Page 47 of The Wrong Fiancée

It had been two weeks since the party—the last time I'd seen Elika.

She wasn't cleaning rooms anymore. She was still working in the restaurants but as a hostess and not a server. It was part of the management training program she was now enrolled in. She was also helping to set up the resort's first art exhibition—which Dante hoped would become a new revenue source for his high-end hotels and resorts.

Archer Arts & Antiquities was supplying the art and the connections with local artists. I was not involved, as this was being managed by someone from our US office—but I'd kept tabs on how Elika was doing. According to my source, she was knowledgeable and was getting along very well with everyone on the team. The words "hardworking," "smart," and "sweetheart" had been used to describe her.

Dante and I were flying out together on a chartered plane, first to Rome, where I was going to spend some days authenticating art Archer Arts & Antiquities was planning to acquire before I went to my office in Hong Kong.

"All okay?" Felicity asked, wrapping her arms around my waist, her cheek resting against my back.

I put my hands on hers and peeled them away from me. I had been waiting until the last minute to tell her—because I didn't want to be here when the drama began as I knew it would.

I turned around to face her.

"Sit." I led her to one of the outdoor sofas on the lanai.

She looked up at me in a green sundress, as beautiful as always. But since we’d come to Kauai, I’d stopped focusing on the surface and started seeing deeper—discovering a side of Felicity I didn’t like much.

I had talked to my parents and told them what I was doing and they were in wholehearted agreement. Sure, they liked Felicity, but they were also appalled with how the Thatchers seem to be small and petty people. It was just gauche, as Mom put it, to go after a relative because they were lower in socioeconomic status.

I crouched in front of Felicity and took her hands in mine, hating that I had to hurt her. But if we got married, it would be a disaster—an epic one. We weren't suited for each other. I wanted to be with a woman who was smart, intelligent, and poised, yes—but also someone who had compassion and empathy. Someone who cared about people, who would care for me and my family—not because of my last name, but because that was who she was. I needed a woman who would get along with my sisters-in-law, Emilia and Elsa. I could see now that woman wasn't Felicity. She'd invariably compete with them—because that was her nature. What had appealed to me in a work setting didn't in a personal one. Maybe that made me a hypocrite, but I didn't want to marry someone because they were professionally capable.

Damian had warned me there would be fallout since we were in some art acquisition negotiations that Sam was helping us with and had wondered if I could put the breakup on hold. Emilia had lost her shit with him, and Damian had protested that it was amere suggestion. I knew then I was doing the right thing. Felicity would not be the one telling someone to put their personal livesahead of their professional ones—to put what was true to them in front of profit.

"What?" she asked, a broad smile on her face. "You want me to come with you? You know I'd love to."

She'd been asking to join me and I kept putting her off, saying I'd be busy, and reminding her that she had a lot of work to do as well. All bullshit. Even before I had consciously made the decision to end the engagement, in my heart, I knew it was coming, maybe from the start, even before I met Elika. Seeing her again had only solidified the belief that I'd made a hasty mistake. I wanted what my brothers had—and I had been enamored with the outward shell of Felicity.

"I can't marry you, Fee." Pain marred her face, but I knew this was the right thing to do for both of us. "I'm sorry. But being here with you has made me realize that I'm not suited for you."

She stared at me, her eyes wide. "What?"

I let go of her hands and rose. I put some distance between us and leaned against the railing of the lanai. "I don't think we're right for each other."

"What?" she repeated.

She was in shock, though the fact that I hadn’t touched her since the morning Elika walked in on us having sex should’ve been a clear sign things weren’t going the way they should. The fact that I’d stopped trying to be patient with her mother should’ve been another clue. And all the constant fighting—because she wanted more of my attention, different attention, or something else entirely—should’ve been a huge red flag. It took me a while to catch on to what was happening, but eventually, I did.

"I'm sorry, Fee. I can't marry you. I thought I loved you, and I do care about you, but not enough to spend my life with you."

The words were harsh, I knew that, but I had to be clear with her that this was indeed over, that I didn't want this, and there was no changing my mind.

She came up to me, her eyes filled with tears. She put a hand on my chest. "You just have cold feet, Dean. Is it because I madethat announcement about a wedding date? We…we don't have to marry in the spring. I was just…you know…we can?—"

I took her hand in mine and held it away from me. "It's not that, Fee. I rushed the engagement. I'm sorry."

She flinched and pushed me. "What the fuck does that mean?"

I took a step away from her. "I got to know you here in the past few weeks and I can see that we're not a good fit."

I knew she wouldn't make it easy, wouldn't say, "Hey, this is great, I was thinking the same thing."

She had beenveryexcited about dating an Archer and being engaged to one. Now that I knew her better, I had a feeling that it wouldn't have mattered who I was. It was my last name, my connection with the art world, and my wealth that made me attractive to Felicity.

"Are you sleeping with someone else? Is that why you haven't touched me in weeks?" she demanded. "Have you been cheating on me?" The last question was a scream.

"No. No. And, no."

"What?"

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