"Therese, please," Oliver said through wheezing laughter. "I know exactly what your background is. The richest man? Your dad? More like sugar daddy!"
"But hey," he added, "since you managed to snag someone like that, I'll be nice and not cancel the engagement. Don't even worry about paying back the $500,000.
"All you need to do is sign these agreements," Oliver said with a smug smile, tapping the papers. "And make sure the richest man gives the Jefferson family's business a little support every year. I swear, I'll do my best to cover for you and your father."
I was shocked because I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Oliver really thought he could turn me into some pawn in his backroom deal, like I was a contract he could sign off and cash in on.
And to think, if it weren't for the whole $500,000 mess, I might've actually fallen for his polished act. That suit, that voice, and the smile he flashed at board meetings used to fool me.
Without waiting for my response, Oliver hastily scribbled a few last-minute conditions onto the prenup and pushed the folder toward me.
"Therese, sign it."
Before I could say a word, Kiara panicked.
"Sir, how can someone like her be worthy of being your wife? Even if she does know the richest man, there's no way someone that rich would be eating those bargain-bin group meals!"
She kept going, maligning me, "If you ask me, she's just name-dropping to scare you! Trying to bait you into marrying her. You can't fall for that!"
Oliver looked rattled for a moment, clearly thrown off. Then he let out a long, theatrical sigh and adopted that fake helpless tone I was all too familiar with.
"Kiara, whether Therese is a gold-digger or not, once she signs, she can't back out. Not after we're married. And don't forget, if I don't marry her, my dad won't hand over the Jefferson shares."
And there it was.
This entire engagement? It had nothing to do with me.
I was just a shortcut and a stepping stone to the power Oliver was aiming for. Marrying me was part of his corporate climb, nothing more.
And Kiara? The way she was suddenly clawing to stop it told me everything I needed to know.
She had something to hide.
Her appearance, the brands she wore, and the smug confidence radiating from her suggested she wasn't living on an assistant's salary. I was ready to bet my broken vase that she had access to another card—Oliver's second supplementary card.