Page 17 of Three Corporate Kings and a Hands-Off Bride

God. She couldn’t put into words how amazing they’d been. They fucked her, they made love to her, they made her orgasm in her sleep, they bathed her, and then they repeated the process all over again. The whole night long.

They made her body do things she would have never dreamed even remotely possible. Unconsciously, she held her hand to her stomach. They’d warned her they weren’t going to use any protection. They didn’t care if they put a baby inside her, but the first time they took her, they wanted her naked in every sense of the word. Wild horses couldn’t have stopped her from giving them what they wanted.

Was their baby already growing inside her? A warm sweet haze settled around her at the thought. Wait. She needed to get a grip on reality. These thoughts were dangerous to have.

But there was something that was bothering her.

Something didn’t feel right.

In the kitchen, she brewed fresh coffee and was surprised to find that it was so late in the morning already. She quickly checked her emails on her phone, the nagging feeling growing more intense.

She had to make a decision about law school. Her indecision was eating at her now.

She was startled when her phone buzzed with an unknown number.

"Umm... is this, Alicia Robertsons?” A voice said on the other side.

“Yes. Who am I speaking to?”

“Oh, thank goodness. My name is Cara; you probably don’t remember me, but you might remember my mom. You gave her two hundred dollars to have your fortune read? She has silver hair and wears blue-shadow. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to return your money. I had to beg the person who worked at the warehouse for your number. Her name is Amy. Is there a way I can get this money back to you?”

“But why?” Alicia asked, her voice small.

“This is so embarrassing. My mom is not a fortune teller. I don’t know why she said that. It’s the first time she’s ever done something like that. And I have no idea why she made you give her two hundred dollars. Can we meet somewhere so I can give the money back to you?”

“Umm… no. It’s fine. Please keep the money or donate to someone who needs it. Thank you, Cara, for calling me.”

Alicia sat in stunned silence.

Okay. She just needed to draw up a step-by-step list of instructions to follow. Actually, there was only one thing on that list. She had to tell them the truth.

A clearly crazy lady decided to play fortune teller and told her a big fat lie. And being Alicia, she just ran with it because it worked out so perfectly.

Okay, no time like the present. She tried to walk with purpose, but her steps slowed with dread.

Did she want to be their wife so badly? No, of course not. They were still pains in her ass. And she theirs. She lost her head, they all got caught up in the moment, she lost her virginity, both of her virginities, and now it was time to sober up and face reality.

Right.

She stepped into the bedroom. They had just woken up.

“I have something to tell you. So, you don’t have to marry me after all." As was customary when it came to them, she didn’t let them get a word in edgewise, more so because she would lose her nerve.

“So apparently, the fortune teller who said I would be marrying a king, who I surmised was you three because you know King Industries—that was an honest mistake actually on my part. But the fortune-telling lady is not a fortune teller. Her daughter just called me to give me back the money I paid her to have my fortune told. So…” She had to stop using the word 'so.'

“So…” Darn it. “Good news. You’re off the hook. You don’t have to marry me. So good morning. Have a great day at work today.”

She didn’t get very far before she was dragged back into the room and them blocking the door.

“That’s not how it works, pretty girl.”

“But I thought you would be relieved. Hooray. You don’t have to marry me. Also, I asked you twice, and you turned me down twice, so I just won’t be asking you anymore to marry me. There. We’re all... sorted. But her false bravado broke. All her emotions came to a speeding crash in her head.

“I’m sorry. I’m such a mess. I don’t know what I was doing these last few weeks. I tried to distract myself, and I just went down this whole weird rabbit hole of manifesting things I have no right to have and don’t deserve.

“I miss my mom, and there was a letter she wrote me that I would get on my wedding day, and I just wanted to read it so badly, and I... clearly don’t have my shit together. I’m just a hot, sad mess. And I’m not feeling sorry for myself. It’s the truth. I’m so sorry for dragging you all into my drama. Please, can we just forget everything?”

She didn’t expect to go from falsely chirpy; I made a big mistake, but it’s all good now to arg why am I like this so incredibly quickly.

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