I'd court her the old-fashioned way. But it's never mattered what I wanted. I'm always just expected to do what is best for the family. I don't have a say in my own future. Not after butchering it so eloquently once before.
"Marry me." I rip the Band-Aid off and blurt it out. There's no time to ease her into it because we're running out of time. And according to everyone around me, there's too much riding on this. "Temporarily, of course. And we'd compensate you well."
Reeling back, she's stunned.
Astounded even.
And she quickly goes pale.
"What?"
Her gaze briefly goes to Judy. Sizing her up, before she stares back at me.
"Please, Ms. Graham," Winston places his hand over hers to calm her down. And like she's been stung by a bee she snatches her hand away. "Before you answer, please hear us out."
"Okay." She swallows hard. Her complexion going almost as white as the paper the contract is written on.
We're losing her.
"Miss Graham, we want to capitalize on public speculation and use your alleged relationship with Alexander to one, hide the fact that you're treating his father. And two, secure his inheritance from his grandmother." My mother informs her. "No one can know of Abraham's condition. He has some very powerful enemies, greedy board members, and family members alike, who would use this health scare to take everything he owns."
"I can't do this." She quickly gets up from the table to leave.
And there she goes.
Winston firmly grabs her by the wrist to stop her. Allowing his desperation to show in his eyes. Because the future of our family hinges on her not passing up the opportunity she's so graciously placed in our laps.
This has to work.
"Evelyn, please." My mother is next to chime in. But I remain silent. "It won't be for forever and you'd be very well compensated."
Her gaze rockets to my mother's at the mere mention of compensation. Like she's offended anyone would ever assume she could be bought.
A tug of war takes place in her head before the devil on her shoulder (or curiosity) wins and she sits back down to hear us out. But we haven't won her over by far and only a fool wouldn't be able to see it. What, with her crossed arms, crossed leg bouncing over the other like she'd rather kick something or someone, and the attitude seeping from her pores.
"All you have to do is stay married to him for three years." Winston informs her.
"And give him a son." My mother adds.
Evelyn quirks a brow at that one. With a look that says it will be a cold day in hell before she ever bears one of my children.
And I find her annoyance with the situation fascinating.
I've spent most of my twenties thwarting one paternity scandal after another from girls wanting to level up in life. Now I'm finally offering that very thing to a woman, and she'd rather watch paint dry.
Add the fact that I seem to be thickening in my knickers, and she intrigues me even more.
Evelyn looks as if she's on the verge of passing out. So, I quickly add, "And then we can divorce, amicably. No hard feelings. I'll even make sure you receive a nice settlement, alimony, and joint custody."
Again, she rises from her seat, shaking her head.
I knew she wasn't going to go along with this. But we're desperate, and this was a shot in the dark. Because I fucked up royally and now this is how I must fix my mistake. By marrying someone I barely know. Someone who I'm not even sure even likes me.
Even though last I checked, I was easy on the eyes.
"This is crazy." She scoffs. Staring incredulously at us like we've all lost our minds. "I don't even like you," she glowers at me.
Well, there goes that.
"And being married to you... god forbid the poor girl who signs up for that headache. But it won't be me."
Ouch.
Evelyn rises from her seat again and heads for the door. Forcing my mother to use the only leverage we've got. And I hate that it's come to this.
Meanwhile, my todger has a mind of its own and her ire towards me has inspired a massive erection. Making me suddenly want nothing more than to conquer Ms. Graham in every way possible.
"We've done some digging into your background, Ms. Graham, and you have a very interesting situation with your son's father now being married to your sister." My mother pulls out her claws.
Evelyn stops cold and turns her icy gaze upon my mother.
If looks could kill my mother's entire lineage would suddenly drop dead.
Me included.
"My son tells me you've hidden the fact that you're a successful surgeon from your family. Am I wrong in assuming you'd like to keep it that way?" My mother continues.
She's playing with fire and the beauty standing mere feet from the door is the flame.
A raging fire now burns in Evelyn's eyes.
"Are you threatening me?" She asks.
"Of course not, dear. I'm simply asking you to consider our offer. And in exchange for accepting this very generous offer, we will keep your secrets too."
"This is blackmail."
"On the contrary... this is a negotiation." My mother says in her best saccharine sweet voice. "One where we all win."
Evelyn's gaze flickers from my mother's, to Winston's, and then back to me. She inhales deeply and slowly lets out an aggravated breath. We have her dead to rights, and she knows it. I see the moment the tide has turned in my mother's favor. Even before Evelyn asks...
"Three years?"
"Yes."
"And a son?" She mulls that over in her head.
Not liking that idea one bit.
"Yes." My mother nods.
Picking up the pen, she signs everything but the proposal and slides it back over to us.
"Ahem." Winston clears his throat and slides the proposal closer to her.
"About that," she sighs. "Can I have a few days to think about it?"
Interesting turn of events.
Even cornered she stalls us. And I'd be willing to bet it's so she can find a way out of this. But she won't be able to. My mother is efficient at what she does, and she never approaches a target without already having the kill shot.
"What is there to think about?" My mother stares incredulously at her. She's offering her the keys to the bloody world. "You would be a King, which means you'd have access to more money than you probably know what to do with, and you and your son will be set for life."
"There are more important things in life than money, Mrs. King. Not that you'd know how the rest of the world lives or even care." What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? "And there are just some things money can't buy."
"Like what?"
"Happiness." She levels her with a look.
My todger is practically bursting from my knickers at her display of strength.
Winston and I exchange impressed glances before my mother snatches up the paperwork and tucks it away into a locked drawer. Annoyed and in disbelief she would even consider turning her offer down. There are hundreds of thousands of women who would jump at the opportunity being afforded to her.
But not her.
"You should take the offer before it is off the table." My mother insists.
"Why? You have absolutely nothing I want to offer me in return."
She's certifiable.
And bloody fucking sexy when her claws come out.
"If not money, then what do you want?" My mother asks. As confused as I am.
"I just know there aren't enough zeroes in the world to make me ever consider being Alexander King's wife." She glowers at me. Deflating my ego, a bit.
Winston's eyebrows touch his hairline. Surprised by her response.
As does my mother's.