Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Eileen met my eyes, turning serious. Her manicured fingers sank into the red velvet of the upholstered seat she occupied.
We were both trying to share a tender moment.
And failing miserably.
She fidgeted a bit. “I always listened, because I knew they both wanted us to marry each other one day.”
Silence crackled between us.
Filled with tension and trepidation.
My meeting with Eileen Yang was always destined to happen. Now that it did, we had a decision to make.
In our circles, people frowned upon lengthy dating periods. Loyalty, commitment, and preservation of bloodlines mattered most.
“I will never love you.” I rested my ankle on the opposite knee, lounging back in my seat. “And I will never touch you, either. Not to kiss you at the altar. And certainly not to impregnate you. In fact, it’s unlikely that I’ll ever feel comfortable enough to hug my own spawn.”
Not true, I reminded myself. Not if Farrow cures you.
Maybe one day—far, far, far down the line—I’d feel comfortable enough to hold my future spawn’s hand when we crossed the street.
“Affection does not…” I cleared my throat. “…come naturally to me.”
As I said the words, violent flashes of memories attacked me.
Burnt flesh.
Blood everywhere.
Screaming.
The scent of seared skin assaulting my nose.
Dad, Dad, Dad.
This was why I needed to put up with Octi. To fix the damage Dad had left behind.
Eileen nodded, staring at her hands. Her fingers tangled with one another. Long and narrow, like the rest of her bone structure.
We’d make fine-looking children, no doubt. And they wouldn’t be dumb. Always a nice bonus.
“I want to try sex.” She peered around as if someone could pick up her whisper without piercing her personal bubble. “See if perhaps it could grow on me with time.”
“You still can.” I pushed the saucer in. “As long as you’re discreet, I don’t mind if you take on a cinq-a-sept lover. Provided he or she is willing to sign all the necessary paperwork.”
I refused to be a laughingstock, but I didn’t expect my future wife to sit around cross-legged, just to appease my phobias, either.
Eileen tapped a beat on her knee. I found that little quirk annoying.
I wondered if Farrow had quirks, too. If so—what were they? Nothing would surprise me. Including killing puppies.
“I’m okay with that. Does that mean…?”
I nodded. “Insemination. If we decide to sign this deal.”
She sighed, nodding to herself. “This is actually very comforting. Sex was the one thing that always stood in my way of starting a family. Every time I tried to date, I’d end up tumbling into bed and stopping before we actually did it. Regardless of how intellectually attracted I was to him, it never felt like what my sister described. It felt… almost nonconsensual.”
“Well, this won’t be an issue for us, because I don’t want your body.”
She divided a mooncake in perfect quarters with the tine of her fork. “Then, what do you want?”
“Your cooperation. For you to co-parent my children. Wear my ring. Stand by my side during social functions. We can be cordial. Friendly, even. After all, we’ll have much to share—children, goals, wealth, power.”
Eileen smoothed her dress. “Just not love.”
I nodded.
She drew in a breath.
Did she have to breathe so loudly? How did she expect me to tolerate her existence when everything she did got on my nerves?
“Are we actually considering this?” Eileen asked, re-tucking her hair behind her ears. “I mean… forgive my directness, but should two people this fucked up reproduce, anyway? I know we look good on paper…”
“But paper is just a paper,” I finished for her. “Easily destroyed.” I’d contemplated this before and came to the same conclusion every time. “My children won’t be miserable. I’m like this because my circumstances made me like this. Take away those circumstances, and I’d be as horny as every other sleazeball in this country.”
Eileen winced at the crass words. “And we take this secret to the grave?”
“Does it matter? Most marriages in this tax bracket are a contract between two acquaintances who once upon a time enjoyed screwing one another. If anything, since the only exchange of bodily fluids will happen in a medical setting, we’ll be the least filthy couple in this town.”
She nodded, pushing back her shoulders. “I want to continue working.”
It felt too soon to lay down her terms and conditions. At the same time, it was exactly what I’d craved.
Someone who saw marriage as a business opportunity.
Eileen pushed away her plate, getting down to business. “I love my work. I know my mom told yours that I want a sabbatical—”
“Work as much as you want.” I raised one palm up, stopping her from launching into a speech. “With the exception of the last trimester of your pregnancies. My heirs must be taken care of and arrive in Like New condition.”
This was the only part of reproducing that actually made sense to me. Creating a genetically superior workforce from scratch to continue my business after I croaked.