CHAPTER FOUR

#Dorothy’s POV#

Dinner time.

Also awkward.

The long table stretches between the three of us like an abysm. I can’t even reach the salt without making it obvious I’m desperate for flavor, or distraction.

Joel sits at the head with his legs crossed and his knife gliding smoothly through some overpriced cut of beef. Rico lounges on the far end with his chair tilted back, already halfway through his wine. I nibble at bread like it’s the only thing safe on this table.

“I’ve had your bags moved to the guest house upstairs,” Joel says, not bothering to look up.

“Oh, Joel, you treat me like a brother so much. I’m touched,” Rico replies, grinning.

He clutches his chest in fake emotion and bats his lashes. I stifle a laugh. Joel does not.

Joel rolls his eyes. “It’s important for you to know that there’s a time limit to your duration here. The faster you get the job done, the better it is for all of you.”

“All of us?” Rico raises a brow. “Calm down, Joe. At least let me get back into the city and relax into this mansion before we get into… making babies.”

He throws a wink at me as he says it.

Joel groans and shoves a forkful of food into his mouth like he’d rather stab someone with it.

Rico doesn’t stop. “So what exactly is the arrangement here? Am I supposed to wine and dine your wife? Or do I get a turkey baster and a handshake after?”

“Shut up and eat,” Joel snaps.

There’s a pause. One that swells just long enough for the tension to vibrate.

Then Rico turns toward me.

“So… Dorothy, right? You from the city or…?”

I blink, surprised.

He’s talking to me directly now. Not in that weird third-person detached way.

“Um… the countryside originally. Then Baltimore. Then… wherever Joel’s business dragged me.”

“Do you like it here?”

“It’s quiet.”

“That’s not a yes.”

“It’s not a no.”

Rico grins. “I like you already.”

I let out a small laugh. I can’t help it. He’s annoying, but charming in the exact opposite way Joel is.

Joel groans loudly and stands, muttering something about checking a report. He disappears into the hallway like the sound of our banter physically pains him.

I glance down at my plate. I’m suddenly not that hungry anymore.

“Does he always do that?” Rico asks, pushing aside his plate. “Storm off the minute he stops being the center of attention?”

I don’t respond at first. Just sip from my glass of water.

He doesn’t let the silence grow. “So, what’s your deal?”

I glance at him. “My deal?”

“You know. Your story. How’d you end up with a guy like him? Arranged marriage? Pact? Blackmail?”

I smirk without meaning to. “Something like that.”

He leans forward to put his elbows on the table, genuinely interested. “Seriously. You don’t talk like someone who’s been... claimed. Not in the emotional sense, anyway.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Claimed?”

“You know. Like someone who’s been chosen. Loved. Owned.” He waves a hand. “Power dynamics. Power couples. That kinda shit.”

“Sounds toxic.”

He shrugs. “Sometimes it is.”

I toy with the edge of my napkin. “I don’t think Joel’s capable of love.”

“No offense, but… yeah. I got that vibe.”

There’s a moment of silence, then:

“I don’t want to do this,” I blurt.

He tilts his head. “Do what?”

“This. The whole breeding experiment. I didn’t sign up to have my body used as some inheritance loophole.”

“I figured.”

“But here we are,” I sigh.

He watches me a little too closely. “You don’t hate me for being part of it?”

I look up at him. Meet his gaze head-on.

“No. Not yet.”

He gives a lazy smile. “Fair enough.”

For a second, we just sit there.

Then I add, “But don’t try anything cute. You might charm Joel’s side chicks, but I bite.”

His grin widens. “Oh, I like you.”

I roll my eyes and stand. “Goodnight, Rico.”

He leans back in his chair, arms behind his head. “Sweet dreams, heiress maker.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll try not to… but no promises.”

Later that night, Joel returns from his sulking or drinking session. I don't care.

I’m curled up on the edge of the bed when I hear the door creak open. He walks in like he owns the air. Like everything in this room belongs to him, including the silence.

He doesn’t say anything. Just walks to the bed and collapses onto it, arm flung over his face.

I stand up slowly.

He lifts his head. “Where are you going?”

I shrug. Innocently. “Oh, I thought it would be better if I spent time with the man who’s to impregnate me.”

He jolts up, teeth gritted. “Dorothy—”

“I mean, you said it yourself. The faster the job gets done, the better for all of us, right?” I smile sweetly.

His nostrils flare. “I need you by my side tonight. Stay…”

I roll my eyes. “And the nights I needed company, who were you getting down on? Was it me or Felicia or Chrissy or Teena?”

“Dora… please…”

“Jerk off to Rihanna’s pic. You know where the lubricant is.”

I walk out without another word.

A pillow flies and hits the door behind me.