AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, I guess it’s show time then?” She asks, looking up at me under fluttering eyelashes. “Our first official appearance.”
She really does look nervous, her fingers trembling as she holds up the little clutch bag we picked out at Hermès.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” I say, wrapping my arm around her as I pull her into a comforting hug. She’s weirdly stiff in my arms.
Chapter 29
Kat
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and produces a little jewelry box. “You should wear this.”
I haven’t seen the ring since I pulled it off of my finger at the store when we bought it. Now that he holds it up before me, I’m choked by a troubling knot inside my throat. I keep my lips firmly pressed together as I try to act as normal as possible.
Everything has changed, but he can’t know that.
I didn’t want to eavesdrop. I wasn’t trying to snoop around behind his back or anything like that. But when I was ready to leave and went looking for him, I found myself meandering down his hallway, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his office door standing ajar. And one thing led to another: I heard his voice, I stopped moving, and I listened. I listened to hear things that were not meant for my ears—and they hit me like a punch to the chest.
I should have known better. I guess Ididknow better, now that I think about it. I warned myself when I saw him for the first time. Even under his tailored suits, fancy car and lavish penthouse home, his bad boy vibe was still unambiguously present. I took notice—and then ignored my own advice. I fell for his act and closed my eyes before the truth I didn’t want to see.
He’s still waiting for my hand, his brows lifted as he holds up the ring to put it on my finger. We’re sitting in the car, on our way to my first real assignment as his fake fiancée, and I’m trying my best to hold it together when all I want to do is scream at him and run as far away as possible.
He’s a drug dealer.Of course, he is. That’s where all his money came from, or rather, how his family got their money. He’s part of a crime family, and now he’s trying to greenwash his name and his wealth by faking to be someone he is not.
And I’m helping him do that. I am his accomplice.
That’s why he needs me. He wants to become part of something else, because it will help clear his filthy image in some way. And apparently, he needs a fiancéefor that, someone who makes him look good, legit and like a man who can be trusted—when the opposite is true.
How could I be so stupid? I was trying to get away from all of this, and instead of doing better for myself after that Patrick-failure I ran straight back into the mud. Logan is taking advantage of my desperation just like Clayton did before him. My poverty makes me an easy target for men like him, and I fell for his trap despite my experience in this area. I made it easy for him, too easy.
I try to contain myself, trying to calm myself with a deep inhale, so my hand won’t shake too much when I hold it out for him. My heart almost bursts with despair when he slides the ring on my finger, moving in gentle and caring motions, as if this meant anything to him.
But of course, it doesn’t. I don’t mean anything to him.
I knew that from the start, and I tried to remind myself of that, even after all the wonderful things he did for me. The flirting, the amazing sex, the wonderful library and that book he wanted my opinion on—none of it means anything. I’m just a tool for him, a criminal who is trying to leave his past behind and secure his place in a world that is not his. Not yet.
He clears his throat when he lets go of my hand, throwing me a quick look before he averts his attention to look out the window. It’s almost as if this was weird for him, too. As if he felt the same bitter sting at a gesture that holds so much meaning for others, but is just a means to an end in our case.
“Still nervous?”he asks, without looking at me.
“A little,” I reply.
I can barely get the words out without gagging on my anger. I need to get out of this, before it’s too late and I find myself wrapped up in some seriously dangerous mess. From the sounds of it, he already has a father in prison and is worried about landing there himself. Where does that leave me? What if things go downhill and I get accused for his wrongdoings? How could I end up in a mess like this again?
“Just remember what we practiced and you’ll be fine,” he promises.
He puts his hand on my thigh, adding a soothing squeeze in an attempt to calm me down. And without the newly acquired knowledge I’m now burdened with, it would have worked. But now I have to pull myself togethersoas not to yank his unwanted touch away.
I reciprocate his smile and suggest a nod, trying to feign attention while he recites our notes for tonight, the names of the people we will talk to and who among them is especially important, my personal fake background story and the way we met.
I nod along as he speaks, but I’m miles away, turning over my options in my mind. The contract is signed and I’m bound to my confidentiality clause, but it’s not like I’m trapped with him. I can still break our contract and leave, but it would leave me without any money—money that I need now more than ever. How am I supposed to help Mrs. Warden if I back out of this? I would only be left with the down payment, which I intended to pay off my debtsoonerratherthan later. That debt has been hanging over my head for far too long and it’s blocking me from going forward.
But not paying it off now wouldn’t kill me. Yes, my plans would be put on hold again, and I would have to go back to working at The Velvet Rooms, but at least I could help Mrs. Warden. I’m sure I could find a way to do it without her realizing where the money is coming from. I could still lie.
But I would also losehim, just as I was about to fall in love with him. My heart aches at the thought, and there’s a part of me who refuses to believe the truth behind that phone call. I look at him now, looking as neat as a pin in his black suit and iceblue tie—a color he picked to go with my dress. His hair is gelled to the side, his undercut freshly shavedashis strong jawline, and he smells of citrus and a fresh sea breeze, his scent just as irresistible as his looks.
He pins me in place with his dark eyes, all focused and stern looking as he goes through our notes, seemingly just as nervous as I pretend to be—and I can’t help but wish that everything I heard on the phone was all just a big misunderstanding.
