Raven Rival

the Lesser Evil

Damien's face was grim. He wanted their ancestral house but he definitely did not want to get married to acquire it. He had decided long ago that no woman would ever get close enough for there to be any need of that entanglement. Not after the disaster involving Beryl Damaskus.

Anyway, the will stated that he could never, should never marry the said woman if he wanted Millennia. Not that he had any desire to. Beryl busted her chance and he had no plans of making a fool of himself twice over the same woman.

Incidentally, the will made no mention of that possibility. What if he was already married to Beryl when contents of the will were disclosed? Did he forfeit his inheritance? Somehow he had a feeling that the old tyrant put him under surveillance the minute he left Greece to ensure that Damien didn't make that error.

He and his grandfather did not always see eye to eye but as he was the only direct grandson or grandchild for that matter, the concern remained. Familial love? Perhaps it was better termed as affection. Yes, he cared for the old man in his own way and Damien believed that his grandfather doted on him, too.

But Damon's sudden death two months ago left Damien regretful and angry. Regretful because he let his pride rule his head. Instead of acknowledging his mistake about Beryl, and giving his grandfather the respect due to him, he left Greece and made it a point not to visit. There were phone calls, yes. Plenty. But they've been very impersonal. A formal acknowledgment that everything had been forgotten. Forgiven. And during those calls, his grandfather hid his ailment. Damien had to inherit that pride from someone.

So yes. He felt anger at Damon's sudden departure. There were moments when he wanted to accuse the old man of taking the coward's way out—dying. But surely, Damien could not accuse his grandfather of that. He was the one who had been a coward for not apologizing. He acted immaturely and irresponsibly—and all because of a worthless argument over a more worthless woman.

He wondered what kind of girl his grandfather would welcome in their ancestral house. Millennia might forever be banned to a gold-digger like Beryl, but the will made no mention of Damien asking a certain golden haired girl into a business marriage. It will enable them to go into their separate ways after he legally owned the house.

He'd heard Mari's opinions about him. She seemed cold-blooded enough to enter into such an arrangement. She didn't strike him as someone who believed in walks under the moonlight or in the clouds or someone who saw life through rose-colored glasses.

She sounded very cool while talking with the English girl like she had no use for romance or love in her life. Someone just like him. She wouldn't see anything sweet or romantic in their 'necessary' trip to Greece. One of the conditions before Damien could inherit was that he should stay in Millennia with his wife for at least three months.

Hah! Cunning, old man. Damien knew what the tyrant wanted. It was very clear that it was a ploy. Even from the grave, it seemed that Damon was hoping that he'd be given at least one grandchild. Preferably male. He should have known. Damon Terzakis could be a manipulative opponent from six feet under. But Damien had a feeling that had his grandfather made that imposition while he was still alive, Damon would have found his match in Mari Miller.

Mari hardly seemed human to him. She never chattered about any boyfriends—like the nonsensical giggles he often heard from girls in their building when he passed by. She seemed so career-minded. He would make sure she considered this proposal a kind of career advancement—for a limited period.

"Mari, will you come in here?" he said after pressing the intercom.

She sat down on one of the armchairs in front of his table and waited for his usual morning dictation.

"I need a bride," he began. He watched her keenly. Her eyes narrowed a little when they looked up at him.

"Pardon?" Was he crazy?

"I'd really hate to repeat myself. And I'm sure that you were going to put it in writing." He made a point of looking at her notepad.

"I didn't… didn't catch what you said, Mr. Constantine," she stammered.

"And you're a very accomplished liar."

She pulled herself together. "Very well. Are you asking me to introduce you to an eligible friend—"

"I was hoping that won't be necessary." His eyes were teasing, faintly sardonic.

"What do you mean?" I want to be dense now… I am a certified dense executive secretary as of this moment…

"Will you consider a business marriage?"

Before she could utter a straight denial, he proceeded on supplying a curt explanation about his… dilemma.

Damien was amazed at the woman's detachment—if it could be called that. Beryl might have been a good actress, but this Mari was so unemotional she could make his ex-fiancée appear like paste when it came to hiding what she really felt. He was expecting her at least to show or feign surprise—a little interest, his family's economic and social standing being no secret—but except for the slight movement of her head and eyebrows, they might as well be discussing if it could be raining in England at the moment.

"That having been said…" Damien deliberately held the question.

"I'm already engaged. I'm sorry," Mari replied directly.

Damien didn't believe for a second that she was apologetic. "I see. Will you still work after you're married or does your fiancé want you to stay at home?"

"I may have to leave eventually but I promise to give you proper notice."

"It doesn't matter. As I'm getting married in a matter of weeks and going back to Greece, I'm letting a cousin from my mother's side take over this business," he related against his will. Perhaps it was because he'd always trusted her when it came to business matters that it was comfortable discussing corporate decisions with Mari. "There's no need for anyone to worry about their position."

"That's great." She gave a slight smile. "It appears that you'll be getting married sooner than me."

"I hope you don't mind me asking when your marriage will be?"

"We haven't really discussed the date yet," she explained, "but I'd like for everything to be okay before we tie the knot—a small house, a car, well, small details."

Damien could almost shake his head. He was right. Mari was one practical lady. It was a good thing his concentration never failed him as she was speaking again.

"Would you like me to introduce you to a couple of my friends? They're really nice." Her face wasn't really encouraging. It was almost telling him, 'don't you mess with them or else!' It was as if she was only asking because she opened that line earlier.

"That's okay. I think it'll be better if I make my own arrangements."

Well, he always does when it came to women, that one's for sure, Mari thought wryly.

Damien thought Mari appeared more relaxed because he declined her offer.

"Do you have letters for me to type?" she asked, once again the efficient executive staff.

"Yes." He soundlessly counted five of them and handed them over to Mari. "I need them after lunch."

"Yes, sir." And she quietly left the room.

AN: It's short I know, but better than nothing, right?