Page 82 of Battle with a Billionaire

With determination filling her, she rose and crossed to it. She found a large workspace. Shredded papers filled one table. She picked a few pieces up and studied them before she grabbed two taped-together forms. They listed partners in a limited liability corporation. Had she pieced this together?

She eased into the supple leather office chair and twisted toward the computer. As she shimmied the mouse to wake it, she caught sight of the wedding photo next to it.

It was a window to a life she couldn’t recall. Her own smiling face, so full of joy and love, was like looking at a stranger. The dissonance between her blank memories and the vivid happiness in the photo sent a pang of loss through her heart.

Was she an accomplished actress? She looked happy. Why? It had all been a sham.

She flicked her gaze to the glowing screen instead, pulling up an internet browser and typing in a simple search for her husband.

Results populated the screen. She clicked on a few news articles from the past few months.

The first detailed his campaign for Senate. A series of scandals rocked it, including the latest which suggested an affair that he vehemently denied.

She clicked the video and watched herself stand by his side as he read a statement saying the photos had been doctored. A reporter asked her a question, and she defended him. She supposed that had been scripted, though she’d done a convincing job.

Another recent story announced Julia Harrington as interim CEO of Harrington Global while Grant pursued a Senate seat. She studied herself as she smiled at the camera. Had she really fulfilled that role?

She dug further back into the articles. Her heart thudded as she clicked on one that said Explosion at Harrington Wind Farm Wounds CEO. She perused the scant article detailing an explosion that had trapped Grant for hours and required emergency surgery to save his life.

The next article described a public brawl between Grant and Kyle over a woman who she assumed to be her, recognizing her image in the grainy cell phone video that captured it.

Another news story discussed a foiled kidnapping. Julia’s mind whirled as she realized she’d been involved. She perused one about Grant’s being arrested for murder, followed by one entitled Billionaire Bride Backs Him Up; Spins New Narrative. A photo of them, hands clasped, topped it.

She ended her trip through the past year with a photo of her and Grant at a restaurant, captured mid-laugh. The article suggested the city’s most eligible bachelor was off the market, having fallen for an unknown beauty.

She clicked back to the search page, as she tried to make sense of the missing chunks of her life. A deluge of emotions built in her, ranging from confusion to upset and ending with panic. How had this been her life? How did she not remember it?

And most importantly: what was she going to do about it?

She gulped down the bile rising in her throat as she tried to recall any of this but found her memory a black hole. Her hands shook, and her knees wobbled as she rose. She needed to get away. She didn’t know where, but her panic pushed her to spill into the hallway. She stumbled forward as confusion and trepidation drove her frenzied steps.

As she rounded a corner, she plowed into a figure. Bouncing back a step, she raised her wide eyes, spotting Kyle.

His features registered concern as he reached for her. “Julia? You okay?”

She stood stunned for a moment before her features pinched, and she shook her head.

“Okay, come on,” he said as he slid an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Somewhere quiet where you can think.”

She allowed him to lead her through the halls and down the stairs to the front door. By the time they reached the foyer, her heart raced. Kyle’s grip, firm, but gentle, guided her across the cold marble floor. A storm of emotions raged within her.

Before they reached the door, Grant strode toward them. “Julia? Are you okay?”

“No, she is not,” Kyle said.

Grant’s forehead creased as he shifted his gaze between them. “Okay, why don’t you try to rest–”

“No, she’s not going to go rest. I’m taking her out of here so she can think.”

Grant fluttered his eyelashes at the words before he scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Stand aside, Dad.”

Grant skirted him and stood in front of the door. “I will not. You’re not leaving here with Julia.”

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