Charles Walter Owens sat at the breakfast table.  The wrought iron chair was beginning to become uncomfortable and the company of his parents was getting even more uncomfortable.  His only thought was to get through the charade of a marriage, move into the upper office and work his father out. 

Rose was the perfect coup; the old man and old lady were duped into making such a simple choice for him.  Manipulation was the key.  If they only knew he had set the meeting up, built the relationships between them, and even played her parents into agreeing.

She was of high enough breed to be an acceptable choice and, in his opinion, low enough breed to be manipulated by the glitz and glamour that came wrapped up with the powerful family. Charles had chosen her carefully.  The list of names Evans, the private dick, had given him was a compilation of women in that caste of society just suited for this power play.  Shame he only met her the once, she was pretty enough to be sure.  Well it wouldn’t matter really who she was, after the ceremony, a short trip to some dangerous location and he could be free again, accidents happen.  All that mattered was the trust would be open after a simple “I do.”