Power Play: A marriage of convenience novella (Sin City Novellas Book 1), page 1
Power Play
A marriage of convenience novella
Esme Lennon
Copyright © 2023 by Esme Lennon
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Esme Lennon Author.
The story, all names, characters, most locations and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased) and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Jules at Covers by Jules
Edited by Ria at Moon and Bloom Editing
ISBN: 9798866447404
First edition 2023
Trigger warnings
This book is intended for adult readers due to the content included.
Trigger warnings:
Mention of suicide, spanking, talk of sexual assault, blindfolding, violence/torture, stabbing, murder, alcohol, talk of drugs, drink spiking, mild bondage, explicit sex scenes, panic attacks, 8 year age gap.
For those who always doubt themselves:
You can do anything you put your mind to. Just believe in yourself.
I believe in you.
Playlist
Rival – Ruelle
Burning in Desire – Chris Grey
Eyes Don't Lie – Isabel LaRosa
Earned It – The Weeknd
Again – Noah Cyrus
Power Over Me – Dermot Kennedy
Lost in the Fire – Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd
Under Your Skin – Seeb & R. City
Oh My God – Adele
Wicked Game – Lusaint
Adventure of a Lifetime – Coldplay
wRoNg – ZAYN (feat. Kehlani)
"In many ways, the art of love is largely the art of persistence." – Albert Ellis
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also By
1
Claudia
“We have a month deadline to pay off the debt. The bank won’t give us an extension or another loan. This is our lifeline, Querida.”
My father’s hands delicately grasp my mother’s cheeks as his thumbs caress her upper cheek bones lightly. Worry and uncertainty fills his features; his chestnut brown eyes grow dull and his thick brows pull together.
“And there’s nothing we can do to save our home?” My mother pleads, but the way she drops her head after the sentence leaves her mouth shows she knows there are no other options.
I swear I feel my heart break after witnessing my parents in a moment of vulnerability. My chest aches as anguish fills my body. My body feels heavy, like I have weights strapped to my ankles in the middle of the sea.
I didn’t know my family’s financial situation was this bad.
One rule we’ve always had in my family is that we don’t talk about money. My parents go out to work and always have food on the table for me and my younger brother, Thian. We never owned any designer clothing or accessories, but my wardrobe was always full and if there was anything I needed, my parents always got it for me. School supplies, education, healthcare, it’s always been there for us. If it was something I wanted, then I had to earn my own money and buy it myself. As my father has always said, while we often think they come under the same category, want and need are two different things. One gets us through life, one fits into social norms.
Any money struggles my parents have had, they’ve hid it from us. Until now, when I stupidly decided to come downstairs for a glass of water and ended up eavesdropping on their conversation.
“There’s nothing, Shannen. The owner of our apartment block is upping the price and there’s nowhere else to go within our budget. I’m sorry, mi amor.” My father’s declaration prompts me to stop snooping and head back up to my room, ignoring my arid throat.
I swear I feel the color wash from my face. My blood feels ice cold as the realization of a struggling future smacks me in the face. I feel useless as I beg my body to remove itself from this state of shock and think of a solution.
I give myself a choice. I either sit here and drown in my own sorrows, or I switch to desperation and actually try and help my parents.
Tiptoeing my way back upstairs, my brain burns with hundreds of ideas storming through it. From gambling to becoming a stripper, ways to make money flick through my mind like a slideshow.
Swinging my wardrobe doors open so fast that a gust of wind fans me, I mentally write a list of what I could sell. Except, there’s nothing. Nothing that hasn’t been worn multiple times by me and nothing worth buying.
Turning around, I pick out anything else in my room worth selling.
My jewelry? I wince. Try again, Claud. There’s not a single piece in there that’s valuable. It’s all sentimental pieces that cost less than ten bucks.
My laptop? I’d be fired, considering it’s a company laptop and not actually mine to sell. I tried so hard to score my heritage officer trainee position, if I lost it, I’d be more of a burden to my parents than someone trying to help.
I love my job; I learn how to do the job without being sat at a college desk with paper and a pen in front of me. But I’m on a fixed contract with a fixed wage. I only get paid enough to give my parents my share of the rent and groceries. I have barely any spending money for myself left over.
Defeat engulfs me. I have nothing.
Slumping on my worthless double bed, my head finds a place in my hands. White dots blur my vision as my palms press into my eyes. My mind is a blank space, lacking in solutions.
But just when I accept my failure, a sudden memory assaults my mind. A dangerous solution that could be our family’s saving grace. A stupid, and possibly useless idea that only a desperate person in need would follow up.
And that’s exactly what I am.
Desperate.
