Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

  “I’ve already asked twice.”

  “Angelo was always a stubborn asshole. Jealous of my company name.”

  I didn’t recognize the first voice right off the bat, but I knew Lorenzo’s in my sleep.

  “Which is why if we don’t marry, my name isn’t going on the building. He won’t invest as much as he initially agreed if the Conti name isn’t right next to Mariano.”

  Camden.

  I couldn’t stand having him here, but appearances demanded no one be left out. Especially someone so high ranking in Verana’s family company.

  “Cazzo! Camila’s family haunts me even when they aren’t around. That damn amendment in the company contract. Having to be a family member to add their name to the company is archaic and bullshit. It’s my company. I should be able to add whoever I want.”

  Lorenzo forcing Vera to marry Camden made a lot more sense after that angry rant. I knew Mariano Shipping was crumbling, but I never expected Lorenzo to sell off his own daughter to some asshole like Conti to save it.

  Although, I should’ve known better. I knew first-hand how cold and calculated he could be. It made taking Vera away from him all the sweeter and left me with zero regrets about using her in this game. She should be grateful it was me instead of Camden, she was forced to marry for reasons outside of her control.

  “Fucking Rush,” Camden sneered. “Something new and shiny in front of Vera, and she’s off after his dick like a whore.”

  My fists clenched, and I moved to round the corner when a thud followed by an oomf stopped me.

  “That’s my fucking daughter you’re talking about,” Lorenzo growled.

  “A daughter you were selling off to me to save your company,” Camden shot back, slightly strangled.

  “I did it with the interest that you’d take care of her. Not be some selfish prick that chased her off. Don’t look at me like I ruined this when your shitty personality pushed her away.”

  “Whatever. She’s a lost cause and missed out. Rush is new money without half the connections we have. He’ll never be able to provide the life she’s used to.”

  “This is all a fucking mess.”

  “But not a lost cause. My father will still invest as I’m working my way to the top. All we need is another investor. I’ll play the long game, and whenever Verana leaves that arrogant asshole, I’ll be there to sweep in. We’ll marry, and the Conti name will be added to Mariano. We just need patience.”

  “And a silent investor. And hope that Verana doesn’t get knocked up in the meantime. Camila’s father left only a few shares in her name when he passed away, but any child of Vera’s would get more. With the way things are going, losing any more shares is too dangerous. I needed to keep as many as I could under my control.”

  “Our control,” Camden corrected.

  “Whatever,” Lorenzo grumbled. “I’ll call my lawyers to ensure I protect what is mine—what I have left of Camila. Not that Rush has enough money to be a threat.”

  Disgust rolled in my stomach. Part of me wanted to believe he cared for Vera, but not as much as his company. She was a pawn to him.

  Fucking over someone else’s family was one thing. But to do it to your own was another.

  My determination inched higher. I’d take his company, and I’d take his daughter, protecting her from the two monsters on the other side of the wall.

  Walking back to my future bride, I did my best to blot out the information that a child would gain extra shares of the company. We’d agreed, no children in the time of our marriage, but I couldn’t ignore the allure of making my victory all the more assured with a child.

  But no. I was marrying Verana under false pretenses, using her for my own gain she didn’t even know about.

  Knocking her up would make me no better than the monsters using her like nothing. I couldn’t do it.

  Could I?

  Eighteen

  Vera

  The party progressed in a blur. Other than the small stretch of time I’d stormed away from Nico, he hadn’t left my side. His touch remained firmly glued to my hip, only leaving to hold my hand, brush my hair aside, stroke down the bare skin on my back, or any other way he could touch me with the excuse of portraying a loving couple.

  My muscles remained stiff the entire time, holding strong as to not fall to a puddle at his feet and beg him to take me like he’d said earlier.

  No. I would not give in to Nicholas Rush. Especially when he assumed he had the rights to my body just because I agreed to marry him. We were helping each other. I was not indebted to him, owing him whatever he wanted to take.

  Even if I did have dreams about letting him.

  Remembering those nights I woke up aching, imagining exactly what he said—my legs around his waist, no masks—had me hesitating when he asked if I wanted to grab a drink at the swanky bar next door. But a nightcap after a long day sounded nice. And eventually, I’d have to find comfort in being around him. In a little over a month, I’d be living with him—surrounded by him.

  God, I was screwed.

  It didn’t help when he held the door open for me into the dimly lit bar. Or when he rested his hand against my back, guiding me to a stool. The rough scrape of his hand against my skin sent tingles up my spine. The utter gentleman he was, waited for me to be seated first before grabbing his own.

  “Another glass of champagne?” he asked.

  “Just a red wine, please,” I asked the bartender.

  Nico ordered the same, and we both sighed, the tension easing with our first sip. I closed my eyes, the soft murmur of conversation mixing with the clink of glasses on a table. Friends laughing over the easy jazz filtering through the speakers. All of it working to let the stress of being on for everyone fade away.

