Page 19 of Worthy: Cassius and Faith
“Good morning, Faith.” Gina smiled at me. She looked tired—probably the news of Cassius Blackwood’s impending marriage was spreading like wildfire throughout the club. I immediately felt guilty that I hadn’t had a chance to tell Macy or Tate about it, let alone my brother. But there was little I could do.
Gina motioned to the young woman next to her, who had a sleek black bob, a bright blue dress, and trendy-looking glasses. “This is your attorney, Akira Zhang. She’s represented numerous Accommodating employees in contract matters.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Akira.” I didn’t bother with a fake smile—I decided I was done with them for one morning.
“Faith.” The attorney nodded at me, all business. She sat down and opened an enormous laptop. Pulling a document on the screen, she asked, “Have you read this thing yet?”
I shook my head.
“It’s fucked up. I’m going to tear it apart.” Akira’s fingers flew over the keypad.
“It is?” I asked. “You are?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Of course it is, and of course I am. He’s a billionaire, and you’re twenty. The contract is written completely in his favor.”
“Oh.” I felt like she’d punched me in the gut. Was Cassius trying to take advantage of me?
“Don’t take it personally—it’s business. That’s just how it works. If he didn’t try to leverage his situation and protect his assets, he’d be an idiot, and Cassius Blackwood is not an idiot.” Akira smiled. “And neither are you. We’ll do this together. I’m here to help you. You’re my client, and I don’t let people fuck with my clients.”
I gaped at her. Having a lawyer seemed pretty awesome.
Akira Zhang adjusted her glasses. She took a sip of water. She cracked her knuckles. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Seven hours later, both Cassius and I had signed the pre-nuptial agreement. He’d offered me a ten-million-dollar payout if we divorced, but I declined. Instead, I asked to retain control over my own money, taking it with me if the marriage dissolved. Also, I asked him to pay for Lucas’s medical expenses and care for the rest of his life. Cassius agreed to set up a trust in my brother’s name.
Lucas was safe. Lucas would always be safe.
I felt like even that was greedy, but Cassius wanted to give me more. Akira wanted me to take more. But in the end, I believed I’d already been compensated fairly. I had enough money to care for myself. If we divorced, Cassius would still pay for our child.
If my child was fine, and Lucas was fine, I would be fine.
More importantly, I would still be me. I wouldn’t be taking anything that didn’t belong to me.
And at the end of the negotiations, after hours of discussions about trusts, heirs, and inheritances—but no mention of love, loyalty, or forever—that felt more important than ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
tradition
Cassius
Faith seemed reserved during the negotiations. I was disappointed that she wouldn’t accept my offer of ten million dollars—at my level of wealth, I could easily afford more. Even her lawyer seemed frustrated, but Faith was resolute. All she wanted was the money she was bringing to the marriage and money to care for Lucas, which I agreed to.
More than ever, I felt I’d made the right choice. Faith didn’t want my money. She wanted a better life for her family, and I respected that. I hadn’t planned on marrying the girl. But now that she was carrying my child, nothing could sway me. Both Sterling and Rhodes cautioned me against jumping into marriage, but I’d never been more certain of my path.
My heir would have a family. They would have the world at their feet. I could give my child the safety and security I’d lost when I was young when my parents died, and I was left to shoulder my family’s burdens alone.
An unwelcome thought of Anya, my nanny, crept into my mind. She’d been with me during that dark time when I lost my family. I’d thought that her affection was sincere, but I’d found out from one of our staff that Anya had bragged about having me wrapped around her finger. I’d been her puppy dog, but she was a cruel master, only out for herself. I’d vowed never again. On the eve of my marriage, I felt I’d kept that promise to myself. Faith and I had just signed a contract. Our relationship’s parameters were clear. We had rules; we had security. Every detail had been negotiated.
I eagerly returned home, searching for Faith. I found her upstairs in one of the guest rooms, moving clothes into a drawer. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh! You startled me.” Faith’s face looked tired and drawn; it had been a long day.
I stared at her clothes in the drawer. “Are you moving in here?”
“Just for tonight,” she said. “We’re getting married tomorrow, remember? We’re not supposed to spend the night before our wedding together.”
“I hadn’t thought of that tradition,” I admitted.