I shake my head as I stare into nothingness, screaming for my sensible thoughts to come forward and talk me out of this. This is insanity. It’s rational and risky, and I shouldn't even be considering it. The ache that takes over my body is fuelled by my two minds. One is telling me not to do this, but the other is screaming at me, reminding me of the fate my family will face if a solution is not sought.
I swallow, forcing the nausea that’s threatening to make an appearance, down back into my stomach. Even my body is warning me of what a colossal mistake this is, but if I don’t try, I’ll never forgive myself.
***
Loud cheers echo inside one of Casamount’s popular bars, The Coven, making me gulp back the anxiety creeping in my mind and focus on the main target here.
I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion in my pink and white watermelon pajama shorts and matching shirt, but my beige dust coat covers my questionable fashion choice. I show my ID, unsure of why I'm intimidated by security considering I'm twenty one, and make my way inside.
Instant loud cheers echo throughout the charcoal and turquoise themed bar as a middle-aged man sings Highway to Hell by AC/DC on karaoke. There isn’t a free table in sight as occupiers sit, chat and drink, and the bar on the left wall is equally as busy with loud bellows of laughter and glasses being chucked forcefully into the dishwasher by staff.
My eyes scan the room as my feet stay rooted, looking for one man in particular. He’s a regular here, and spends every Friday night in The Coven, so I know he’s here somewhere.
A sudden low laugh comes from the bar area attracting my attention, and like the universe knew I was looking for him, I spot the one person I’m searching for. I don’t give myself time to think up a plan of action before I’m pacing over towards him. His aged ivory skin shows he’s sitting in the older-age category as his mousy brown and gray beard sports a short length. His green eyes are showing signs of tipsiness as they sit slightly closed and his cap hides his graying hair. He’s dressed in casual clothes with a pint of beer in one hand, while using his other to gesture while he talks.
“Hi!” I exclaim, putting on a fake smile and my best flirting eyes. “Any of you fellas want to buy me a drink?” I address the three men sitting at the bar, throwing one in particular a bone.
“Sure thing, honey. A gin and tonic good for you?” His thick voice matches his elder man's look. I have to mentally stop my fist from squeezing in success as I get his attention much easier than expected.
“A beer is good for me.”
“Ohh?” His brows raise in surprise.
“What?” I counter. “You’ve never seen a woman drink a beer before?” I tease.
“Not one as pr etty as you.” He winks, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from gagging.
He gestures to his friend to his left to move out of his seat, which he reluctantly does, and offers it to me. I sit, noting his two companions now stand behind us, but engaging in their own conversation, giving me what may be my only chance to save my family.
“What’s a pretty lady like yourself doing all alone in here?” He looks around before meeting my eyes.
“To flirt with you, obviously.” I emphasize the last word as the barman hands me my beer. He looks at me for payment, pointing at the card machine in front of me. “He’s paying,” I point to my right.
“To flirt with me, huh?” He bites his lip as he looks me up and down.
“No. Not really.” I deadpan, wiping the smile off my face. Straightening my spine and lifting my chin, I keep my expression serious. “Edgar Gray, owner of the Edge Apartments block. Ruiner of lives.” Venom drips from my final statement as I fight the urge to spit at him.
His flirtatious aura suddenly disappears as he frowns in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Am I wrong?” I question.
He stutters as he struggles to defend my very correct statement.
“Look, I didn’t come here for a fun night out.” I lean forward, so he can hear me loud and clear. “I came to speak to you about the apartments. I overheard a conversation you had a couple weeks ago-”
He scoffs, interrupting me. “If you weren’t in the conversation, it wasn’t for your ears, honey.”
“Hard to not be in the conversation when you speak loud enough for the whole bar to hear, honey.” I throw back his nickname, as I struggle to bite my tongue when my family’s future sits at the forefront of my mind. “But I’m not here to argue. I heard you boasting about how much money your housing firm makes you, so obviously money is no issue for you, but it is for me and my family. We only make enough for us to get by, so you upping our payments is going to leave us homeless.”
“It’s the way of the world, honey. I don’t make the rules.” He sips his beer as he looks around, acting uninterested.
I grit my teeth at his use of honey. “Actually, you do make the rules. You’re the owner, remember?”
He shrugs at my once again true statement, but doesn’t offer any help. Impatience fills me as I desperately think about what I can do to solve this.
“Please, I plead. “I’ll do anything.”
His attention is darted back to me as his brows raise. “Anything?” He questions.
My eyes widen at the free reign I’ve just given him as panic claws at my insides. He must see it on my face because he laughs at me.
