The man's finger tapped on the desk he leaned against.
"No heir, and complete fidelity? That's a bit… tricky."
"I don't care. If you want this relationship to get somewhere, it'll go at my pace." Beatrice reminded him sharply.
He stared into the distance, "Listen, I don't give a shit about who I marry and kids and that stuff. But my mother won't be happy."
"I do not care."
She added, "And, did I mention this stays between us?"
Nathaniel locked eyes with her, face emotionless.
"You're asking for a lot."
"I'm guaranteeing my own safety. Your mother must have some kind of objective, marrying me to you. And I have a stinking feeling it involves childbirth."
He froze.
Shit.
"...Good guess."
She raised a brow. "And you admit it so easily?"
"I thought I wasn't supposed to withhold information?"
His voice softened, "And… I promised you I help get you out of this mess."
Beatrice paused, her eyes slightly wide.
For a moment, she didn't speak. Neither did Nathaniel. He just fiddled with a loose lock of hair.
"...Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why…" she repeated, "are you so calm about this? So willing to help me?"
He didn't respond.
Instead, he pushed himself off the table and unlocked the door.
"We should get going." He mumbled.
Beatrice stared, but didn't probe further.
If he didn't want to tell her, she didn't want to know.
. . .
Clink.
Ice dropped into a crystal liquor glass, followed by whiskey.
Nicholas picked up his glass, and sipped at the drink. The flavor burned down his throat, a familiar satisfaction.
"You should really cut back on the alcohol," Chelsea said from beside him.
"I can hold my drinks," he muttered, the bronze liquid swirling in the glass.
"I know you can," she shook her head, "but it's not good for your health."
He hummed dismissively. Chelsea sighed.
"Soon, Collins Corporation will be at the peak of its popularity. Business is soon to be booming." he said to himself, a smirk on his face.
The wife was silent.
"Actually, it would've been more beneficial if the woman didn't divorce. She would've had more to her name with her husband's assets."
"...What?"
Nicholas leaned forward, staring into the distance. "I've had my men do some digging on Aurelia Woode."
"She's divorced, that's why she still has her family surname."
The woman's eyes were wide.
As the information sank in, she managed a low mumble. "Then… Why is it Nathaniel 'Victor' and not 'Woode'?"
"The children kept the father's surname," he put his lips to the glass, downing the liquid in one breath.
"I hear Nathaniel put up quite a fight. To keep the name and follow his passion, becoming a professor in Hamilton. In return, he gave up the right of his marriage to his mother."
"Oh," she stared at the ring on her finger, "that's why he didn't go against his mother's words. For the most part, that is."
He hummed again. "Took you long enough."
"But… I'm worried. What if something goes wrong? What if they don't treat Bea right?"
"She divorces," he stated simply.
"But… I don't want her paying the price if things go wrong."
"We'll figure it out." he grumbled, "The board member wouldn't have recommended her if Hamilton, not to mention both parties, didn't benefit from this."
"Right," she went quiet, allowing silence to settle over the room.
. . .
"What?"
Aurelia sighed, "It's not even that shocking, stop being so dramatic."
It was a quiet day in the Woode Mansion, until Aurelia came back home. This past week, both her children, Melaine and Theodore Victor, had come back to the US when they heard the news.
Melaine had been filled in, but Theodore was still clueless. So, the mother decided for all of them to gather at dinner and clear some things up.
"Bro's gonna get married to some random woman? Mel told me she was the love of-"
"Yes, a random woman." Aurelia snapped, not wanting him to repeat what she spead. But Nathan was already glaring at her.
Theodore cleared his throat, straightening. "So… when's the wedding?"
"Next month."
"Huh??"
"Theodore." She fixed him with a look, "I told you, it's not that shocking. I was looking for a bride anyway. It was a coincidence I met someone from Hamilton. He recommended Beatrice."
Theodore rubbed his chin, "Okay, I guess."
He glanced at Nathaniel, and then at Melaine. She was staring at their older brother too.
Nathan, however, was completely calm and collected.
Suddenly, he broke the silence.
"Since, this is an agreement," he started, "I should have my own terms, yes?"
They went silent. He wasn't wrong.
Aurelia watched him carefully. "And… what terms do you present?"
He sipped his wine, "A few. Or more."
The room was tense. For the mother, that move was sudden, but not entirely unexpected.
"Seems like my children take after me in ways more than one," she said with a sharp chuckle.
Nathaniel put his fork down, done with dinner. The two blondes stared at each other so intensely that sparks almost flew.
"Speak."
"Well then, if I may, nobody will command my wife except me," he began. Just the first few words earned a scoff from Aurelia.
"What-"
"Do not interrupt."
She went quiet, eyes narrowing.
"Whatever she does, however she acts or in whatever manner she speaks, consider it all an order from me."
Her finger tapped on the table furiously. "And… what authority do you hold in this house to order its master around?"
He leaned forward, voice dropping a few notches, "I am the Young Master, and rightful heir of both Woode Corporation, and the very Manor you sit in, Mother. Do not forget."
Her brow twitched, "I dare not imagine the lengths you would go to for this new wife of yours."
He leaned back again, crossing his arms, "Ah, yes, let me continue. You also do not control when I start a family, or in simple words, when she has children."
Her eyes went wide, her hands clenching into fists. "What did you say?"
"You heard me, only I decide that." Nathaniel pushed back his chair, and stood up.
"That is all. Good night."
He walked out of the dining room, calm and tall.
Aurelia, however, was reeling. "Who the fuck does he think he is?"
The younger siblings, who were quietly watching, did not think it was an appropriate time to interfere. They sat there, silently finishing their meals, in awe at their brother's confidence.
Melaine's mind, however, was also busy with something else.
For Nicholas Collins, declining such an excellent business opportunity was a sin. He got more benefit than them, since he never liked Beatrice anyway.
But her mother? Suspicious.Too suspicious.
She was always very particular in the activities the eldest son got involved in. Always practical, always professional.
But randomly having met with someone from the college Nathan worked at, him recommending the woman, and then she agrees?
This marriage sounded too convenient to be coincidental.
Just who was pulling the strings behind the scenes, and what was their motive?