Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“You can fake your death and sign over the money to me, if you like.”
“Then how would I get access to it?”
“I’d give you half.”
“I’m being serious, Damien.”
“You want a legal answer, or a ‘what I would do if I were you’ answer?”
“Aren’t they the same thing?”
“Not at all.”
I hesitated for a few seconds. “What’s the legal answer?”
“You take the ‘L’ right now and bide your time until the next opportunity to receive your inheritance comes, which is five years,” he said. “You take care of your business, take some time off to fall in love, and before you know it, you’re married to some girl you met in traffic and she gets to partake in your inheritance with you.”
“Yeah, no.” I shook my head. “What would you do?”
“I would find a woman who could pretend to be my wife for a few weeks, get through all the paperwork and checkpoints, and then get everything annulled.”
“That sounds shady as hell, Damien.”
“Your contract says you have to be married within the calendar year of your birthday, which is what? Three days after Christmas?”
“Yes.”
“So, you still have a little under two weeks to get that done, and then the firm will take no longer than thirty to sixty days to process everything—depending on how busy things are—and then you’re two hundred million dollars richer and officially a billionaire.”
I shook my head. “You’re missing something. It sounds too good to be true.”
“I thought it sounded shady…”
“It’s that too, but—” I paused, thinking long and hard about it. “Has something like that ever worked for anyone you know?”
“I have a twenty out of twenty record on this type of case,” he said, without hesitation. “It works, as long as you commit and don’t try to overdo it.”
“I’ll have to sleep on it and get back to you.”
“Sounds good. This call will be five thousand dollars.”
“For asking a few simple questions?”
“For asking the best lawyer in New York a few simple questions,” he said. “I’m assuming you have at least ten more.”
“I do.”
“Then start asking.”
4B
JENNA
My living room was the saddest display of holiday cheer I’d ever seen.
We were weeks away from Christmas, and instead of my usual red handmade stockings, I’d hung a “Will hang later” Post-it. There was no fir tree glowing with warmth, no North Pole train circling the floor, and no sign that the holidays had even arrived.
Well, unless you wanted to count the letter hanging exactly where my tree should’ve been—the letter that explained why I hadn’t had a single second to even think about decorating for the season.
Dear Santa,
I’m only asking for one thing this year—just one tiny little thing—and it doesn’t require you to come down a chimney or carry anything heavy on my behalf at all.
Please find a way—any way—to stop the world this week during my boss’s Naughty or Nice bonus ceremony so I can slap the shit out of him with my heavy-duty stapler. Then give me a chance to kick him a few times when he hits the ground, too.
(You can restart the world seconds after.)
Merry Christmas & thank you in advance,
Jenna Dawson
“He better actually deliver my wish to me this year…” I muttered under my breath.
I took a long sip of wine and began organizing ornaments.
As I was setting up a few golden reindeer, a knock sounded at my door.
I remained still, not wanting to deal with my neighbor selling me his holiday beef drink for the third time this week.
When I was sure he was gone, I returned to untying strings, but the knock sounded again.
I refused to show a sign of life.
Staring at the door, I noticed the lock softly clicking, the knob slowly turning.
What the hell?
It opened with ease, and Nicholas stepped inside.
Completely uninvited, looking sexy as hell in a dark gray coat, he looked around until his eyes met mine.
“Did you not hear me knocking?”
“I did.” I set down the reindeer. “Did you notice me not answering?”
He shut the door. “This is an emergency situation.”
“Well, thank you so much for calling to see if I was home first,” I said.
“I did call. You hit ignore.”
“Because I don’t want to be bothered.” I crossed my arms. “How may I help you?”
“I need a wife.”
“A what?”
“A wife.”
“A white?” I asked. “Like a flat white latte?”
“A fucking wife.” He narrowed his eyes. “Someone who is married to me.”
I blinked. “Willingly?”
“Yes, willingly, Jenna.” He moved closer to my bare tree. “I spoke to a very special lawyer who found a few loopholes in my contract.”
“You mean, Damien Carter?”
“Who he is, is not your business,” he said, as if I didn’t have his contacts synced to my cell phone. “All I need from you is a perfect wife who can sign an NDA, smile her way through a few questions from the inheritance agency—if they bother to ask any at all—and someone who can pass as someone who loves me as much as I love her.”