knows of anything for sale in the area. Something suitable for a wife,” I instruct, signaling the end of our conversation. Pierce nods. “I’ll let you know.” With that, he disappears out the door, leaving me with only my thoughts. I pity this poor girl—Brenna. My only hope is that she has no dreams of romance and love. No illusions about what this marriage will be. It’s nothing more than an alliance between our families. I can’t—won’t—love her. Not ever. I don’t have it in me.
