Bound By Vows

Chapter Two – A Dangerous Proposition

“You’ve lost your mind.”

Aria slammed the door and turned fully to him. “You think I’ll roll over because you’re waving around a few stalker shots? Please. Try harder.”

“Five million,” he said evenly, as though her resistance was a minor inconvenience. “That’s more than enough. Considering you’ve been risking your freedom for peanuts.”

“Five million and what?” Aria snapped, annoyed at his remark. “My soul? My freedom? A little collar with your initials engraved on it?”

The faintest curl at his lips. “Tempting picture, Miss Flint.”

She rolled her eyes and opened the door again. “Get out. Now.”

He didn’t move. Instead, he leaned back in her chair, the chair she had just vacated, stretching long legs out in front of him like he owned the room. His confidence wasn’t arrogance, it was certainty that she'd cave.

“You think this is a game, don’t you?” she demanded, circling the desk to confront him. “You think you can waltz in here with your…your shark suit and your billionaire smirk and throw money at me until I roll over like every other desperate fool you’ve crushed under your empire? Well. You have the wrong girl.”

Vincent tilted his head, grey eyes locking on hers. “Wrong name, too.”

Her blood turned to ice. “Wha..what did you just say?”

“You heard me. Your real name happens to be Anya Farrow.”

Her knees almost buckled. The name was a knife dragged out of the grave she’d buried it in years ago. “f**k you,” she hissed, suddenly seeing red.

“Language,” he retorted, clearly amused. “You wouldn’t want to embarrass your father’s legacy, would you? The great Richard Farrow, the conman, fraudster, thief….” He smiled at her. “Life sentence, wasn’t it?”

Aria’s throat tightened. She wanted to hit him. Wanted to claw that smug look from his face. Instead, she did the next best thing. She went back to the door and held it open. Again.

“Get. Out. And don’t ever come back here.”

“You’re feisty. I like that.” He stood up and walked over to where she stood.

“I don’t give a damn what you like.” She pushed at him, toward the door. “You want to blackmail someone? Pick another mark. Because if you think…”

But before she could even finish her sentence, she heard a gunshot outside, and both of them instinctively got down. A woman staggered inside, breathless, wild-eyed, rage carved across her expensive face.

Aria recognized her instantly. f**k. It was Margaux Lambert. Heiress to a shipping fortune. And one of Aria’s more spectacular jobs.

“You ruined me!” Margaux shrieked, fully entering into the room, her diamond bracelets clattering as she lunged forward. “You destroyed everything!” She was flinging the gun about.

Aria cursed under her breath. “Not now.”

Margaux was already reaching for the heavy vase on the console. It crashed to the floor, shards scattering as she swung the jagged remains toward Aria.

Aria ducked, glass splintering against the wall. “Jesus. Margaux, put it down before you kill someone!”

“You ruined my life!” the woman screamed again, tears and mascara streaking down her face. “You exposed me, and everyone knows now! My fiancé left me, my family cut me off…” She drew the gun again and pointed it at her.

“That’s because you were screwing your personal trainer and laundering money through your trust fund. Your husband paid me to do my job. It’s nothing personal.”

Margaux screamed and c****d the gun, she clicked, but thankfully, the gun was out of bullets. “Yiu b***h!”

Aria cursed again, ducking again as another piece of porcelain shattered inches from her head. “Actions have consequences, darling. Maybe aim some of that rage at a mirror!” Aria caught her wrist, and the two women crashed into a desk chair. Papers flew and whiskey spilled on the floor.

Vincent hadn’t moved. He watched, cold-eyed, like he was studying a particularly interesting play.

“Any time you’d like to help…” Aria grunted, frowning at him while she dodged a swipe of jagged porcelain.“...would be great!”

And then Margaux’s nails raked across her cheek, hot pain flashing across her body. “f*****g help me!”

Vincent moved then. One moment, he was a statue, and the next he had Margaux by the arms, holding her back effortlessly. He twisted her around and pinned her against the wall. “That’s enough, ma’am.”