“Relax, I’m not some creep who’s going to make you blow me to make this go away.” He looks vacant as he’s engrossed in his own thoughts, making each second tick by slower and slower for me. As if he’s thought of the perfect plan, his eyes meet mine as a satisfied smile grows.
If anything, that smile makes me ten times more worried. God, this was a bad idea, I shouldn’t be here. Is it too late to abort?
“I have a proposal for you.”
“I’m listening.” I say barely above a whisper, anxious to find out his plan.
“No, I have a proposal for you, like marriage.” He deadpans.
I can’t stop my mouth from falling open as I’m unable to form words. “Marry…you?” I say with more disgust than intended.
“God no,” he waves me off. “I’ve been married once. Never again.”
A sigh of relief leaves my lips, but it’s sucked in again when I realize he still wants me to marry someone.
“My nephew. He’s been a little unhinged the past few months and it’s giving our family a bad name. With big businesses comes a lot of press, and we ideally want good press, not bad press.”
I struggle to comprehend what he’s asking of me. It’s not just a ‘work for me’ or ‘run my errands’ like I was hoping. It's an actual marriage to someone I don’t know, not for love.
There has to be another way. This can’t be it. The word no is on the tip of my tongue as warning flags shake in my brain. I don’t want this.
Tears gather in my lash line as I look at my feet, holding in a humorless laugh. I’m really considering signing away my future because there are greedy people in the world. I’m defeated and I feel pathetic, but I have no other choice.
It’s to save my family.
Blinking away the tears and taking a deep breath of composure, I lift my head up. “And that’s all you can offer?” I try my luck.
“That’s all I can offer. I’m a billionaire, I can get pretty much anything with a snap of my fingers. This is the only thing that I’ve been unsuccessful in finding,” he shrugs.
“And what would this mean for my family? Our payments won’t increase?”
“They’ll live at the Edge Apartments for free. No payment necessary.”
No payment necessary rings in my ears as the resolution to my family’s problem is right in front of me. No more debt and worry for my parents. A roof over their heads for the rest of their life. Yet I’m still filled with a terrible feeling in my gut.
I answer before I give my mind a chance to think logically as I nod at his agreement, “I’ll need a written contract.” He nods, but I need more. I need to know what I’m throwing myself into head first. “Your nephew, what’s he like?”
He breathes out a laugh. “Google him. All your information is on there.”
“Okay,” I pause awkwardly. “What’s his name?”
“Julian Gray.”
Of course. The arrogant millionaire who loves no one other than himself.
Before downing my full pint, I cheers to my new future, because this one is completely different to how I envisioned it in my five year plan.
2
Julian
Fucking perfect. She’s here, standing outside my house again. Pounding on my front door like my sleep needed interrupting.
Chucking on joggers and a t-shirt, I jog down my large, chalk white, central staircase and make my way to the double front doors.
Still pounding, I grit my teeth to suppress my annoyance. “I’m coming!” I yell, narrowing in towards the door knob. “Jesus Christ.”
Pulling the door open, I’m faced with my mother, who looks me up and down with distaste. Shock fucking horror, I’m in sweats at nine in the morning. Arrest me.
“Get dressed, we’re going for brunch.” She flicks her long, pin straight brunette hair over her shoulder, but her slim frame causes it to fall forward again. Her brown eyes look at me sternly before glancing inside my house. Unfortunately, I inherited those exact same judgy eyes and the same brunette hair. Except I didn’t get the pin straight memo, as loose waves gather on my disheveled head. “Is there someone else here with you?” Her judgey tone grates against me.
I scoff. “No.” But she looks at me like I’m a liar, so I open the door wider, inviting her in so she can take a look for herself. She doesn’t take me up on that invitation and stays standing on my doorstep. “Brunch isn’t until eleven.” I try to shut the door, but she stops it with her Louboutin heels.
“Well the Enchantment Cuisine does brunch early, so get up and get dressed, we’re going out.” She starts heading towards her car, shouting over her shoulder, “I’ll be in the car!”
Taking a deep breath to ease the sudden oncoming headache, I shut my door and head upstairs to get myself ready.
I shower, style my hair and get dressed. Gray checkered slacks, a white shirt and loafers, and my favorite wrist watch and I feel put together for the day. I chuck on a pair of sunnies and wipe over my stubble before spritzing on some aftershave. Making my way outside, I prepare myself for what my mother has in plan for me.
She’s been plotting and constantly checking in on me the past few months, like an annoying babysitter. I’ve dodged every advance she’s made so far, so I’m certain I can avoid this one too. I get it, she wants me to hop straight back onto the path I was on before the accident, but it’s just not going to happen. I may have promised her I would change and sort myself out and make it up to her, but my life isn’t what it used to be. I can’t go back to how it was. Not after what I saw.
