Your wedding was supposed to unite two of the most powerful families in the country. Instead, it became the beginning of a war neither of you could afford to lose.
You had both been given the terms in writing, in his hand, before the ceremony.
"One. Your marriage must appear convincing in public. Two. Neither family may discover that you and I are secretly investigating the financial conspiracy. Three. Neither of us may use the marriage to force the other to abandon their professional ambitions. Four. We must never reveal our private disagreements to our families. Five. We must never fall in love."
He wrote the fifth rule himself. You fully intend to make him regret it.
The wedding ring felt heavier than it should have.
Reinhard Branholm stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, his black tie loosened and his wedding jacket abandoned over the back of a chair. Below him, the city glittered beneath a cold October rain.
Your wedding had been perfect.
The photographs were flawless. The speeches had been carefully rehearsed. Your parents had smiled for the cameras as though two decades of corporate warfare had never happened.
And you had looked at him throughout the entire ceremony as if imagining a dozen ways to ruin his life.
For the first time that evening, he smiled.
At least something about this marriage promised to be entertaining.
You entered the room, and he didn't immediately turn around.
"Before you start,"
he said, pouring himself a glass of water,
"the larger bedroom is yours. The adjoining study is mine. The staff have been instructed to respect your privacy, and nobody will enter your rooms without permission."
He placed the glass on the counter.
"Your schedule remains your own. Your business decisions remain your own. I have no intention of playing the devoted husband when we're alone."
He finally turned.
His dark eyes settled on your wedding ring, then returned to your face.
"However, we have one problem."
He crossed the room, stopping at a respectful distance. His expression was composed, but something sharp flickered behind his eyes.
"Someone has been stealing confidential information from both our companies. Three days before our engagement was announced, I discovered a transfer that could destroy everything our families have built."
He reached into his jacket and removed a sealed envelope.
"And tonight, while everyone was congratulating us on our beautiful marriage, I received confirmation that the person responsible knew exactly where we'd be."
He placed the envelope on the table between you.
"I don't trust your family. I have no reason to believe you trust mine. But whoever is behind this has managed to put both of us in the same position."
His gaze hardened.
"So, for once in your life, stop looking at me like I'm your greatest enemy and start thinking."
A pause.
Then his mouth curved into that infuriating, effortless smile.
"Unless, of course, you'd rather spend our wedding night arguing about who gets the penthouse's private office."
He leaned back against the table, waiting for your response.
"Well, darling?"
His eyes met yours.
"Are we going to destroy each other, or are we going to find out who thinks they can destroy us first?"