"Deceivers are the most dangerous members of society. They trifle with the best affections of our nature, and violate the most sacred obligations."

Morgan Ann Bennett

Malcolm wanted to get married right away. He shocked me when I asked about the wedding date and he told me it needed to be on his birthday.

"When's your birthday?" I asked him.

"February third." He let me know, not even meeting my eyes. I was glad he didn't look up at me because my jaw dropped.

"That's in five days!" I screeched. I already felt like the days were just flying by so the idea that in less than a week, I'd be Misses Jameson, scared the hell out of me.

"How are we going to plan a wedding that soon?" I wondered aloud, packing settling in my voice.

Malcolm slapped his palms on the table and exhaled. "We are not doing anything, darling. I hired someone. All you have to do is make sure you fit into that dress - it's an original."

"W-where did you get all this money from?" I had the nerve to ask. Sure he was rich but I remembered him losing money at a point, he even asked me for the car and some jewelry back.

He looked fed up with me but answered anyway.

"I'll have you know, darling, not only is The Q doing exponentially well, but I've made other smart investments and I came into some money. Our great great great grandkids won't want for anything, let's just say that."

"Our?" I choked.

"Well after we're married there's no use in us putting it off. My legacy, remember, I want to secure that. Oh. Don't look so sad, darling, we can use a surrogate if you're worried about your figure. Now come, we have to meet with my lawyer about some paperwork. If you want a piece of my fortune, you will sign these papers."

~~~

I just signed my life away. Paper after paper, so much wasted ink. I'm not stupid, though, I did read. Well, as much as I could read before Malcolm rushed his lawyers to move on, hurriedly flipping the pages my eyes lingered too long on parts that had my best interest.

Just to deter him, I said, "I don't know what any of this means so I can just sign it, right? I trust Malcolm." Lie.

Malcolm's smile was crooked. Devious. He shot a look at his lawyer — err, attorney, I guess. The men just cackled like there was an inside joke I wasn't a part of.

Knock. Knock.

"Mr.Fader," his assistant spoke up, entering the office. "Dan Scott is on the line insisting he talk to you now."

Mike Fader, the shady businessman, buttoned his suit upon standing.

"Excuse me for a moment, will ya?" He said directly to Malcolm and then walked out, cursing to his assistant about how needy this Dan Scott character is.

Not a minute later, Malcolm's phone was ringing. Sage, who kept Malcolm's personal belongings safe on his hip, read the caller ID.

He said, "Boss, it's Shawn Bowie calling."

Malcolm's eyebrows lifted as if the name had caught him by surprise. He shot his eyes to me and I narrowed my eyes on him, wondering what that look was for.

"Excuse me, darling." He cleared his throat and got up to snatch the phone from Sage's hands.

I couldn't hear the man on the other side but I listened to Malcolm speak into the phone - one of his burner phones at that.

"Are you handling that?" asked Malcolm, trying to whisper. "And Sabrina? How's she, doing what she's supposed to?"

Another one of his women on the side, I suppose. Quickly becoming uninterested, I turned in my seat like a child so I could curl up and stare out at the view.

The second the door closed I shifted on my bottom and made sure Sage went with Malcolm. Of course he did.

There was a thumping in my heart, adrenaline pumping as I wasted no time reading over the papers I had just signed. I needed to know exactly what they said. Hell, for all I know I agreed to having a toes cut off and made into soup whenever Malcolm snaps his fingers.

I was scared but tried to swallow my emotions and overactive imagination so I could sneak a peek at at least a few printed lines.

"—Once married, you and your spouse will collect shared assets known as joint or marital property, such as real estate, vehicles, and more, in addition to being entitled to a portion of each other's estate." I recited the words of the page aloud with enlarged eyes. Seemed like they grew or zoomed in the more I went on to read.

And there, under those very words, beside a small black 'X' was Malcolm's signature:

x 𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓶 𝓐𝓵𝓮𝔁𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓼𝓮𝓸𝓷

That raised the question, why would he be doing this? Surely he seemed like the kind to make me, or anyone, sign a pre-nuptial agreement. Otherwise, well, if he dies, his fortune is... all mine.

~~~
Two Years Ago

"—Thanks for dining with us; I hope y'all have a good night!" I used my bright smile on the group of five who had just finished their meals.

"Thanks." One man said.

They were a pretty decent group, nothing remarkable, but the biggest party I'd served all night and it was a Wednesday at Kitty's. What I mean is, it's a slow shift.

His friends followed him out of the booth and it made me happy to see they were all smiles on their way through the door.

I happened to snap my neck and see Kyle giving me a thumbs up. His satisfaction with my work ethic made me smile and feel good about myself.

I lifted my shoulders humbly and kept my lips sealed but upturned as I circled back to the very table my last party had just left.

