Page 115 of Playboy Billionaire's Fake Marriage

“Let him have it. I’ll deal with him when the time comes. The only thing I care about right now is Stella.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Xavier murmurs. “Fuck me.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. I just never thought the day would come when I’d hear you say that.”

“It’s true.”

“Okay, but just don’t give in to the bastard yet. I’ll do everything I can to find Stella and get rid of whatever leverage he thinks he has. If I don’t locate her in any of my hotels, I’ll hit Ethan or Alex up.”

“Alex knows already, but I appreciate it, man.”

I hang up and call Don. Looks like he was right. This ship will be sailing without its captain.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Stella

I sit on my plush bed in the Vista Astoria Hotel suite, hugging my knees and staring unseeingly at the East River through the floor-length windows out. But my focus is inward, on my swirling storm of emotions.

I chose a hotel outside of Manhattan, somewhere unlikely to be owned by Xavier, but I’ve ended up in a room with a view that reminds me of Ryan, though everything reminds me of him, so there’s that.

It’s been five days since I walked away from our home in Seattle. Twelve days since I last saw Ryan. And two agonizing days since that envelope arrived. The one currently sitting on the hallway table. The one containing the DNA report I can’t open because I already know what it will say.

My phone vibrates with an incoming text. It’s Brooke.

Bonnie told me everything. Don’t be mad, she did the right thing. This business of secrets stops right fucking now. For everyone. I made Xavier tell me where you’ve been holing up. Queens? Really? Get out of bed and get dressed. I’m coming to you.

Brooke dropping the F-bomb? She’s pretty fucking pissed then. Well, I couldn’t fucking care. I stopped giving two fucks about anything five days ago.

She’s right about one thing, though. I’ve barely left this bed, surviving on crackers and water and self-torture in the form of hot showers. Not because of the heat but because they remind me of how we shared those showers when he needed relief from his headaches.

As for Bonnie, I stopped taking her calls because there’s a limit to how selfish I can allow myself to be. She’s just had a baby, yet she’s made it their business to call me twice a day since I started hibernating here.

Like a glutton for punishment, I scroll over to Bonnie’s text from three days ago again. It’s linked to a video with the tag #playboyryanfairchild.

I’ve watched it over a hundred times, still the headline hits me like a ton of bricks:

“Ryan Fairchild, CEO of Ocean Gate Industries, throws in the towel.”

Of course, I play the video again.

Ryan Fairchild, CEO Ocean Gate Industries has just stepped down for his long-term rival and cousin Don Fairchild. There are speculations as to why, but multiple sources point to Don being the true winner of the seat six months ago, but he was outmaneuvered by the outgoing CEO and his wife.

As karma would have it, the couple who married recently is rumored to have split up amid accusations of cheating with an ex during the ship magnate’s recent London trip. His estranged wife, a high-profile celebrity stylist has now moved back to New York with her model ex-boyfriend. Score. Y’all know we love a woman who can give a good tit for tat...

The video drones on, but I’m stuck on pause, my mind racing. Social media is a cesspool of bullshit, but when more reputable sites are echoing the same story, I know there’s no smoke without fire. Yet, the Ryan I know wouldn’t step down for anyone, least of all Don. Ocean Gate is the one thing Ryan has always wanted.

A knock on my hotel room door snaps me out of my downward spiral. “That was quick,” I mutter, expecting Brooke. I pull myself out of bed, smoothing out my ratty T-shirt, and open the door to find Xavier.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, surprised when I don’t see Brooke in tow.

“Stella, we need to talk,” he steps past the threshold with a look that is both concerned and annoyed.

I close the door and face him, my arms crossed. “Xavier, really, I’ve got my wits about me. Yes, Ryan told me you were worried I’d end up a basket case after being with him.

“Yeah, about that,” he starts, his gaze searching mine. “It appears I was wrong. It’s Ryan who seems to be unraveling.”

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