Page 40 of The Unwanted Wife

"On the contrary." I take a step forward; she moves back. "It’s all my business. You are my business. In fact,"—I look her up and down—"your business is my business."

She looks at me suspiciously. "Wh-what's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you checked your bank account lately?"

She shakes her head.

"The money you need to pay off your debts has been deposited."

Her jaw drops. "So soon? But I just signed the paperwork an hour ago."

My lawyers informed me they’d received her e-signature, and I ordered my banker to deposit the money in her account.

"I fulfilled my part of the bargain." I take a step forward, and she stiffens. "You have no choice but to go through with your end now."

She firms her lips. "So, this is you making sure I can’t back out?"

"Do you want to back out?"

Before she can reply, the door to the ensuite bathroom opens, and a man steps into the room. He spots me, and his features harden. "You’re in the wrong room, buddy."

"No, you’re in a hotel room with my fiancée, buddy; that’s what’s wrong."

His gaze widens. He turns to her. "You’re engaged?"

"Hey, don't talk to her; talk to me." I plant myself between them, cutting her off from his line of sight.

He has no choice but to address me. "I didn’t know." He raises his hands.

"Now, you do."

"But she’s here, so maybe she doesn’t want to be—" he argues.

"Don’t fucking say it." I take a step in his direction, and he shuffles back.

"Whoa, whoa, I didn’t come here to be caught in any marital discord." He continues to sidle in the direction of the door, which is the only reason I don’t grab him and shove him out. "But I have to point out, if she’s here, despite being engaged to you, then it stands to reason, you’re not satisfying?—"

I stalk toward him. He turns and races out the door. I slam it shut, lock it for good measure, then turn and place my shoulders against it. "Answer the question."

"Wh-which one?"

"Do you want to back out of the deal?"

She hesitates.

My heart slams into my ribcage. I cannot… Will not let her back out. "Why don’t you check the money in your bank account? That might help you."

She looks like she’s about to refuse, then nods. She heads toward where she’s placed her handbag on the nightstand on the right side of the bed. That’s the side she prefers to sleep on.

So, she came here with the intention of staying the night. I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. My fiancée came to this hotel room with the intention of sleeping with another man days before our wedding. My shoulders bunch, and the blood roars at my temples. This is my fault. I walked out on her after telling her what happened between us was a mistake. I made her come but I didn’t fuck her. I didn’t satisfy my woman. And she decided to turn to another man. I watch as she reaches the nightstand, pulls her phone from her handbag, and swipes her fingers across the screen.

Her eyes widen, and she turns on me. “That’s much more than the figure stated in the contract.”

“It’s three times the sum,” I snap.

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“To make sure you never need money again. You can invest it in your business. Or use it for anything else you want.”

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