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The door swings open again, startling us. Two men in black suits walk through the door. They are not security guards.
“Are you Kinsley Felton?” the man says.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Killian wraps his arms around me tighter.
The man walks toward us. He grabs ahold of my arm. “Kinsley Felton, you are under arrest.”
I expect him to say, for having sex in a spare hospital bed. But that doesn’t make sense.
He finishes his sentence, “For money laundering and fraud.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed. I have no idea what he is talking about.
Killian is still holding on to my waist, refusing to let me go.
“I’m going to have to ask you to let her go.”
Killian does, and the man puts the cuffs on me. He begins walking me out of the room. I hear Killian running next to us.
“Excellent job, Agent Byrne,” the man who has me in cuffs says.
I turn to my right to face the direction where the man is talking, but I have no idea who he is talking to. All I see is Killian. Killian Browne.
His eyes grow heavy, sad, as he looks from me and then to the man who has me in cuffs. “Thank you, Agent Phillips,” he says weakly.
My mouth drops. Killian isn’t Killian. He’s not a CEO. He’s a cop or with the FBI or CIA or whatever the hell agents work with.
I force myself to keep my eyes off of Killian or whatever the hell his name is as the man leads me out of the hospital and into the back of a blacked-out Suburban.
I was wrong. I’m always wrong. Killian doesn’t love me. He doesn’t care about being a CEO. He was just doing his job.
I try to push him out of my head. I try to focus on whatever I’m facing as the car speeds off, leaving the hospital behind. I can’t help it though. I glance back at him. He’s standing on the street, staring at me with an intense stare on his face.
I hate him, I think.
But I don’t. The lingering love is still there. I still feel his warm cum pooling between my thighs. I still feel his love even if it didn’t exist.
I turn away from him.
Any normal woman would be afraid. Being arrested is most people’s worst nightmare. It should be mine, except this isn’t the first time I’ve made a mistake. It feels just like the last time. The pain from being betrayed by a man I thought loved me is the same.
The only difference is, last time I knew what the mistake was. But, this time, I have no clue.