Margaux spat curses, thrashing like a trapped animal, but against Vincent’s strong arms, she was nothing. He shoved her toward the door. “Get out before I have you arrested for assault.”

She screeched something incoherent, then stormed out, heels clattering down the hall like gunshots. “I swear I’ll be back, Aria. Watch your f*****g back!”

The silence left behind was deafening. Aria was panting, her auburn hair loose around her face, and her cheek burned from where the nails had caught her. She turned on Vincent.

“You set that up.”

He arched his brow. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she snapped, stalking toward him. “She just happened to barge in tonight? Just happened to attack me while you stood there, calm as a saint? That was staged, Dorian. A performance. You wanted me rattled.”

His lips twitched. “If I wanted you rattled, Ms. Flint, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.”

Her hands balled into fists. “Go to hell.”

He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him. His cologne wrapped around her like a blanket. He smelled good.

“I don’t stoop that low,” Vincent said softly. “When I want something, I don’t hire actresses. I take it. Thank me.” He commanded her.

Aria blinked. “For what?” She nearly laughed out loud at his arrogance. God, how she hated men like him.

“For saving you.” He replied, his eyes going down to her lips for a moment.

She gave a bitter laugh and reached for the door handle. “You’re insufferable. I’d rather take my chances with a lunatic heiress.”

Her hand had barely closed around the knob when his arm shot out, caging her there. The wall was suddenly at her back and Vincent’s body was only a few steps from hers.

“Not safe,” he said quietly. “You leave now, someone else will come for you. You make enemies for a living, remember?”

Her chest rose and fell sharply. “Move. Get out.” She was doubly annoyed because he affected her, strangely enough. He made her think of s*x, and she’d been celibate for a year.

Instead, he reached into his jacket and slid another folder into her hands.

Aria looked down. It was thicker than the first. The cover page, in neat bold font, made her stomach drop.

A Marriage Contract.

Before Aria could stop herself, she was howling, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “You are definitely crazy, Vincent Dorian. I said no to your money and you think a marriage contract is a better proposition?”

“You’ll marry me,” Vincent said. “I know the kind of power that woman has, and believe me when I say, you’ll probably not be alive to see the end of the week.” He moved even closer, so that his face was directly above hers.

“This is crazy. Let’s say I consider your previous offer, how can I get evidence to stop Adrian’s marriage? I work with one partner who wants to ruin their wedding themselves because there’s enough evidence and all I have to do most times is plan a setup.” Aria was annoyed that she was explaining herself.

Vincent bit his lower lip as he stared her down, and she felt a strange fluttering in her lower abdomen. “That’s why I need you to marry me. Look, I need a certain leverage of the family company and inheritance and I can’t get it without getting married. Adrian on the other hand, couldn't care less about the family business, and if he gets married first…”

“It goes to him and Lilith." Aria finished for him. “But you’ll still have major shares in the company, you’ll still be rich, right?”

He shook his head slowly. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t begin to explain the mechanics, but I know for sure that Lilith will sink her claws into the company and run it to the ground. Adrian can be quite weak willed. That company means a lot to me.”

Aria swallowed. She could see the love for the company in his eyes, and she wondered if she was really considering this.

He continued, his eyes now settled on her lips. “What do you say, Aria?”

Her name on his lips sounded like possession, she felt suddenly chilly.

“You owe me,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to stir her hair. “For almost getting us killed.”

“No.”

Aria finally found her voice. Even if she needed his help, she was sure as hell not going to sell herself. “You don’t own me, Vincent Dorian. Five million or five hundred, the answer’s the same. I don’t marry men who think they can buy me.”

Vincent leaned against the door. He was too calm, as if her refusal was only a delay, not an end.

“You will,” he said simply and then stalked out of the room.

“You’re so full of yourself.” She followed him, all the way outside, to his shiny black Porsche. “Try me.”

He simply smiled at her. “Take this.” He shoved a shiny gold card into her hand. “Call me, if you change your mind, Ms. Flint.” Then he got into his car, winked at her, and drove off.

“Son of a b***h!” She muttered to herself as she stood there, watching him.