  “I didn’t notice any family there today,” I said, breaking the silence.

  “I could say the same about you. Our engagement party resembled a shipping convention more than a gathering of friends and family.”

  “True. But my dad was there—unfortunately—and Rae and Nova. They’re like my family.”

  “I know you mentioned your mother passed, but is there no one else?”

  “I never knew much about my father’s side of the family. He wasn’t close to them and apparently became even more distant when he married my mother. My mother was an only child, and her mother lives in Italy. My grandfather passed away soon after my mom died, and my grandmother moved, not really coming to visit anymore. I think it’s hard on her.”

  I took another fortifying sip of wine, hiding any lingering resentment that my grandma put a wall up between us.

  “But you?” I narrowed my eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him. “You can’t distract me.”

  His lips tipped into the tiniest of smiles, knowing I’d caught him doing just that. “I told you. My parents died, and I didn’t have any siblings. I have a grandfather in Charleston, and he can’t really travel easily for a weekend party.”

  “Will he be at the wedding?”

  “He’d kill me if I got married without him there,” he said, affection changing his tone to one I’d never heard before. Warmth slipped through my chest at his endearing smile.

  “You’re close to him.”

  “He’s the only family I have left, and he taught me everything I know. He built our company from the ground up.”

  My brows furrowed. “I thought K. Rush Shipping was newer. When I looked into it before applying, I thought it was only ten years old?”

  His eyes flicked away from mine. “It is. His company hit a few stumbling blocks before I had a chance to work there.”

  “What’s his company’s name? Maybe I remember it.”

  “It was a small company. You wouldn’t recognize it.” Nico shook his head and waved the question away, going back to who attended the reception. “And you may not have had much family there, but you knew almost everyone.”

  “I grew up in this world.”

  I’d attended galas s
ince I was little. I’d done all the charities and business events that included mingling with other companies. It was its own small world within the world.

  “So, why not work for your dad?”

  Such a simple question with so many difficult explanations.

  “To keep it short—I’m a woman.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  I sipped my wine to hide the heat bleeding into my cheeks at his blatant perusal of my femininity.

  “Well, in my family, that means I have a role to play. I’m to marry someone who would fit into the company and be able to take it over. And my job would be to be a socialite. Sit on charity boards, be a public face for Mariano Shipping. A freaking mascot.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “It isn’t. Even if I tried to be. Despite knowing what my future held, I followed my passion. I grew up in this world, and I loved it. I figured maybe I could be more than a mascot. And if nothing came of it, at least I tried. I had to believe in the future they painted. My parents had an arranged marriage, and my mother told me about how they hated each other but fell in love. She told me how I’d marry a good man and to trust them. She’d tuck me in and talk to me like it was our secret that she’d have the final say in who I’d marry, and she’d always promise to pick the most handsome of men for me.” Memories pressed heavily on my chest. “Then she died, but I still trusted my father. I trusted in the love I saw between them. Never in a million years did I expect someone like Camden. There was no amount of time that Camden could have grown into a decent husband.”

  Nico scoffed and wore a grimace to match mine. “There’d never be any room for Camden to love you. He’s too in love with himself.”

  He hit the nail on the head, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the accuracy.

  “He’d probably take you on a golf trip for your honeymoon.”

  “What if I like golf?” I asked just to be stubborn.

  “Then he’d only talk about himself and forget you were even there. He’d probably drive away on the cart, not even seeing you standing there.”

  “Oh, and do you plan on whisking me away on a romantic honeymoon and seeing me?” I pretend swooned and batted my eyes.

  “Oh, I plan on seeing all of you.”

  Again, another up and down perusal. This one more intense and filled with the unspoken memory of every illicit thing we’d done on the balcony. My core clenched, in complete opposition with my brain, wanting more—morals be damned.

  I remembered being sore days later. I remembered the bruises, the bite mark—the intensity.

  Dammit. I was melting again.

  “And yes, I have a yacht booked in Italy with various stops for our honeymoon.”

  “What?” Between the melting and the shock, I almost fell out of my chair. “You booked us a honeymoon?”

  “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because this marriage isn’t real.”

  “I’ve already explained this, Verana. I want it to be a real marriage. And frankly, a vacation sounds nice.”

  A vacation did sound nice. A vacation away from reality. Running with my hand in Nico’s as my world crumbled behind me. It would be stupid to argue.

  “What about work? A trip to Italy sounds like more than a weekend trip.”

  “I have people to handle everything I need while we’re away. And I booked flights for us to stay a little less than two weeks, but we can extend it if we like. You only get one honeymoon.”

  Maybe not, a small voice whispered. “You can always get married again after five years. Find a woman you truly love—or at least like—and have it all again.”

  “I like you just fine. So, we better do it right the first time, just in case.”

  Something about the way he said it held an underlying current—like maybe he didn’t believe there would be anything beyond our firsts.

  Maybe because the dim lighting brought out the specs of green in his eyes that always held me entranced. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the trip down memory lane and remembering asking my mother for a dark-haired and dark-eyed prince.

