Filthy Rich Husband (18+)

Chapter Three

Present Day

MAGGIE

Logan doesn't look annoyed; he looks downright furious.

You would think I pissed in his coffee, put glue in his shampoo, and drew a mustache on his pretty face with a sharpie while he was asleep.

The reason he's got his boxers in a twist is probably my father and his. Our sperm donors concocted a plan and came up with this ridiculous idea that getting us married would be the best thing that could happen to us.

I recall the embarrassing conversation I had yesterday with my father.

"Why would you want me to marry Logan of all people?" I asked him.

"Are you seriously asking me that? Do you remember I was the one who found your diary when you were fourteen with 'I heart Logan' in the last pages of the book."

"Dad, that is beside the point. I was fourteen and stupid at that time."

"Fourteen and stupid sounds accurate."

"I don't need another man in my life right now, and I told you why!"

My father looks like he's going to explode with pent-up anger. "And I told you why you need one. All your life, you've been stubborn, reckless, stupid and I let you make your own decisions, not anymore, Maggie."

"This is ridiculous," I say.

"Think about Chase. He needs a father in his life, someone who can teach him to ride a bike, be a better man!"

"You can be that person, Dad. I don't need a husband just to teach Chase to ride a freakin bike!"

"I'm getting old! I can't always be there for him. The boy sleeps with a Superman toy for godssake! He doesn't need to believe in a superhero that doesn't exist. That emptiness he has to look up to someone needs to be filled with a man who can be a perfect Dad for Chase."

"You're just using Chase for what you want. You want to kick me out of this house." Tears threatened to blur my vision.

"If I don't do what's necessary, you'll destroy your life."

"How is Logan okay with this?"

"He's probably not but his father is going to convince him."

"I'm not doing this."

I hear my father sigh as he sits down on the couch in front of me. "There's something else you need to know, something that I'm ashamed to say."

I don't want to ask him, but I do anyway.

His steel-gray eyes cut through mine, and if I thought my father was acting, that particular thought blows out of the window. It's genuine shame he's feeling.

"I'm bankrupt."

"What?"

He hangs his head in guilt. "The company has debts in millions of dollars that I don't know how I'm going to pay."

"When did this happen?"

"A year." He croaks out.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

I recall the shopping trips I'd taken and the credit card reaching its limit. Buying tons of toys for Chase because he asked, never having a fucking clue that this is what was happening behind the scenes. I couldn't even work because Chase took too much of my time to think about a job.