“What changes?”
“Standards.”
“Such as?”
Vivienne set down her glass.
“Ronan, I am going to be your wife. I cannot run a household where people question every instruction.”
“You haven’t been running the household.”
“I’ve been preparing to.”
“By threatening their jobs?”
She looked away.
“People need to understand who’s in charge.”
Ronan studied her.
He remembered the first time they met, at a charity dinner two years earlier.
Vivienne had been charming, clever, and attentive.
She knew how to speak to investors without appearing intimidated.
She knew the names of their spouses and children.
She made difficult social occasions look effortless.
When he’d proposed, he’d believed he was marrying someone capable of standing beside him without being overwhelmed by the attention surrounding his name.
He hadn’t asked enough questions about how she treated people who couldn’t benefit her.
“I don’t want to marry you,” he said.
Vivienne stopped moving.
“What?”
“The engagement is over.”
For several seconds, she stared at him.
Then she laughed.
“You’re upset. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Ronan, don’t be absurd. Our wedding is in four months.”
“Then we’ll cancel it.”
Her smile disappeared.
“My parents have already paid deposits.”
