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Chapter 3

Avara POV

My father seats us at the family table. He cleared out his morning just to have this discussion with us. He presides over the head of the table. Luciano and I sit across from each other and Silas sits next to me, staring at me like a parent preparing to catch their baby if they should fall. And that is how they have always treated me, as a child, more so when our mother died. To them, I'm just this fragile thing that can't handle anything. An ornamental vassal that will shatter from the slightest tap.

"There's a saying that goes; sometimes bad people do good things and good people do bad things. When I started my political career, everything was black and white. The distinction between bad and good was clear. But as time went on, I learned this city runs on a handshake and a wink. I thought I could do things differently, nobly even, but time taught me something else."

He looks at me. I tear my gaze away.

"One compromise led to another and the line started blurring. I told myself I had righteous reasons for doing unrighteous things. And it did start that way. Haru Black is an Oyabun, the head of the Yakuza and he is intelligent as he is lethal, cunning and dangerous. He practically gave me a lifetime loan with the things he has done for me. He was playing the long game. I was his investment; the more power I acquire, the more he can use."

Impatient, Luciano buts in. "The problem is what Haru is asking him to do now is a new level of immoral and illegal." He sends our father a punishing glare. "At least he had the decency to see that. We calculated the revenue Haru would've made if dad followed through. It's worth eight figures."

I free a whooshing breath.

"The only reason why I haven't turned myself in is that I alone can facilitate the trade agreements and enlist the aid of other officials. The political manoeuvring I can do for Haru alone but the money… we will need external help with that."

Everyone gives me this rueful, guilt-ridden look.

"And how will you get that?"

The men mirror an uneasy expression.

"You know Colton Vacheron?"

I nod slowly. "Big-shot billionaire, what about him?"

"He came to my office, and we talked." He clears his throat, wrangling his collar like it's suddenly strangling him. "Turns out he wants some favours from me, too. He knows with my help he can cut through a lot of red tape. In exchange, he can funnel in the money we need. And part of that deal is an alliance—a marriage alliance."

"Marriage," I blurt breathlessly. "Between who?"

"His son and… you."

Suddenly all the air escapes the room—my chest heaves, rendered speechless.

"It's the only way, Avie. I know it's a lot and what I'm asking—I have no right. But there is no other option and Haru is not a patient man. We don't even have the time to think of something else. And I've seen what he does to people who can't pay their debts." Fear flares in his eyes and he looks away, blinking fast. "I wish there was another way."

I fumble out of the chair, suddenly lightheaded but frantic with fervour. Silas extends his hand out to make sure I don't fall. I paste an icy hand on my simmering forehead, pacing feverishly.

"You want me to marry Landen?" My hand lowers to my stomach, disquiet growing within my womb. "And according to the tabloids, he is a party freak and an absolute womaniser, who looks like he doesn't understand the meaning of the word, responsibility. I mean, why would he when he can leach off billions?"

"I'm not talking about him."

I pivot sharply to look back at him.

"He has an older brother."

Even my brothers look astonished.

"I know, he's the world's best secret," my dad says with dry humour. "Vance Vacheron is not like him. Vance is much more reserved and business-oriented and eager to take over for his father. Colton's plan was that Vance was to become CEO and Landen, CFO and work under his older brother so he can learn some responsibility. However, in order for Vance to come into his full power, he must wed. He needs a wife, and Colton thinks you are a worthy choice."

Is this a joke? This can't be happening!

"For how long would I be married to the playboy's brother?"

My dad exhales. "I'd be lying if I said I knew."

"I need some air."

I make a fast start to the archway. My brothers spring to their feet.

"Alone," I say without looking back.

"Avie, baby, you can't tell anyone about this."

***

"An arranged marriage!"

"Shh." I shoot forward, glaring at her through my brown-tinted sunglasses. A white satin scarf bound around my head. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"Best friends excluded," she disclaims.

"Kel, this is serious."

Her smile vanishes, and she leans forward, dropping her voice to a low conspiratorial whisper, "Sorry, it's just that this whole situation is similar to something I have on my TBR list."

"Yeah, except this is real." A maelstrom of emotions start rearing up inside me. "And it's not even the fake marriage I care about. It's my dad. He has lied to me my whole life, my brothers included. I looked up to him, Kel. My dad was this vision of heroism to me, a perfect paragon of justice, righteousness, and honour. I put my life on hold because I believed in what he was doing. I believed in him."

Kelsey nods, a dour look veils her face. "I get that you're hurt, but you don't know everything. You only know what he told you. You don't know what he had to sacrifice or the positions they forced him in. People aren't perfect, Avie. If I know, you should know that he loves you and he is a good man."

Tears burn behind my eyes, making me grateful for my sunglasses.

"I don't doubt that. Uncle Aldie is a good man, and making mistakes doesn't make him a bad one."

"I know," I murmur.

She and I sit at a table outside of a quaint coffee shop. The streets of the city are ever-bustling with people, cars zooming up and down the road. I take a sip of my cinnamon dolce latte, letting its creamy goodness offer me a slither of comfort.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Right." She bobs her head. "The scary Yakuza men."

I give her a look. "I'm mad at my family, but I'm not going to let them get hurt because of it. To protect them, I'll have to make a deal with the devil, and marry his son."

"Vance," she says, as if tasting his name. "It's weird that I haven't heard about him."

"Because his brother hogs all the spotlight."'

Kels snorts a laugh and samples her peach ice tea.

"Well, I have to open the shop soon, so we should get going."

We finish our drinks, pay, then leave. Kelsey's boutique is an approximate six-minute walk from here. My dad has been paranoid these past two weeks and until the alliance is finalised, my father has allocated me my own bodyguard. He doesn't ever speak or even make eye contact. As Kel and I walk down the sidewalk, he follows at a distance, clad in all-black with an earpiece.

"I never asked, but when are you meeting your future husband?"

"They haven't told me yet."

She glances at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry this is happening to you guys. But I know you'll get through it, you Du Ponts are smart. Besides, you have me, so you have everything you need."

I nudge my shoulder with hers. "Yeah, you're right."

"When am I not?" she says with tantalising confidence. She meets my gaze with a smile, then it thins, her eyes hone in on something past me. She brings us to a stop, then she goes closer to a stall with newspaper articles laid out on display. Kel gestures to it amusedly, looking back at me to see my reaction.

"Oh look, it's your soon-to-be brother-in-law," she says and looks back at the multitude of articles, with his name making headlines and his face splashed across the front cover. "It seems he has made quite the mess. Again."

I snatch off my sunglasses to scrutinise the scandal—depraved and disgusting.

I put them back on. "Let's go."

I hook my arm with hers, dragging her away from the stall.

"The irony of this union," she comments with a chortle. "A family of public servants, a house of saints marrying into the house of sinners."

My phone buzzes and I pull it out to see a single notification on my lock screen.

It's time.

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