The Lawless Man With A Thousand Chains

002 The Woman in Red

Vanessa pursed her lips and set her glass down slowly and gracefully.

"You have the wrong person. I did not place any ads. And even if I had, walking up to a stranger in public to announce something this private is not how such discreet arrangements work."

Damon remained seated, his posture relaxed. "The woman on the phone said she'd be in a red dress, sitting at the front table. You match the description. If it's not you, I'll leave."

First the bag of valuables vanished, then the client. He noted the chaos with nothing more than a faint shrug.

Vanessa studied the stranger for a long moment. There was something special about this man—nothing fazed him. He didn't fidget. He didn't apologize.

Most men caught in this embarrassing situation would already be backpedaling. This one had tremendous composure and patience to spare. He could be useful.

Vanessa had come here tonight because her friend had promised to bring a candidate for their fake marriage plan. The candidate never showed up. Instead, this handsome stranger had appeared, bold enough to say the unsayable without flinching.

She leaned back and asked, "You need money, right?"

"Yes. Right away."

Vanessa nodded. "I'm not the classified ads woman you're looking for. However, I have a different proposition that is short-term and legal. Are you interested?"

"Sure. Tell me."

"I will pay you for marrying me tonight. We will have to make it look real for my family for a week or two. Then we shall end it with a clean divorce. Five thousand dollars now. Five thousand when it's over."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "A fake marriage? Why?"

Vanessa glanced around the lounge, then lowered her voice. "Two days ago, my grandfather revealed that he signed a marriage contract in my name when I was little. But I have no interest in spending my life with a stranger who may turn out to be a loser."

She leaned back, nursing her drink. "My friend was supposed to bring someone tonight who could play the role of a contract husband. You showed up instead. What do you say?"

Damon's expression stayed neutral, but he considered the proposal.

The actual marriage contract from his master—the one with the billionaire family name on it—was still out there somewhere in this city. This fake one could put a roof over his head and cash in his pocket while he figured out the rest.

"What's expected of me in this contract?" he asked.

A polite smile curved Vanessa's lips. "Tomorrow is my grandfather's seventieth birthday. You must attend and pretend you cannot keep your hands off me. It must be obvious to everyone how much we love each other, and how strong our marriage is.

"If the man my grandfather invited shows up, he'll see I'm taken and walk away. After that, you and I can go our separate ways."

Damon nodded slowly. "I can sell that. But I have one condition—you won't fall in love with me or come looking for my affection."

Vanessa's expression went blank for a second, then she gave a short, sharp laugh. Was this guy for real? "That will not be difficult."

They took a cab to Dorne City Hall. During the ride, Vanessa filled Damon in on the rest.

Her grandfather, Elias Quinn, believed the family's good fortune was tied to honoring an old debt contract with his friend.

Her father didn't approve of it. As far as Vanessa was concerned, she just wanted her life back.

The clerk behind the counter barely looked up from his forms. "Names?"

"Damon Huntley and Vanessa Quinn," she answered.

"Reason for marriage?"

"Love at first sight," Damon said without missing a beat.

The clerk snorted but stamped the papers. They signed the contract. There was no ceremony or music—no witnesses except the bored official and a witness-for-hire.

Outside, under the streetlights, Vanessa handed him a debit card. "There's five thousand on it already. I'll transfer the rest when we file the divorce. This job could take up to a week or more before I let you go."

"My rules are simple," she went on. "If anyone bothers me, you handle it as a partner would. And don't get any ideas about marriage rights, because this one exists only on paper. When our arrangement ends, you take the money and leave without another word."

"Understood," Damon said calmly. "We'll keep it clean. No complications."

Vanessa watched him for a second longer than necessary, then nodded and turned to leave. "I will pick you up tomorrow at ten. Wear a jacket that does not look like it came from a prison yard."

Damon stayed on the curb, the fake marriage certificate folded in his pocket and the debit card warm in his hand. He had flown here to fulfill his master's contract.

Yet he had just signed another one—with a woman who planned to burn it the moment it served its purpose.

Periander Fox always had strange words of wisdom. One of them: beautiful women come with hidden ledgers. Every time Damon started thinking the old man was senile, life proved him right.

His flip phone vibrated against his thigh. He answered the call.

A familiar, smooth voice from earlier spoke, now sounding desperate. "This is about the ad. Sorry, I could not reach the Rameses Lounge in time. Come to the Meridian Grand Hotel instead. Room No. 256. I will be there waiting for you."

Damon looked at the marriage certificate with Vanessa one last time, then tucked it away. Five thousand dollars would not last long in this city. He needed more.

The Meridian Grand's lobby smelled of polished marble and fresh flowers. Room 256 was at the end of a quiet hallway. He approached and knocked twice.

The door opened moments later. The woman who stood there was in her late twenties, with dark hair loose around her shoulders. She wore a thin-strapped top that barely held on, a short skirt, and black stockings with delicate lace visible at the tops.

She smiled, slow and seductive, and stepped aside. "You're finally here. Come in and let us begin."