Page 7 of Bona Fide

I only fucked her hours before she found out I had a so-called wife. One I’ve been separated from for years, but couldn’t rid myself of until my ass sat in the Oval Office.

And it’s happening all over again.

Demi will make it her mission to fuck my whole life up because she is a petty, resentful bitch. I just never expected someone like Reagan to stride into my life to where I would be putting my existence and someone else’s world in danger.

“You’re not a complete idiot,” she professes. “You know why I wouldn’t want to be near you. Professionally and personally.”

“I know how this looks,” I reply calmly. “It doesn’t look good.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “I want out.”

“So, you have the money to buy yourself out of the contract?” Her forehead creases, forming lines that I wish Demi had permanently. That woman shouldn’t be allowed to look like she does—beautiful, perilous, and a body that men would kill to fuck.

“You can’t honestly be serious about making me still work for you after what you did.”

“I can...and I will, Miss Shelton.” Her hands form into fists at her sides.

Hit me, baby, it’ll make us both feel better.

“And I can, and will leak a statement about our prior relationship to the public if you don’t let me go.”

The corners of my lips quirk like the asshole I am. “Then, you must be a good money pincher because that NDA you signed for me will cost you more than your ass.”

“Wade,” she grounds out. “I don’t want to work for you anymore. I don’t want to plan your events. I don’t want to be in your office. I don’t want to see your fucking face ever again in my lifetime. Do you understand that?”

“Then, work outside of the office.”

A mirthless laugh escapes her lips as she gives a slight shake to her head. “You’re unbelievable, but you already know that, don’t you?”

The defeat in her tone sets the hairs on my arms on end. I could be a decent human being and let her go, but I can’t.

More like I won’t.

Not when she holds too much for me and we’re too deep into this.

I’m too deep into this.

She’s that “first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think of at night” thing for me. I’m not ready to give up.

“Reagan,” I profess. “Let me explain everything. I promise you that—”

“Don’t promise me anything,” she snaps through a potent glare. I hate being under her animosity, but I thirst in this second just to be in her sights. “You don’t get to do that with me.”

Rising from my chair, I watch her body start to tremble slightly. Hands still balled into fists, I’d let her hit me again if it meant that she’d feel some sort of relief. Anything to make her not feel as shitty as I do right now.

She deserves better than me. I’m the worst thing that could’ve possibly walked into her life.

But I still crave her.

I still fucking want her.

Cautiously, I round my desk, afraid she’s going to make a run for the door like a scared little animal, but she remains docked to her spot. My fingers beg to touch her. To just feel her for a second because we miss her, and she wants to leave us for good.

“I never wanted you to find out this way,” I tell her. “I honestly never thought we’d end up where we were. But the way you pulled me into your—”

“So, this is my fault?”

I shake my head. “No, no, it’s mine. All mine, I’m not blaming you for a thing. You did nothing wrong.” I take another step forward, where she’s within arm’s reach from me, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep from making contact with her. “I’m so fucking sorry, Reagan, you have no idea how much. I never wanted to hurt you. I would never want to cause you any pain.”

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