Page 9 of Forever Fake

His jaw muscles work, like he doesn’t want to tell me the truth. “That’s none of your business.”

I force a coy smile. “Tell me, or the answer is a hardno.”

How badly does he need me? I’m about to find out, I hope.

The idea of being temporarily married to this man makes my stomach twist, but spending two years in prison would be far, far worse. I’m not prison material. I’d never survive.

But Blake Baron? I might not be able to survive him for twelve months either.

He rakes his fingers through his blond waves. “There’s something I want. To get it, I have to take a wife before I’m thirty-five.”

Thirty-five?God, he’s ancient.

“When do you turn thirty-five?” I ask more out of curiosity than anything, noting that his explanation was vague at best.

“November.”

Fucking hell, we only have a few months. Like six months. I’d be married in less than six months.

Am I really considering doing this?

What choice do I have?

I clear my throat and smooth my sweaty palms down my dress. “Why me? Surely you could blackmail or bribe any woman into being your fake wife.”

Pocketing his phone, he shakes his head. “One of the conditions is that I cannot, in fact, bribe or pay a woman to marry me. However, my step-mother overlooked the possibility of blackmail, so… here we are.” He shrugs, as if he’s not altering the course of my entire life to get what he wants, all seemingly on a whim, on a seized opportunity.

Whatever he’s after must be important to him. But… he’s a selfish bastard for putting me in this position.

An annoying little voice reminds me that I putmyselfin this position by stealing from the wrong man. Did I really think I wouldn’t get caught?

Yes, yes I did.

Obviously, I’ve gotten far too brazen. Arrogant in my actions. Of course there are security cameras in his house—duh. Now I have to eat humble pie—in the form of whatever Mr. Baron decides to serve up.

I’m so fucked. But the alternative is worse.

With any other situation, I might be able to rely on my father’s contacts to help me out of this, but even Papa knows not to go up againstThe Black Baron. I could turn to other powerful men, either one of my sisters’ husbands. Roman De Luca has half this city in his pocket, but he’s also Blake’s best friend. Dimitri Kozlov is a Bratva leader, but Mr. Baron saved his life last year so… I’m shit out of luck.

“You said it’s only for a year?” I want to make sure I heard that right.

“That’s correct. A year from our wedding date. We’ll marry this summer, well before my thirty-fifth birthday, give it exactly twelve months and then divorce. As long as our act is convincing, everything will work out.”

“Convincing to who, exactly?” I need to know who we’re deceiving.

My god, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but I don’t see a way out of it. I’ve survived worse than Mr. Baron. I can do this. Can’t I?

“Everybody,” he says. “We will never know who’s watching, so we must convince everyone. Your family and mine. Our friends, too.”

I balk at that. “My sisters will see right through this.”

“Not if you convince them otherwise.” He cocks his head. “I know you’re a good actress, I’ve seen it for myself, just tonight. Ihave faith in you to lie your way through this situation. If you let me down, our deal is off.”

I scoff at him. “You really love tossing around threats, don’t you? This sounds like I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

He bites down on his lower lip, considering, and it’s sexy as hell. “I suppose you’re right. The question is, are you going to give up now and go to prison, or fight like hell to come out of this on the other side?”

I lift my chin high. I might not know what I want to do with my life, and I might have terrible taste in men, but one thing I’m sure of is that I’m a fighter—through and through. Mr. Baron will rue the day he forced me into this. I’ll make sure of it.

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