Morally Grey (Grey Morals #1)

2

Kian

We're late. I hate being late.

I drive on the borderline of the speed limit, knowing my mum is there already and they're waiting for us to arrive.

I agreed to this meeting because I need a wife. With Dad thinking of retiring soon, I need the board to think I'm a viable candidate. Having a wife and a stable home is one way for them to trust me as his successor and I have to be voted in through the official channels to be able to take over from him when the time comes.

They told me her name was Isabella Carlisle. Age 23 and working full time, she isn't like the girls who usually try to get with me. Naturally, I did a background check on her. No felons, no crazy social media presence or gold digger vibes- she's just, well, normal.

I'm not looking for love. I have a plan and a timeline to execute it. If this girl isn't on board then I'll find someone else. Who it is doesn't particularly matter to me as long as they agree to my terms and don't attract too much attention. I'm not here for any high maintenance girls with an empty wallet  and looking for a guy to sweep them of their feet. I need discretion. Someone desperate enough to agree to the plan but smart enough not to think it can turn into anything more. A business transaction. That's what this is. Only difference is that this one lasts for life.

We arrive a few minutes later and my dad gives me a look of warning before we go in. I know what that look means: don't be a dick and don't be too blunt.

He knows my intention with this meeting but he doesn't know the extent I'm willing to go to get what I want. I've made is pretty clear to him that my main motivation for finding a partner is because of the business but he doesn't know that I don't intend to actually fall for the girl I marry. It suits me better if he doesn't know. I don't need my parents weighing in on my love life or lack of it.

We enter the living room and I make a point not to look at her. Instead, I look at her mum, trying to see if there's an angle they're pushing for to get us together. Her mum is petite and quite honestly doesn't look old enough to have a daughter in her twenties. She smiles at me and I'm surprised that I don't detect a hint of malice or ulterior motive, like with most people I meet. I've become accustomed to notice jealousy and negative emotions masked through false smiles but Isabella's mum doesn't fit into this category at all. Interesting.

My aunt nudges Isabella forward, officially introducing us to each other. It's only then that I look at her.

I start at the top and make my way down. Her face is almost free from make up, aside from some girly shit on her cheeks and her lips stained in a colour that feels like it was deliberately made for guys to zero in on. High cheekbones and dark mahogany hair with lighter bits at the end. I hate that I want to reach out and see if it's as soft as it looks.

Taller than I'd expected but still a good few inches shorter than my 6ft 2". Slim waist flaring slightly at the hips and a slender body. There's more to her than just bones and I like it.

For as much detail as I take, the entirety of my look lasts only a few seconds before I force myself to look away.

"I thought you said she was petite," are the only words I speak and I direct them at my aunt.

I can see my dad glare at me from the corner of my eye as my aunt laughs awkwardly in response.

I don't say anything after that, choosing to sit quietly as our families fill the silence. Like I said, I'm not here to fall in love- I need someone who's willing to go along with my plan.

Finally, after what seems like an hour, her aunt suggests we talk alone. Me and Isabella. Time to make my move.