The next morning at breakfast, I was on my own. Maria, Angel's housekeeper, dotted all over me. She had missed me and was determined to go show it by giving me the biggest selection of breakfast treats to choose from. She had prepared enough food to feed an army, but Angel had been a no show. I barely made a dent.

I hadn't been able to sleep much. Angel had affected me more than the Vincents. He had a way of getting under my skin like no one else could.

But I couldn't avoid Angel as I was hoping he had figured out a way to save me from being handed over like an object to a bunch of gangsters who only knew cruelty. The brief thought gave me a shiver down my spine, and that was enough for me to push back my chair to go in search of him.

I hadn't seen him since the night before and I was nervous to see if he was still angry with me. I blew out the breath I had been holding as I neared his study. Outside the door, I stood for a moment, gathering courage before I knocked.

"Come in." He was in his study.

Tentatively, I opened the door and peered inside, trying to gauge his features to see if I needed to keep my distance.

He had his back to me, so I entered the room, giving him space like you would a wild animal. He wore a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. I allowed myself to take in his powerful stance. I swallowed nervously.

He turned. It was difficult to read his expression.

"Are you able to keep the Vincents away from me?" I blurted out. It had been playing on my mind all night long. I hoped he had figured it out because I couldn't contemplate a situation where there wasn't a solution.

"I have. It's the only option we have."

That sounded so grave and final. His tone made me slightly more anxious.

"Surely it can't be that bad." I swallowed.

"It is what it is."

He was annoying. He talked in a way that gave little away.

"How about you share your idea and we decide from there?"

It couldn't be worse than being handed over to some thugs.

He studied me for a few moments. "Perhaps you should take a seat."

"Why do you always do that?" I said, feeling annoyed. "Why are you always telling me to sit down?" He always had this was of treating me like I was some child that needed to be told what to do all the time. I wished he would see me for the grown woman I had become.

He was making me angrier by the second.

"You're going to marry me."

At first I thought I had misheard him. "Did you say marry?" I spluttered.

When I realized I had heard him correctly, I laughed. "You can't be serious." I held my sides as I laughed even harder. It was the funniest thing he had ever said. I wiped the tears from my face.

It was his expression that made me falter. He wasn't smiling. In fact, he was scowling at me.

"You're not joking, are you?" I murmured, not sure I wanted anything to do with his only way out of our predicament now.

He shook his head.

I found the closest chair and sank down into it as I realized what that meant. Marry him. It felt so unreal, like I was waiting for someone to jump out and say "Gotcha". I could stop my mind from wondering to thoughts of what married couples did, and I swallowed.

"No." I whispered. "There is no way."

"Suit yourself. I'm not the one who needs saving," he said as he walked matter factly back to his desk and took a seat.

"It can't be the only way. There has to be something you haven't thought of..." I was in shock and for the life of me, I couldn't think of any alternative.

"How about you think about it and let me know what ideas you come up with because trust me, I've thought of all of them." The sarcastic edge of his tone riled me up.

"I don't want to marry you," I blurted out.

"The feeling is mutual," he said, like he was bored with this conversation already.

"Then why? I don't understand." I echoed, feeling like someone had yanked the rug from beneath my feet and I was still falling.

"This is about doing what is right and I can't, with a good conscience, hand you over to the Vincents no matter what it costs me." His words were precise.

As a little girl, I had always dreamed of getting married, but this is never how I imagined it going down. No rose petal in sight, no romantic burning candles, and no love of my life on a bended knee with a sparkling ring. There was no professing of love. Hell, we didn't even like each other.

"Are you serious?" I whispered, still hoping he was playing a horrible joke and he would tell me his actual idea, but his stone face didn't change and with every second that passed, I had to accept that he was serious.

"Dead serious."

"But... but..." My mind went blank.

He was watching me, and I felt like I was floundering.

"Is this really the last option?" There was a sense of urgency in my voice I couldn't disguise.

He nodded. "It's the only way."

Marriage? To him? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Memories of my drunken proportion came back to me in that moment to haunt me for a second time. There had been a time when the younger version of me had hoped he would fall in love with me and one day it would have led to marriage. None of my daydreams had conjured this up.

"As my wife, you will be untouchable. They wouldn't dare lay a finger on you." There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he spoke.

He was right, but to think I would have to take such a drastic step to keep myself safe seemed unreal, and I needed time to take it in.

"But I don't understand why you would do something like this... um, for me." He seemed committed to something huge for someone he had always treated like an annoyance. Why on earth would he do that? It made no sense.

It wasn't like he had been celibate over the years and it had made me take a step back each time there had been a new woman in his life. But all of those interactions had been fleeting, not one woman lasting longer than a few weeks.

He shrugged. "It's also a good business move."

"How so?" I asked, not sure I liked the idea that something that had held more of an emotional feeling for me was a business choice for him.

"Handing you over was never an option, and they knew it. They are trying to force a war between our families, and I won't allow them to bait me into bloodshed."

I had never even considered the bigger picture and now that he was revealing it; I wasn't sure I was going to have any choice but to go through with the mad idea of marrying Angel. Marriage was supposed to be based on trust and love, not hatred and desperation. Was it going to be doomed from the start?

"I tried the easiest option, and you put an end to that with your little strip show." The distaste was obvious in his features as his eyes rested on her.

"Well, maybe if I had known I was supposed to be dead, I wouldn't have done it." How on earth could he blame me when I had known nothing?

"I was unconvinced you would have complied if I had been honest with you."

"You think I'd rather become some object at the whim of the Vincents? Geez, you don't know me at all." I shook my head. Only someone with a death wish would have rather gone up against the Vincents.

I might be a tad dramatic, but I was not crazy or suicidal. Although if I was sane, I wouldn't even contemplate marrying someone I had held a secret crush for but who didn't feel the same about me. That was insane.

"So, how long do we do this for?" I asked.

It was better to be prepared so I could make sure I could get out unscathed.

He linked his hands. "Marriage to me is forever."

I was stunned. Like in forever, sickness and health, all of that. I felt winded.

"You can be serious." I stood. "We can even stand each other."

"Marriages based on love do not last." He sounded so cynical. He was stamping all over every fairytale happily ever after I had ever dreamed of.

"But we hate each other. How can you expect a marriage to last when I can't stand the sight of you?"

"How you feel is irrelevant. There will be no divorce."

His words made me want to rebel. How dare he say that my feelings didn't matter.