Knowing I did a great job, I expected at least eighteen dollars, kind of having this down to a science since their bill came to about one hundred-twenty and they seemed to like me so eighteen bucks was reasonable - fifteen percent.

The joy was robbed from me when I found a handful of quarters waiting for me on the signed copy of the bill.

"NO!" I wailed with the stomp of my foot.

Employees and guests alike all stopped what they were doing to stare and judge me. I didn't care. Well, I did but, not really.

I squatted down in all black to pick up my notepad that had flew out of my hands with my temper tantrum.

As I sat at the bar after closing, I counted the quarters with the rest of my tips. For the eleventh time.

"—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... twenty. Twenty dollars and, oh wait, twenty-two dollars including these quarters. Twenty-two dollars." I said aloud proceeding a large exhale of air blowing my stands of hair from my face.

"After working twelve hours, I made twenty-two dollars. Ha." I think I was delirious, as mad as I was, it just came off loopy and I laughed about it.

"Good night, Morgan." Daryl, the cook, said to me. He palmed my skull and tried cheering me up.

I forced a small smile that dropped the second his back was turned to me.

"Hey," Ella snuck up on me. "I want you to have this."

I looked at the money in her hands. "What's this?"

"My tips from this week and over the weekend. I know things have been hard at home."

I pushed the envelope away. "Ella, I couldn't do that."

"But I insist. You're my favorite co-worker, and way too hot to be struggling. Besides, I don't even work here for the money anymore, just as a cover for my parents who don't know I'm dating that pro ball player." Ella went on to tell me about her racy affair with a minor league baseball player.

I envied that she didn't have to work, he wasn't a millionaire, but the athlete did take care of her. Though she was over eighteen, she had to keep up this double life for her parents who wouldn't approve of her affinity for athletes, so she only worked a six hours every other day or whenever she cared to come in.

Ella had a gold Cartier ring on her fingers and I didn't question if it was real or not. It was and I'm jealous.

Seeing I wasn't going to accept her hard-earned pay, Ella took back the envelope and stuffed it into her tote bag.

The both of us watched Kyle exit the kitchen and walk behind the bar, eyes glued to the money he was counting.

"You know," Ella whispered in my ear, "you can always use what you have to get what you want."

I pulled back once I got the hint and she winked at me.

"Good night, Mo." she squeaked, switching away.

"Night..." I sighed after her.

My chin sat in the palm of my hand as I watched the owner's nephew continue to touch the green in his hands. Looked like a lot of it — all twenties— at least five hundred.

I wondered what he was doing with that stack of cash but didn't say aloud.

"Ready to go?" He asked me, barely looked at my face.

I agreed silently and hopped off of the stool to lead the way.

Kyle closed and then met me at his car where I made myself look appetizing in the passenger seat.

After a long day, I let my hair out of it's ponytail and retired my customer service voice.

"Kyle, baby..." I internally cringed at my rare use of pet names for my own boyfriend. It just didn't sound right, I was never a "baby" or "babe" type of girl.

"Yeah?"

"So, Quinn's birthday is coming up and I was just wondering if-"

"You need some money?" He questioned, jaw chomping down on a fresh stick of gum.

I hesitated but eventually told him that I did.

"Just for her party tomorrow, it's last minute but I wanna do something special!"

"Special? Sounds expensive. How much?" He revealed a wad of cash from his glove compartment and licked his finger before counting it.

I twisted my mouth in thought. "With decorations and the cake, a good gift? Maybe, like, three hundred? Four?"

Kyle stopped flipping through the bills to stare at me like I had three heads.

"Four hundred? What, do you think I'm made of money?" His question made my eyes lock on the bills on his lap. Yes, yes I do think he's made of money. As often as he brags about it and makes trips to the bank, it was a safe assumption that he had some disposable income to just give away to his girlfriend at least.

"What are you gonna do for it?" Kyle asked me.

I blinked at him. "What?"

"You need the money, gotta earn it." He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

Oh.

I let him stroke my hair as he sniffed down my neck.

His small lips grazed my flesh and I felt nothing - no arousal. Per usual.

"Can I finally do it tonight?" Asked Kyle in a lower register.

"Do what?" I wondered, pulling away.

His eyes were low on me, stuck on my lips.

Kyle pecked along my chin and hairline, his hand cupping my breast.
Once his eyes were closed, I swiped a few twenties and one hundred-dollar-bill from his cup holder where some of the money had fallen. With a certain finesse, I dropped the cash into my purse and then zipped it subtly.

"The fisting stuff?" He tried to say sensually in my ear.

"What?!" I jumped out of his car with a quickness, entirely too weirded out.

"Oh, Morgan, come on!" He yelled through the window. "

"I told you, I'm not into that! And I know you have other girls, Kyle, ask them." I exclaimed, arms folded.

