Page 92 of Forever Fake

Nothingis fine.

“I don’t know about that.” Sophia drinks her coffee. “Roman dragged him into my living room last night. I’ve never seen Blake like that before. He was intoxicated, but more than that, there was this vulnerability about him I didn’t think a man like him was capable of having.”

“Oh?” I hide my curiosity behind my coffee cup.

“Roman thinks Blake is in love with you.”

I snort. “Right. That’s why we’re meeting tomorrow afternoon to sign divorce papers.” I set my cup down with more force than necessary and the contents slosh onto my fingers. “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to think about him anymore. I’m leaving in a few days, and I want all of you to come visit me. We’ll have a house-warming party.”

“I’ll plan it,” Arianna volunteers.

We spend the rest of the day together, going out for lunch and shopping. We visit all of my favorite places in the city, since between my father and Blake, I have no intention of coming back to New York anytime soon.

Late that night I return to my hotel. The receptionist calls me over, handing me a letter that arrived earlier. It’s typed, instead of hand-written, and unsigned. But I’m certain it’s from Blake, because who else would make such demands?

Meet me in the hotel conference room.

I’ll be waiting, magpie.

I scoff. Now he’s back to pet names? The arrogance of that man. Why couldn’t he wait until tomorrow? He must have met someone else. What other reason can he have for getting this divorce settled as soon as humanly possible?

The thought of him with another woman fills me with blinding rage. While I was pining for him in Italy was he jumping into bed with her? That motherfucker.

Heart pounding, hands shaking, I make my way to the hotel’s small conference room. Barging through the door, I start, “Howdareyou?—?”

“Ginny, so nice to see you again.”

My entire body turns to ice. Frozen in place, I blink at the last man I expected to see in this room. He can’t be here. He’s in prison. This is impossible.

When my brain finishes malfunctioning, adrenaline washes through me. I turn on my heel, desperate to get away, but Oliver’s too fast. He slams his palm against the door, blocking my escape. Frantically, I look around for another exit. There has to be one, right?

“You’re not getting away this time, Ginny. Come here.” Oliver grabs me by my hair, my scalp burning, and tugs my back into his chest. His other hand comes up, covering my nose and mouth with a too sweet, stinky rag.

That’s the last thing I remember.

CHAPTER 43

Blake

Glancing at my watch, I groan. How is it only nine in the morning? I’ve been up for hours, yet every time I look at the clock it’s only been five minutes since the last time I looked. One o’clock this afternoon, when I’m meeting Gin, seems like forever away.

I lean back in my chair, stare at the ceiling, and go over all the things I want to say to her in person. She thinks we’re meeting to settle the divorce, but first I’m going to get on my knees, confess my feelings for her, and beg for a chance to make this work between us. One chance is all I need, now that I realize what an astronomical fool I’ve been. All of my excuses to not fall in love with her aren’t important anymore.

She’s too young and sweet for me. That’s what I love most about her. How much she cares, how she treats me like she really sees me and not just my money.

She’s a gold-digger. She’s spent twenty-two point four million dollars of my money and I don’t give a fuck. In fact, she can have it all, if it makes her happy. All I want is her happiness.

I always thought I was better off alone, but a month without her has been agony. I buried myself in putting Yve behind bars,not fully acknowledging the aching emptiness in my chest until I went to get my wife, only to find her not there.

Now I have to make a fucking appointment to talk to her? Abruptly, I push to my feet. That’s bullshit. I’m not waiting another goddamn minute. Selfless, nice Blake can die a slow death for all I care because this isn’t working. This isn’t who I am. I can’t be a better man for Gin, she’ll have to take me as I am, flaws and all.

I’m going to get my wife back. Right. Now.

My phone rings and I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration before answering. “Baron.”

“Blake,” Yve voice purrs on the other end, and I stiffen. She’s in prison, what the fuck does she want? “I’ve reconsidered what I told you at the courthouse, you can have your mother’s possessions. However, you’ll have to get there in thirty minutes or everything goes up in flames.”

She gives me an address in Long Beach on the bay, an hour's drive from Manhattan.

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