Page 65 of Forever Fake

“You seem to like watching these, so I thought you might enjoy the live experience.” Blake motions me to a seat. In front of us, the stage is set up like a kitchen. A backdrop displays the show's title and I excitedly bounce in my seat. This is one of my favorite cooking competition shows! We have front row seats to watch chefs make their creations.

I lean over and kiss him. The joy rushing through me feels like it’s going to make me burst any moment, I can hardly contain it all.

For an hour, I watch the chefs at work while Blake stares at me. Every time I glance at him, he simply smiles.Smiles. Like he’s happy. How crazy is that? Honestly, I could get used to this indulgent, generous, relaxed side of my fiancé.

After the show, we get to go backstage and meet the chefs. They humor me as I barrage them with questions, being kind enough to give me insider tips and tricks. I can’t wait to chat with Kyla about everything I learned today. I’m sure she already knows most of these things, but she’s someone I can talk to about cooking and her eyes don’t glaze over when I get excited about the science involved.

“Oh my god, that was amazing,” I tell Blake as we head back to my car. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

He smirks. “It’s not over yet.”

“Really? What’s next?”

“Well, unfortunately, I’m not allowed to keep you all to myself today.” He slides into the passenger seat. I can hardly believe he’s letting me drive again. He’s always so in control of everything, but right now he’s letting me be in charge, placing his trust in me. “Your sisters wouldn’t allow it, they insisted on seeing you today. Arianna even threatened me with bodily harm if they didn’t see you on your birthday. Do you know she has such a vicious streak?”

I laugh. “Yeah, don’t let her prim and proper mannerisms fool you. She is married to a Bratvapakhan, after all.”

“True. Anyway, we are expected at the De Luca estate this evening. Sophia insisted on hosting your birthday dinner. It’s about an hour and a half drive from here and we’re staying the night. Before you ask, our overnight bags are in the trunk. So let’s see what your little magpie car can do on the highway, shall we?”

A thrill buzzes through me as I press the ignition. “Buckle up.”

CHAPTER 29

Ginevra

Father comes into the kitchen of Sophia and Roman’s mansion. Glancing around, I realize I’m alone and my stomach drops, especially when I note that determined gleam in his eyes. There’s no getting away from him now, not while everyone else is in the other room, celebrating my birthday with drinks and cake now that dinner’s over.

I slipped in here to admire their new oven. Now I’m regretting that decision.

“It seems like things are going good between you and Mr. Baron,” he says, trapping me in the corner of the kitchen. “Only one more month until you have a gold band on your finger and he joins our family. I better not be disappointed in the end.”

“How you feel in the end is not my problem,” I snap.

His face reddens, eyes narrowed. “I’ll be happy as long as you keep spreading your legs for him and he becomes my son-in-law. By association, that will make me the most powerful man on the East Coast.”

“Blake’s a person, not one of your pawns.” I face off with my father, feeling much less intimidated and more sassy than usual with him. The truth is, he can’t fucking touch me anymore. Now that I’m under Blake’s protection.

“Every person is someone else’s pawn, you stupid girl.” He eyes me. “I didn’t see your worth before, you’re not like your sisters, but I guess everyone has a use.”

“And what? My use is to snare Blake for you? If you think you’ll ever be able to control him, you’re wrong.”

“Why don’t you shut your stupid slut mouth and leave Mr. Baron to me, huh?”

I stare at him, used to this type of verbal abuse that he's spewed at me all my life. For the last twenty-one years I don’t remember a time when my father was kind to me, or loving. He’s always treated me differently from my two sisters.

“Why do you hate me so much?” I ask in a strangled voice. It’s a question that has been on the tip of my tongue numerous times, but I never dared speak it aloud. Until now.

Father frowns, as if my question caught him off guard. He shakes his head and glances away, raking a hand through his short beard. Just when I figure he’s not going to answer me, he speaks.

“Because you’re not mine.”

I snort. “Of course I’m yours, who else’s would I be?”

“Shut up for once in your life and listen because I’ll never talk about this again.” He glares at me, and I snap my mouth closed. “You’re not mine. Your father is dead—I killed him.”

My lips part in shock, all kinds of possible scenarios coming to mind. Was Mama unfaithful? I can’t see that, not with the closeness of their marriage. So…

“He kidnapped and raped your mother because of a deal between us gone wrong. I fucking killed the bastard, but then you were born. I begged my wife to get rid of you, but she was convinced that you were my child and not his. As soon as you were born, I had a paternity test done and it told the horrible truth. You’re a constant reminder of how I failed to protect my own wife, my family.” His gaze shifts from haunted to loathing.He really does hate me for something that is way beyond my control.

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