"We're not going to the hotel," Isa said as the car bypassed the turn for the Pierre.
"No," Gerhardt replied, not looking up from his phone. "We're going to Teterboro. The jet is waiting."
"Jet? Where are we going?"
"Las Vegas."
Isa blinked. "You're joking. A drive-thru wedding?"
"New York has a twenty-four-hour waiting period. I don't have twenty-four hours. The board meets Monday morning."
Two hours later, they were at 40,000 feet. The interior of the Gulfstream was cream and gold. A team of three lawyers sat on one side of the table. Isa sat on the other, a fresh change of clothes-a white power suit provided by his assistant-draped over her frame.
A document the size of a phone book landed in front of her.
"The Prenuptial Agreement," the lead lawyer, a weasel-faced man named Sterling, announced. "Standard terms. In the event of divorce, you leave with what you came with. Which, currently, is a suitcase of wet clothes."
Isa opened the document. She pulled a red pen from the holder.
"Clause 4.2," she said, circling a paragraph. "Infidelity. If he cheats, the NDA is void, and I get twenty percent of his liquid assets."
Sterling scoffed. "Mr. Phillips does not cheat."
"Then it shouldn't be a problem to sign it," she countered, flipping the page. "Clause 12. Section B. 'Wifely Duties'." She looked up at Gerhardt. "Define duties."
Gerhardt signaled the lawyers to leave. They filed out into the cockpit cabin, looking offended.
"Sleep," Gerhardt said.
"Excuse me?"
"You are required to sleep in my bed. Every night."
Isa felt her face heat up. "I'm not a sex doll, Gerhardt. If you want sex, that's a separate negotiation."
He looked at her with a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "Not sex, Isa. Sleep. Actual sleep. Unconsciousness."
He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I have... difficulty sleeping. Last night, with you, was the first time in ten years I slept more than two hours without medication. You are a biological anomaly. My anchor."
Isa stared at him. "You want me to be your teddy bear."
"Call it what you want. But if you aren't in the bed, the deal is off."
She tapped the pen against her chin. This was bizarre. But it was also leverage.
"Fine," she said. "But I have one more addition."
"Go on."
"The Phillips Auction House. I know you have a private vault of unlisted items. I want first right of refusal on any items originating from the Burke estate."
Gerhardt's eyes narrowed slightly. "Burke? Your mother's family?"
"Yes."
"Sentimental?"
"Something like that."
"Fine." He signed the last page and slid it to her.
They landed in Vegas at sunset. They went straight to a chapel off the strip. It wasn't the Elvis one, thank god, but it was sterile and smelled of lilies and desperation.
The officiant droned on. They said "I do" like they were agreeing to a business merger.
As soon as they signed the license, Gerhardt's phone buzzed.
"It's Helena," he said. He hit the video call button.
His face transformed instantly. The cold mask melted into a look of adoration that was terrifyingly convincing. He pulled her into his side.
"Grandmother," he beamed. "We did it. Isa couldn't wait."
Isa forced a smile, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Hi, Helena. I'm just so happy."
"Let me see the ring," Helena demanded from the screen.
Isa froze. They didn't have rings.
Gerhardt didn't miss a beat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He flipped it open.
Inside sat a pink diamond the size of a quail egg.
He slid it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
"Beautiful," Helena crooned. "Welcome to the family, dear. Try to survive."
The call ended. Gerhardt dropped his arm immediately.
"Nice acting," he muttered.
Isa looked down at the ring. It was heavy. It felt like a shackle.
"Whose was this?" she asked.
"My mother's," he said, walking toward the exit. "She died wearing it. Don't lose it."
