Page 2 of The Marriage Clause

Right now, he’s practically whispering. Which means someone is about to have a very bad day.

"You wasted your time coming down here. I’m not having this conversation with you. I have real work to get back to."

I freeze outside his door, coffee in hand, and his door is cracked open. Just enough to hear. Not enough that he’ll see me.

"I’m just saying, big brother, you don’t sound like a man excited to pick out floral arrangements."

The second voice is warmer. Smoother. Amused in a way Everett hasn’t been since I’ve known him.

"I don’t need reminders, Levi," he snaps. "I know the deadline."

Levi. As in Levi Kauffman. The second-oldest brother and CEO of the Kauffman Casino and Hotel Division. The one who was a world-famous poker player before Conrad Kauffman passed and left his fortune to his eight children. I’ve seen Levi in the news enough—confident, polished, someone who wears charm like a custom suit.

I should leave. I should leave. This is not my conversation, not my business, and I’m one bad cup of coffee away from unemployment. But apparently, I have the impulse control of a goldfish, because my feet are not moving, and my ears are very much tracking the conversation.

Levi chuckles. "Do you? Because you don’t look like a man eager to walk down the aisle."

"What do I have to be eager about? If marriage weren’t a clause in the trust, I wouldn’t be considering it."

My hand tightens on the mug. My heart stutters.

Marriage? A clause in the trust?

"Required is a nice way of saying we’re being held hostage," Levi says. "It’s not just you. If any of us breaks the clause, excluding Everly, we all lose our inheritance."

I clap my free hand over my mouth to muffle back the gasp trying to slip past my lips. The coffee sloshes at my quick movement.

Everything? But why is Everly excluded and her brothers aren’t?

"At least our father wasn’t a big enough dick to force her into marriage."

I don’t know much about their father, except that every one of his children, besides his youngest daughter, Everly, was conceived using surrogates.

Conrad Kauffman was known around Seattle for his quirks—a recluse who threw galas, a billionaire who handpicked the mothers of his children like he was casting for a film. When word got out after his passing that he had seven other children he hadn’t raised, it only confirmed what Seattle already suspected. The man was odd. His legacy is even more odd.

"So what are you going to do?" Levi asks.

Everett blows out a breath. "I don’t know. Christian’s been on my ass about it every day for the last few months."

Christian Kauffman—heir number seven in the family tree, just above Everly who’s the baby of the family at twenty-seven years old. Christian is the brother who controls the Kauffman legal department.

"That’s because he’s had to be," Levi continues. "You have three more weeks until you turn thirty-five, and if you aren’t married by midnight on your birthday, we’re all screwed."

Weeks. He has weeks.

"I know what’s at stake. Don’t forget this will be your problem next."

"Only if you don’t screw it up first."

"I can’t conjure a wife out of thin air, Levi."

"What about Sienna?"

Everett scoffs so hard it almost sounds like he choked on something. "Why would I marry Sienna?"

"Because she’s available, she understands the trust, and Kauffman Enterprises is one of her biggest clients. If we all lose our inheritance, she loses half her firm’s yearly income."

Sienna. I’ve seen the social media posts—her at billionaire events, photographed next to Everett like she’s been photoshopped into his life. But she’s never come by the arena, and I’ve never heard her name leave his mouth until now.