Page 44 of My Ruthless Opponent

Raleigh is smart enough to stay silent but he cocks his eyebrow when I interlace our fingers.

“Let’s go for a walk, shall we?” I grind out as I turn on my heels.

I walk briskly toward one of the hallways. Past the walls with expensive paintings, searching for a room to have a conversation with myfiancé.

Raleigh lets me drag him into the darkened hallway.

I saidletbecause that man is a house of hard muscles and unforgiving strength. The only reason I feel he is letting me whisk him away is that he is guilty.

Guilty or not, he is in for the biggest rant tonight. Or a kick in the shin. Or both.

I have so many questions. And Raleigh will have to answer them all before either of us leaves here tonight.

I should’ve stopped him the moment he barged in with his signature arrogant swagger like that.

I was caught off guard and he took advantage of my stunned reaction.

Now he expects me to marry him for the sake of the contract? How can he be so ruthless?

A wedding is a union of two souls. Pretending to be engaged is also wrong. But I could do it for this job. I felt a compulsion to act my part in front of Victor. But this is big. I can’t do this.

I may be a career-oriented woman but I want my wedding day to be special. Not fake. I don’t plan to marry anyone unless I am settled and established.

Once the problems in my life are handled, I would think of committing to someone.

Raleigh had no right to say things like that.

I spot a door at the end of the hallway and my legs pick up the pace. I wobble when my heel gets caught in a rug.

Snap!

My heel is broken. The cheap thing I bought not two weeks ago gave up on me. If not for Raleigh, I would’ve fallen flat on my face.

I release his hand and bend down to check the damage.

This is fucking embarrassing. Why is Raleigh always present whenever my heels break?

“Don’t hold back on my account. Please laugh to your heart’s content.” I meant it to be snippy but my voice is small.

His taunts and mock laughter echo in my ears from a year ago.

That was the first and last time Raleigh found me in a vulnerable state. While I may not be feeling low like I had back then, it still reminds me of that awful day.

I expected one of his smart-ass replies or a taunt about being melodramatic yet again.

He does neither of those things and sweeps me off the floor and into his arms.

I am ashamed because I let out a squeak. “What are you doing?”

“You wanna talk, princess? Let’s get to that without wasting any more time.” And here I thought this bastard is being nice for once.

How can I forget? The term ‘nice’ and several others resembling it ceases to exist for him when it comes to me.

“I can walk, RJ,” I grumble.

“Maybe I am in the mood of carrying my fiancé in my arms.”

That does it. I start to struggle.

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