you will have access to it for whatever you and Alex need," he snaps back at me. "Don't deprive my child because you are stubborn," he accuses.
I gasp, my mouth opening and closing three times before finding the right words.
" My son is never deprived of anything." My voice hardens.
"You're trying to deprive him of his father," he counters. "Besides, you're taking it the wrong way. I didn't say he's not taken care of."
"Well, I still don't want it, so you can shred those. I'm not signing them." I dismiss the papers with a wave.
"I'll get you to sign them eventually."
I open my mouth to argue further, but he continues.
"This one needs to be signed so we can take care of your last names."
"Our names?"
"Yes. You both will take my last name." He pushes a long, white paper toward me.
"Ha!" I shout, but quickly lower my voice. "Our names are just fine, thank you," I remark, pleased with how nonchalant I sound.
"You won't take my last name?" he asks, clearly frustrated.
I shake my head.
"And you'll deny our son his father and right to be a Knyght officially?"
I groan.
"He's growing up just fine as a Harlow. Alex and I will keep our last name."
The flare of his nostrils gives away his attempt to stay calm. Part of me hoped he would explode so I could kick him out.
"I understand the business need of your name. But, legally, your name should be changed to Knyght, both of your names."
"Not going to happen." I keep my nonchalant facade going.
Staring at each other, it becomes a contest of who will give in first.
"You're impossible." His voice raises an octave.
Ha, you blinked first, stalky! I win!
He stands and begins to pace.
"Well, you're ridiculous. Looks like we are match made in hell."
"Why? What is so ridiculous about these things?" He motions to the papers spread out on the table.
"What's ridiculous?!" I sit up to the edge of the chair. "Damon, we are a one night stand, drunk marriage in Vegas cliché. You want to change our lives for one night. We barely know each other and you want to hand over access to your money, your name, and everything. You don't want me. You want this new identity you're creating for Alex and me. Can't you see this won't work? You need to let go of your past and let this crazy idea of us go."
Before I can scramble out of the chair, he’s standing before me. Leaning forward, he braces his hands on either side of my slouched form.
"I will not let you go, either of you," he sneers. "So, get used to me being around, Mrs. Knyght."
Anger boils up from inside me, filling my limbs. I shove at his chest enough to make him sway, but not for him to release me from my chair prison.
"Move," I growl.
His right knee moves between my legs, pushing them apart.
"What are you—?"
I push at him as he drops to his knees between my parted thighs. His arms encircle my waist and his head falls into my lap.
"Please," he begs, a possessive desperation in his words.
"Please what?" I ask without moving, unsure of what he'll do next.
"Just let us be." His arms tighten around me.
My body starts to ache from the stiff posture I'm currently sitting in.
"If you are Alex's father," he tenses, "we can arrange visitations. You can be a part of his life. We don't have to be married for you to have rights to see him. That's if you are—"
"I am his father, Olivia." His voice is cold, exact. "And I don't just want visitations with him."
"Damon, please, I don't want—"
His arms tighten almost painfully.
"No, Olivia. This isn't just about Alex. It's about you and me, too. I want us. I want you to at least try." Though my thighs muffle his voice, they don't hide the desperation.
I shift uncomfortably, the heat of his breath causing unwanted reactions from my body. He eases his hold, but doesn't let me go.
"It is about Alex. I could've easily been one of the other women. If I hadn't been the one to give birth, you wouldn't even be here right now."
"If I had met you, just you, without any of this, I
I gasp, my mouth opening and closing three times before finding the right words.
" My son is never deprived of anything." My voice hardens.
"You're trying to deprive him of his father," he counters. "Besides, you're taking it the wrong way. I didn't say he's not taken care of."
"Well, I still don't want it, so you can shred those. I'm not signing them." I dismiss the papers with a wave.
"I'll get you to sign them eventually."
I open my mouth to argue further, but he continues.
"This one needs to be signed so we can take care of your last names."
"Our names?"
"Yes. You both will take my last name." He pushes a long, white paper toward me.
"Ha!" I shout, but quickly lower my voice. "Our names are just fine, thank you," I remark, pleased with how nonchalant I sound.
"You won't take my last name?" he asks, clearly frustrated.
I shake my head.
"And you'll deny our son his father and right to be a Knyght officially?"
I groan.
"He's growing up just fine as a Harlow. Alex and I will keep our last name."
The flare of his nostrils gives away his attempt to stay calm. Part of me hoped he would explode so I could kick him out.
"I understand the business need of your name. But, legally, your name should be changed to Knyght, both of your names."
"Not going to happen." I keep my nonchalant facade going.
Staring at each other, it becomes a contest of who will give in first.
"You're impossible." His voice raises an octave.
Ha, you blinked first, stalky! I win!
He stands and begins to pace.
"Well, you're ridiculous. Looks like we are match made in hell."
"Why? What is so ridiculous about these things?" He motions to the papers spread out on the table.
"What's ridiculous?!" I sit up to the edge of the chair. "Damon, we are a one night stand, drunk marriage in Vegas cliché. You want to change our lives for one night. We barely know each other and you want to hand over access to your money, your name, and everything. You don't want me. You want this new identity you're creating for Alex and me. Can't you see this won't work? You need to let go of your past and let this crazy idea of us go."
Before I can scramble out of the chair, he’s standing before me. Leaning forward, he braces his hands on either side of my slouched form.
"I will not let you go, either of you," he sneers. "So, get used to me being around, Mrs. Knyght."
Anger boils up from inside me, filling my limbs. I shove at his chest enough to make him sway, but not for him to release me from my chair prison.
"Move," I growl.
His right knee moves between my legs, pushing them apart.
"What are you—?"
I push at him as he drops to his knees between my parted thighs. His arms encircle my waist and his head falls into my lap.
"Please," he begs, a possessive desperation in his words.
"Please what?" I ask without moving, unsure of what he'll do next.
"Just let us be." His arms tighten around me.
My body starts to ache from the stiff posture I'm currently sitting in.
"If you are Alex's father," he tenses, "we can arrange visitations. You can be a part of his life. We don't have to be married for you to have rights to see him. That's if you are—"
"I am his father, Olivia." His voice is cold, exact. "And I don't just want visitations with him."
"Damon, please, I don't want—"
His arms tighten almost painfully.
"No, Olivia. This isn't just about Alex. It's about you and me, too. I want us. I want you to at least try." Though my thighs muffle his voice, they don't hide the desperation.
I shift uncomfortably, the heat of his breath causing unwanted reactions from my body. He eases his hold, but doesn't let me go.
"It is about Alex. I could've easily been one of the other women. If I hadn't been the one to give birth, you wouldn't even be here right now."
"If I had met you, just you, without any of this, I
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