Contractually Yours (The Lasker Brothers, #4)

by Nadia Lee

I don’t know why I ever thought he was my dad. “I didn’t know you were so worried, Roderick.” He flinches in shock, his olive complexion paling a little. This is the first time I’ve ever called him by his first name. I almost laugh. I don’t know why he’s acting so stunned.

Mr. Coat was right. If I don’t respect myself, I’ll be left with nothing.

Mom often told me she fell in love with Roderick when she looked into his eyes, like that could excuse years of neglect.

he’s taking advantage, spending my money lavishly on himself and his twins. He calls it “sharing.” I call it “theft.” The laws of Nesovia say he’s in the right because he has a penis and happens to be my biological father.

My brothers are just as outraged as I am about the situation. We only have each other, and we always watch our backs. An attack against one of us is an attack against all of us.

I’m a thirty-four-year-old CEO who’s set in his ways. The only exciting thing I do these days is play tennis, because polo matches take too long.

She seems even taller than she was at her mother’s funeral, with shapely legs that go on for miles. Most women that tall feel self-conscious and wear flats or stoop a little to make themselves appear smaller. Not Lucienne.

There’s a stubborn set to her chin that says she knows she’s not only in control but will be victorious. Like a Valkyrie before a battle.

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to explain herself—she’s convinced nobody will believe her. And she’s going to cope by pretending she isn’t affected, no matter how many people point fingers and judge her.

I keep listening in mute fascination. I’ve never been around a person with such an unpredictable bulldozer of a mouth before. It’s amazing how he can say things that are simultaneously complimentary and offensive.

I’ve never had any expectations about a perfect marriage—not for myself, anyway. I’ve never sighed over a wedding dress, or daydreamed about what it’d be like to have a loving spouse and family, because none of that felt attainable. After all, I grew up watching Mom and Roderick.

To this date, I wonder if Mom truly didn’t know about Roderick’s infidelity or if she just wanted to pretend she didn’t so she could keep him.

“I don’t want to treat our female employees differently, or have them feel discouraged that they may not be able to climb the corporate ladder like the men. And pulling the company away from a country that doesn’t respect women is a good starting point.”

I read somewhere that victims sometimes blame themselves because they want to believe the world is logical and they need to cling to the belief that bad situations can be avoided if they themselves do better.

Luce just sits with her jaw tight, her eyes glazed with pain. The tears fall silently and endlessly. Her breathing is even too. It’s like she knows nobody’s going to comfort her—she’s alone in her grief.

She was sad and lost, and I told her to fight. To even the scales. She must’ve taken that advice to heart. And she fought hard and valiantly. Did everything to defend her kingdom. And then I destroyed all her effort. Left her kingdom in ruins.

So many men have failed her. Her grandfather, who didn’t have faith in her because she’s a girl. Her father, who was unfaithful to her mother and undermined her. Fiancés who cheated on her and thought nothing of it. I’m sure they all had something pretty to say to justify what they’ve done. People like that always do.

“What happens if I never believe you love me?” I whisper. Even now this feels like a dream. “Never say never, Valkyrie.”

What am I if I don’t have anything to give back? What do I mean to people who don’t want something…external?