  But I couldn’t help but wonder—would Nico be the man Mama always promised I’d find. Would he be the one I married and ended up falling for?

  The only one?

  Nineteen

  Nico

  “Are you sure you’re happy here?”

  “I’m happy with my family, Nicholas.”

  Grandpa laid his weathered hand on top of mine, and I stared at the frail fingers and wrinkled skin. These were the hands that tossed me into the air as a boy. The same hands that taught me how to shoot and throw a punch. While he’d taught my father everything he knew about the business, he taught me everything he knew about life.

  He had so much left to give, and yet stress, a heart attack, and one too many blows from fate left him in a home, his mind slipping away faster than his body.

  “Besides, my love is buried here.”

  “We can visit her this week.”

  His eyes slid closed, and a warm smile he reserved only for my grandma covered his face. “And as long as you take me to the ocean every once in a while.”

  “Of course, Grandpa.”

  “Good. Now, you said work was keeping you here. Tell me about the business. What’s going on that has you so busy?”

  It’d been a hard decision to move my grandpa up here. We both loved Charleston so much. The ocean, the sun, the southern comfort—the lack of memories of what was taken from us at every turn. But when I’d explained why I wanted to move him, he agreed without hesitation.

  But having him here was like looking in a mirror and facing how much had changed in the past few months—facing everything I was doing and the moral lines I toed. I grimaced, thinking about ways to get around the truth.

  “Don’t give me that face. I know my mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be, but I taught you all you know, and you can humor an old man by talking shop. So, what about work has you moving back full time to the place you said you disliked so much?”

  Turned out, just like when I was a kid, there was no getting around the truth with Grandpa. Rubbing a hand down my face, I considered the most delicate way to deliver the news without inspiring the third degree. “It’s not all about work.”

  “Ohhhh.” He dragged the word out around a smirk, even managing to bounce his brows in insinuation. “A woman.”

  “Yeah,” I said on an exhale.

  “It must be serious.”

  “We’re getting married.”

  Blink. Blink.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  I held my breath, telling myself I’d speak first once I got to one.

  One and a half.

  One and one quarter.

  “Hot, damn, Nicholas,” Grandpa yelped. He slapped his leg and laughed, grabbing my hand in his and holding tight.

  When Vera asked me what I got out of marrying her, I gave a half-truthful reason of making my grandfather happy, but seeing his joyful elation settled something in my chest I hadn’t realized was out of place.

  “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone,” he exclaimed around his brilliant smile. “How long? Do I get to meet her?”

  “Not long. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind,” I answered as honestly as I could, hoping to avoid the second question. In the end, I only prolonged the inevitable of explaining it all. His mind may wander in and out, but he had moments of being sharp as a tack. There would be no getting around explaining who I was making my wife.

  It was like walking into a volcano, unable to turn around, knowing you were fucked, but continuing on your path anyway.

  “So, will I get to meet her?” he asked again. “Or am I going to meet your bride after you say your vows?”

  “Of course, before the wedding. Soon. Promise.”

  “Don’t sound so excited,” he joked. “Gosh, I don’t even know her name. Tell me, Nico. Tell me the
name of the angel who has claimed your heart.”

  The romantic image he painted made the truth all the harder to admit, but it was better he knew before he met her. My chest pinched, and all the happiness I’d given moments ago slipped away like sand between my fingers.

  “Verana Mariano,” I choked out.

  He sat up tall, his jaw working open and closed as if he wanted to laugh it away as a joke and then tell me I was full of shit or that it was wrong. Each possible reaction had a different emotion flashing across his face until finally, realization and frustration settled in.

  “Nicholas Knightly Rush. What the hell are you doing?”

  “It’s not—”

  “What I think?”

  I winced, hating that he called me on my bullshit answer because we both knew that deep down, it had to do with my revenge.

  “Yes and no, but I didn’t seek her out. She just…fell into my lap.”

  One brow slowly lifted, reminding me of all the times he’d find me with cookie crumbs on my mouth after I’d already gone to bed. Without saying a word, he leaned back with a deep breath, resting his linked hands atop his stomach, and waited.

  Time to jump into the volcano.

  With my own deep breath, I explained how I became engaged to the daughter of the man who I hated most in this world.

  “She’s an innocent woman, Nicholas. Don’t involve her in your revenge,” he said when I finished.

  “She’s getting more than enough out of this.”

  “And how will she handle knowing she was the key to the downfall of her family company?”

  “She’s smart enough to start her own, and after everything her father has put her through, she may want just that.” Grandpa shook his head, but I wouldn’t let his disappointment sway me. I’d come too far—we’d gone through too much. “I know what I’m doing, and we’ll all be better on the other side of it.”

  “A marriage built on lies is not a marriage at all, Nicholas. Even a fake one. No one is better with that.”

  “It’s a marriage we’re both walking into with more honesty than most. This arrangement suits us both.”