Page 232 of The Marriage Clause

"No."

"Everett—"

"The ring is yours. For you and the baby. If anything ever happens."

She opens her mouth to argue.

"I'll make it work on my own," I say. "I don't need the ring to take care of my family."

Her eyes fill all over again.

"You don't have to prove anything to me," she says. "You already have."

I kiss her. Slower this time. Taking my damn time about it, because I've earned that much.

My hands are at the zipper of her dress before I've fully decided to move them. Her fingers are dragging up my chest, and I am halfway to carrying her toward the bedroom when my phone starts vibrating in the pocket of my discarded trousers.

I ignore it.

It keeps ringing.

Aria laughs breathlessly against my mouth. "That feels ominous."

"Everything feels ominous."

It stops. Starts again immediately.

I let out a low curse, grab the phone, and answer without looking.

"This better be good."

Christian doesn't waste a second.

"The legacy clause."

I stop moving. Aria's hands are still on my chest. My own hand is still fisted in the fabric of her dress.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"No," Christian says. "Because it wasn't in the original trust. It was an addendum Conrad made months before his death. Genevieve dropped it off in my office without a single word. Apparently Sienna got to her first."

I look at Aria.

She's watching my face now, trying to read whatever just changed in it.

"I'm still not following," I say.

Christian exhales sharply through the phone.

"The legacy clause protects future generations from losing their inheritance because of prior ones. If a child is conceived during the first year of a qualifying marriage, the parent retains their inheritance for the purpose of passing it down."

I stare at the pool tiles at my feet.

Then at Aria.

Then at nothing.

"Say that again."