I have a plan.
First, I need an unlimited source of money.
Then, I’ll lay my trap.
I know exactly where I’m getting the money. Thank god I signed the prenup already.
“Good morning,” Waylon says as he enters my kitchen in his suit, already dressed to head into the office.
“Good morning,” I say as I hold my cup of coffee and stand at the counter.
Waylon comes over and kisses me softly on the cheek. Then he heads to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup in a travel mug.
“What do you have planned for today? Headed into the office?” he asks as he secures his coffee lid.
“No, the office is running smoothly, but I thought I’d get away for the weekend.”
Waylon freezes. He knows what that’s code for. We have an agreement, he and I. I have needs he can’t satisfy and vice versa.
He can fuck whoever he wants. I can do whatever I want. We live separate lives when we need to. Our future marriage is about mutual gain. It’s about helping each other with our careers, our image, our lives. And it’s about having a steady fuck in each other’s bed. It’s not real love, but it works for us. It’s a modern relationship that doesn’t hide the fact that one single person can’t possibly fulfill every single one of our needs.
It’s been a while since I tested the arrangement, though. Before, it was just a verbal agreement. Now that we are getting married—it’s a legal contract in our prenup.
“You’ll take Maxwell with you. That isn’t an option.”
I nod. “I agreed to security. You should have the guys over this weekend to keep you company while I’m away.” That’s my way of saying he should invite a whore over to fuck since I won’t be here.
Waylon walks over to me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Now that I’m running for governor, I shouldn’t be seen doing such things.”
His eyes bore into mine, letting me know that if I get caught, there will be consequences.
“Understood.” I nod back.
“You have to tell Nolan, though.” He steps back, leaning against the counter across from me.
“No way, you hired him. I’m not telling Nolan.”
“He’s my campaign manager. He needs to know your whereabouts in order to protect the campaign from any misunderstandings that may happen.”
I glare at Waylon. “I signed an agreement with you. There is nothing in it that says I have to be the one to arrange things with your employee. You deal with him.”
Waylon grins. “There is the woman I love. You know how much I enjoy your fiery spirit.”
“I’ll see you Monday. Take me out to dinner before the campaign event on Tuesday.”
“I have the perfect place.”
We exchange words back and forth with our eyes. Promises. Threats. Arrangements.
Our entire conversation is in code. Langston won’t know what we are talking about. And he definitely won’t know what we aren’t saying with our eyes and bodies.
But we know.
I nod.
Then, Waylon comes over and kisses me on my forehead. “I look forward to our dinner.”
I swallow hard, before forcing my body to breathe.
I’m doing this to keep control, to earn unlimited amounts of money. Waylon may not be perfect, but he’s not the devil. That label belongs to Langston.
There is a knock at the door. Waylon heads to the door and answers it.
“Come in, Maxwell. Liesel is almost ready. It seems you will be headed on a nice weekend trip.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And let me remind you if anything happens to Liesel or if her identity gets out, it will be you whom I take my wrath out on.”
“Understood, Mr. Brown.”
Waylon looks back and winks at me before he heads out to work.
“Where are we going?” Maxwell asks me as he enters my kitchen.
“Straight to hell.”
I pull my silver mask down over my face as Maxwell parks the car in front of Pier 40 at Hudson River Park.
“You sure about this, Liesel?” Maxwell asks with uncertainty in his voice.
I take a deep breath as I stare at the yacht tied to the pier. I hate the damn ocean. It reminds me too much of my past. Langston will always have the advantage on the water, but this weekend is about earning back power. And the only way to truly have power is with money. Once I have money, I’ll be back on equal footing with Langston.
“Yes,” I answer, stepping out of the car.
Maxwell steps out as well with his own mask on. He’s in a tux, and a black mask covers his sculpted face, but it doesn’t make him any less intimidating. He extends his arm to me, so we look like a couple as we walk up the ramp to the yacht.
I’m wearing a long dark wig to cover my blonde. That, combined with the mask and my bare ring finger, will mean no one will have a clue who I am here. That is unless Langston decides to make an appearance. I could wear a full prosthetic, don a wig, disguise my voice, and he’d still know it was me. Our connection is too intense for him to not recognize when I’m in the same city, let alone the same yacht as him.
“Nervous?” Maxwell asks as we walk up the ramp.
I nod. I’m nervous, but not for the reasons Maxwell thinks. I’m not nervous about what I plan on doing tonight or about getting caught. I’m nervous to see Langston tonight and what that could possibly mean.
“Don’t be. My only job is to protect you and your identity. I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry about that. I won’t let any man hurt you or even lay a finger on you unless you want them to.”
“Thank you,” I say with a weak smile. I truly think Maxwell might be the only good person in all of this, but he’s no match for Langston. If Langston wants to hurt me, Maxwell won’t be able to