I began down the dark, desolate road past ten o'clock, ready to trek all the way home alone if he was going to be weird.

"Morgy, baby, kitten, doll," he listed, trying to suck up to me. "Sorry. Just get in the car, my uncle will kill me if something happens to you and you can't come in for your shift tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes but got back in the car anyway, slamming the door per my attitude.

"Look, I'm not into that, alright? And I don't appreciate you trying to get me to fuck you just for some money. If you don't want to help out your girlfriend for her niece's party, then fine."

"Fine." He huffed, finally pulling off.

At the end of the drive, Kyle finally rolled into the driveway outside of Callie's — our— home. Her car was there and so was mine, but I tried to avoid driving it until I got paid again since I so badly needed an oil change, and two new front tires.

Kyle put the car in 'park' and then tried to kiss me. I managed to turn my head fast enough so he only caught my cheek.

"Good night." I spoke softly, pushing the door open.

"Hey!" He called after me.

I stopped in place and took a second to sigh and roll my eyes.

"Yes?"

Kyle handed over sixty dollars. "Hope this helps. Tell the kid I said 'happy birthday.' Make sure your gifts has my name on it - Uncle Kyle."

"Thanks. Bye, Kyle." I slammed his door and jiggled my key in the door once I was at the step.

He didn't wait until I was safe inside to pull off. He never did.

All I wanted once inside was to eat something besides Kitty's chicken tenders and fries. I had gotten Chinese last night and saved some for this very moment, knowing I'd be hungry after my shift.

I kicked my shoes off and avoided piles of Quinn's toys as well as the boxes Callie had yet to unpack since the move. Years ago.

In the kitchen, I rubbed my hands together, mouth watering at just the thought of the General Tso's chicken.

When I flicked on the overhead light, I flickered and then burned out.

My jaw hit the floor, seeing sparks fly.

"I-" I was speechless.

Note to self: fix that in the morning.

I carefully navigated around the island using my phone's flashlight to see before opening the fridge. Luckily it wasn't an electricity thing, that overhead bulb was just shot and needed a replacement.

My cheeks hurt from smiling so big as I readied myself for this meal.

And then, the unthinkable. My container was left on the top shelf with only one piece of chicken left, a slither of fried rice, and three broccoli.

Devastation.

I could've cried.

Immediately I knew it was Callie's doing or one of the men she had over in rotation. She likes to offer and touch things that don't belong to her I've known since I was twelve.

I tried to stay positive, telling myself, "It's fine, I'll eat some cereal."

So I got out a clean bowl and spoon and hummed the melody of a song as I opened the pantry to retrieve a box of Frosted Flakes.

Heartbreak.

I knew the box felt awfully light. I shook it and heard little to no shuffling of the flakes.

"Wow." I gasped, making a frown.

So, I had sleep for dinner that night.

When I woke up the next day, I didn't have work so early so naturally I ran errands.

I figured I'd just bite it and take from my savings to pay for the oil change and tires now since I was going to have to cut into my savings anyway if I wanted something better for Quinn's birthday.

Callie was fast asleep as was my niece, so I left them behind. I wanted my gifts to be a surprise when I returned with a castle, new Barbies, and/or a fake kitchen anyway.

My car was driving smoothly after quite a few stops. With the money I had on hand I spent it at the dollar store for balloons, a card, three party hats, and hot dog buns. Then I filled my car up with gas so I wouldn't have that to worry about later.

Next stop: the bakery for a custom cake.

"—What do you mean my card declined?!" I didn't mean to yell at the cashier.

"It said 'insufficient funds.'" The ginger girl shrugged.

"That's impossible!" I acted. Except, it was possible. Just that I had money in my reserve account not spend so I had to make a transfer.

"What?!" I then yelled at my own self once I read the screen. "No more transfers allowed for this month?!"

I threw my head back with sealed lips and tried not to cry.

I gathered myself in an instant to address the bakery employee.

"How long can you hold this cake?"

She answered, "Until we close tonight."

I locked my fingers over the counter. "And what time do you close?"

"Seven."

My eye twitched seeing as though I hoped to celebrate the party by five and it was getting late in the day already.

"Perfect!" I beamed, practically skipping out of the bakery.

When I got in my car, I tried starting it as one does. Well, today must be National Morgan has Bad Luck Day because my car wouldn't start. How? Why? I don't know, I'm not a fucking mechanic, that was my next stop.

I let out a deep breath and then checked my car to make sure I had everything I may need since it had to stay parked outside of the bakery. Wallet, phone and keys all in my purse on my shoulder, I locked the doors to my Camry and started the ten minute walk across the highway to get to nearest supermarket where I hoped to kill multiple birds with one stone: find an ATM that may let me withdrawal from my other account so I can get the cake as well as money to pick up Quinn's toys and pay for my car later as well as find some way to get my car to the shop once my other errands were completed.

