Vows & Vendetta

CHAPTER 4 - ACE’S POV

I stared at the clock on the wall like it had personally offended me. Ten months. Ten. Months.

That's how long I had to find a wife. Not a date. Not a girlfriend. A wife.

Grandpa really outdid himself with that clause. And he even threw in a little bonus: the other half of the estate goes to whoever I marry. Because apparently, my inheritance should come with a plus one and the threat of marital espionage.

What the hell was he thinking?

I ran my hands through my hair continuously, as thoughts were colliding in my skull at ninety miles an hour. The moment all the board members got hold of the news, they started plotting. If I failed this ridiculous "marriage clause," the board was going to vote, and I wasn't about to let grandpa's legacy fall into the hands of those power-hungry parasites.

"If it isn't the man of the moment," Jackson drawled as the door creaked open and he stepped in, holding a notepad in hand and that same cocky grin that had somehow gotten worse over the years.

He was, objectively speaking, too handsome for his own good. Piercing blue eyes like his mothers, a sharp jawline, hair always perfectly cut, styled on top with a faded cut around the edges. And the devil-may-care confidence practically oozed off him.

I was already exasperated before he even said a word. "Not in the mood, Jack."

He sauntered in anyway and dropped into the chair across from my desk, ignoring me. "I was going to sit anyway."

Jackson and I had grown up under the same roof. After his father, my uncle's death and his mother vanished into thin air - ran off without a word, really - my mother took him under her wing. The Blackthorn mansion was home to us all, and Jackson had become more than just a cousin. He was my brother in everything.

We were practically twins, but while I learned how to shoulder responsibilities, Jackson learned how

to charm his way through it. And now, here he was, flashing a wide grin while my entire future was on the verge of falling apart m.

I let out a sigh and stood from my chair, pacing toward the bar at the far end of the office.

"How could grandpa do this?" I muttered, pouring a glass of whiskey. "How could he even think of... why did he think of marriage?"

“Maybe he just really wanted you in a tux before you turned into a cryptid."

“How comforting." I looked back just in time to catch his smug expression, and God, I wanted to wipe that grin clean off his face.

"Come on." he said, shrugging. "Grandpa was old-school. Marriage meant stability to him. He just wanted to help you secure an heir before your sperm starts filing for retirement."

"Charming." In all my years of living, I never thought I'd actually consider tossing my cousin off a skyscraper.

Jackson winked. "I aim to please." He spun back to face the desk and tapped the notepad he'd brought in like it held the solution to all my problems.

I eyed it suspiciously as I walked towards my seat. “What is that?"

"A carefully curated list of eligible women who might tolerate you for at least a year."

"You've lost your mind."

"No. You need a wife, asap. So I made a list."

"This isn't Tinder, Jackson."

"You're right. It's chess. And if you want to keep your throne," he splayed out his hand, gesturing to the office, "you have to marry the queen." He pushed the notepad toward me.

I opened it carefully. First name in bold: Vanessa Sterling. I slammed it shut.

"Vanessa?"

"Crazy ex always does the trick," he answered with that damned smirk.

"I’d rather die single."

"Noted. But mother likes her..."

"Mother also likes porcelain lapdogs. Her taste is not a reliable compass."

Vanessa was the daughter of businessman and corporate rival, Malcolm Sterling. But she and I dated for eight months. She had the kind of elegance that fit into my world seamlessly. She was beautiful. Everything was all rainbows and sunshine until I found out she'd been feeding confidential data to her father.

How she even got the information, I couldn't find out but what mattered is that she had been a mole this entire time, smiling at me across candlelit dinners while stabbing me in the back.

The moment I found out the truth, I ended it. No second chances or explanations. So, of course, seeing her name on the list had me question Jackson's sanity.

"Relax, I only put her name to piss you off."

"Succeeded."

I shoved the notepad away and focused my attention to my tablet. There were reports to read and stocks to stabilize. I didn't have time for his crap.

But, Jackson, naturally wasn't done. “Clarrisa Vane, Beatrice Langley, Talia Reyes…”

"Rejected. Rejected. Please, God no. and wait Talia?" I glanced at him, "she has no business acumen.

She'd break under the weight of the media."

"She's very flexible."

"Jesus Christ."

Jackson was practically glowing with amusement. "Okay, okay, fine. If those don't do it for you..." He flipped a page, and I noticed that flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. That smug twinkle he always got before unleashing pure chaos.

"..There's Zenith Lancaster."

The room went completely still, and my hand froze midair. I lifted my gaze slowly to meet his, as that name kept ringing in my head.

"Don't you dare."

"Why? Because she kicked your ass on that deal two years ago?"

"She didn't kick my ass," I said coldly, "She cheated."

He raised a brow. "You mean she outsmarted you brilliantly."

"One more word," I warned, pointing at him, "and you're fired."

"Touching," Jackson ran a hand through his stubble, unbothered.

"Look, I know she's not your favorite person but just think about it. She's smart. She's not going to marry you for your money or name. She has her own empire. She can stand toe-to-toe with Vanessa, if needed. I think there was a rumor she was engaged once, but who cares? Now, she's not. She can sell the lie and leave the moment you get what you want. And she sure as hell won't fall in love with you. That's what you want right?”

I didn't respond. My face hardened at my visible annoyance. I could still see her storming into that boardroom and walking out holding everything I wanted.

"She's reckless, and… unpredictable."

"Yes and yes. But through research, we know that she won’t compromise, she won’t bend," Jackson added, holding up a finger. "And if she decides the wind is blowing in another direction, she'd be gone before you feel the draft. Sounds like a power couple to me."

Oh, for f**k's sake!

"I don't want someone who can walk away at any moment. I want someone who understands what this legacy means. Someone who'll help me guarantee ownership of this company without burning everything in her path."

I looked at him dead in the eyes this time. "Zenith is a goddamn hurricane."

He didn't smile this time. He just nodded once. "True... but sometimes hurricanes shake up dead empires."

The words settled in on me heavily and I sat there speechless, and Jackson adjusted his suit, stood up and headed for the door. He stopped for a second, with one hand on the door frame, and turned to look at me with that maddening smirk. "I know it sounds insane, but I'm not wrong."

Then he walked out, and the door clicked shut behind him.

Realistically, Zenith was the safest option and the smartest. But it didn't change the fact that she was too spontaneous for me. I liked balance, she thrived on unpredictability.

So why the hell did part of me want to walk straight into the fire? And would she even agree to this madness?