Page 143 of My Ruthless Opponent

Chapter Twenty-Five

My stomach lurches. Victor is here. How long was he standing by our door? We were pretty loud.

Raleigh is cradling me in his arms. The image he is seeing right now is sweet but we are screwed if he heard our conversation.

We are getting married on this resort to promote it. If that wasn’t suspicious enough, we fought in front of the door for anyone to hear. This suite isn’t soundproof.

I try to gauge his expression and try to search for any signs of anger. Because Victor will be livid if he finds out we are cheating him.

We are not only lying to him, but to the entire world.

His reputation would be tarnished by journalists and reporters.

They’ll be pleased to land a breaking news. They won’t consider his years of good reputation. They would ruin his name and brand by claiming that he is marketing his resort through two con artists. Because that’s what we’ll be dubbed as, won’t we?

That will ruin my life once again. And Raleigh’s too. I cannot let that happen.

I lick my dry lips and try to find words to speak. Victor beats me to it.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

My face heats up when Victor’s eyes take us in, an amused smile playing on his lips.

He’s in dark jeans, a light blue button-up shirt, and a sports jacket. His salt and pepper hair is neatly made, and he’s clean-shaven. And he doesn’t appear to be angry.

Victor is carrying flowers in one hand a small hamper containing chocolates in the other. And there’s that familiar stab of guilt.

I clear my throat. “N-no. It’s so nice to see you, Victor.”

“Apologies for interrupting. I came to see you as soon as I heard about your accident.”

“Please don’t say that. You’re not interrupting.” I paste a smile on my face before turning my head. “Put me down!” I hiss in Raleigh’s ear.

“Not happening, princess.” He meets my defiant gaze. Then he finally acknowledges Victor. “Please come in.”

He turns with me and walks toward the couch and gently puts me down.

He behaves like a perfect host and sits Victor across me on a lounge chair. He offers him a drink to which Victor politely declines.

Raleigh then takes a seat beside me.

“These are for you.” Victor rests the flowers and the basket on the table in front of me.

“Thank you so much. We were on our way to join you for lunch.”

“You need to rest, Hannah,” Raleigh speaks, cutting in.

My eyes bulge from their sockets.

He did not just say that in front of Victor. It is insulting.

We’ve bent over backward in the past to make sure our clients are happy.

Declining lunch can offend Victor. He is our biggest and most important client. It was plain rude to say that.

I am still unsure if he heard us arguing. And Raleigh is complicating things further.

“Raleigh’s right. Health is wealth. And we are all friends here. We can have lunch some other time. Right now, you focus on getting better, okay?” Leaning back in his chair, he smiles at me.

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