It was after six-thirty that evening when I returned to the bakery. After a long day of shopping, paying late bills, and walking, I almost forgot about my niece's birthday cake.

I trudged inside with tired feet and eyes and slammed down the money for the cake that I didn't have before.
The Ginger from earlier in the day was still on the clock and thankfully, she didn't give me a hard time. She remembered me and even acknowledged my showing up before they locked the doors.

I spared her the details of my long, poor day even when she asked about it.

I got inside of my car and expressed my gratitude for it. It smelled like cigarettes due to Callie's boyfriend having to come and pick me up. He attached the Toyota to his truck and wheeled me to the mechanic's. I didn't ever remember Callie's boyfriend's name but I appreciated him for coming when my sister couldn't because she was taking a "depression nap."

At long last I was home.

Callie had just blown out a single candle on a cupcake when I met them in the dining room.

"Oh." I sounded, dropping my bags on the table.

"Hey, Squirt, I didn't know when you'd be back so I just whipped up some Funfetti and started the party without you." Said Callie, bent over Quinn's high chair. 

I nodded stiffly, hateful eyes glued on the homemade dessert.

Quinn looked happy, she's a kid she didn't care if she had a layered themed birthday cake or not, just wanted something sweet to make a mess with.

"Wanna watch Tangled with us? I know it's your favorite." Callie invited, licking the vanilla icing and sprinkles from her fingers.

"No," I gulped. "I'm tired. Um, here's the gifts - the big one's from Kyle. Good night, Cal. Night, stink."

I kissed Quinn's head and then walked down the hall to my bedroom but not before checking in on Quinn's.

With the leftover cash in my purse, I did what I normally did and dropped the three five dollar bills into the five gallon water jug I got for Quinn for a piggy bank. It was the second one she's got and it's full like the other one. The final bill stuck out of the top and I made a mental note to get her another one.

"Oh, Morgan!" Callie sounded excited to call my name. I thought maybe she opened my gift or had a "thanks for everything" coming.

"Yeah?" I grinned.

"The kitchen light won't turn on," she mentioned, feeding Quinn. "can you fix that in the morning? Thanks."

~~~

During the car ride back to Malcolm's, a million questions crossed my mind. One of which I just couldn't bear not knowing the answer to any longer.

"So, there's no more Mistress?" I asked but that wasn't the burning question.

Malcolm stopped typing on his business phone to look at me.

"You mean Linda?"

I nodded to confirm.

Malcolm sighed like it pained him to say. "No. She's gone. I got rid of her."

"You got rid of her?" I swallowed hard.

He chuckled. "I made a decision: you and our marriage. She had to go. Are you happy?"

"Very." I had to play like I was actually interested in this loser especially after he signed papers promising me his wealth if — when — he dies. That and I didn't want him to hurt me again if I made him unhappy.

"Good. I know these last few months haven't been easy for us, I haven't been the best host, but I'm seeing to it February third will be the best day of your life."

When he squeezed my hand, I smiled.

"So no more h-hurting me?" I wanted to hear him say it.

Malcolm scratched his chin. He sat with his legs crossed and started to roll his ankle.

"Darling, no. So long as you're a good wife, I will not even think about hurting you. You've been difficult but that's my own fault, I should've been harder on you when you first arrived. That's all behind us, though, right?" He emphasized his last question.

I narrowed my eyes on him and he did the same, we were having a silent stare down, both knowing each other were full of shit. I'll never trust Malcolm and he knows I don't love him or even like him.

"Right." I swallowed. "So, then, what's yours will be mine..."

"I suppose that's what you came here in the first place, you should be jumping for joy?" He gave me the side-eye.

I snickered. "It's not about your money anymore. Trust me."

He scoffed himself. "No? What's it about, then, true love?"

I watched him pour a drink and I shook my head. I could sit back at ease a little knowing I will actually get what I want in the end.

"No. It's about your legacy, right?" I made sure I used that against him so he'd keep the thought in his head that he needs me. And since signing those papers, I'm entitled to all that is his. I know that thought scares him, or at least it would if he suspected I'd do anything to cross him again.

"Let's discuss, shall we?" He offered, hand settling on my knee. I really had to think hard and tell myself not to flinch or make a disgusted facial expression.

"What exactly do we have to discuss?" My eyebrow popped.

"Our child." Malcolm talked clearly, almost making me choke on nothing but air.

"I suggested a surrogate before but now that I think about it, it will be a lot more natural and very fulfilling to see you carry my child. Of course we'll have to wait until after the wedding, I don't want you fat in that dress..." he kept talking but lost me a long time ago.