Page 3 of The Fake Date Deal

“Something’s wrong,” I said again. I cocked my head, listening. “The garden’s too quiet.”

“Now that you mention it?—”

“Excuse me, Miss Hansley?”

I whirled, startled. I hadn’t heard the maid come in.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. This came for you.” She held out an envelope on a gold tray. I snatched it up, barely pausing to thank her. That seal, that crest — from Rafael?

Emma craned for a look. “What is that, a note?”

I turned my back on her, shielding the note with my body.

“Is that his crest?”

I tore the envelope open, then stopped, breathing hard. The air was hot, close, but I felt cold inside. A shiver ran through me, a chill down my spine. A note from my fiancé on the day of my wedding, mere minutes before it? What could he have to say that couldn’t wait?

I closed my eyes. My hands had gone numb. Did everyone else know what was in this note? They did, I was sure, and they hadn’t told me. Whatever blow had been struck here, I’d be last to find out. Anger swept through me, so hot my face burned, then a sour wave of humiliation. I drew in a long breath and counted to five. When I let it out, I was calm. I was ready. I unfolded the note, and?—

“I don’t believe it. That bastard!”

I spun away, but Emma was raging. She’d seen it; she knew. Everyone knew. Everyone in the garden, my parents. The press? All of Monaco, social media, the world. Everyone everywhere knew I’d been jilted.

“I’ll find Gabriella,” said Emma, and brushed by my shoulder. I stood gaping blankly at Rafael’s note.

I’m sorry, he’d written. I thought I could do this. But I had a dream last night that felt almost real. I was in my car, racing in the Grand Prix. Racing that last lap, leading the pack. I was flying so fast the track was a blur, and if I could only describe to you the way that felt — the thrill, the adrenaline, the absolute freedom — you’d understand I can’t give that up. If you had a passion like I do, I’d want you to live it. I’d want you to chase it without compromise. Please understand, I never set out to hurt you, Eve. But I’m not done with my own dream. I’m not ready to settle.

I hope this letter reaches you before you find out from?—

“Eve!” Gabriella burst in, all pink and flustered. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but Rafael?—”

“I know,” I said. My voice sounded foreign, all toneless and flat. I crumpled Rafael’s note and let it drop to the floor.

“You don’t understand.” Emma pushed in behind her. “He’s literally racing. Like right now, this minute. It’s all over socials.”

I squeezed out between them, into the hall. Gabriella trailed after me.

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t know, but I was picking up speed, first trotting, then jogging, then sprinting away. I skidded in my heels and paused to step out of them, then I hiked my dress up and ran even faster. Gabriella raced after me, puffing in the heat.

“Wait, Eve?—”

“Don’t follow me!” I ran with no plan and no destination in mind. All I knew was I had to get out. I tore through the cloisters and the wide, grassy terrace, through the sunny conservatory with its exotic plants. A twig caught my sleeve and tore the fine lace, but I kept running. I couldn’t stop. I flew through the house like a ghost all in white, faster and faster, rooms blurring by.

“Eve!”

Gabriella’s cry barely reached me, I’d left her so far behind. I burst out the front doors panicked, unthinking, into the glare of the late morning sun. Into the dazzle of hundreds of flashbulbs, the press on the steps and crowding the dooryard. I screamed, spun around, but the doors slammed behind me.

“Eve! Are you going to confront Rafael?”

“Did you know he was leaving?”

“Why did you split?”

I shoved through them, past them, rough in my panic. But five steps from the house, my train jerked taut. It caught with such violence I staggered, then tripped. I dropped to my knees on the hard marble steps, and a sharp cry escaped me. Pain lanced through my legs. My head spun, my chest hitched, and I crouched, stunned.

“Eve!”

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