Page 50 of My Possessive Billionaire: Our Fake Marriage

I stared at the bed where we’d had sex not that long ago and chuckled. The sheets were still rumpled and messed up. I went over to one of his discarded shirts and held it to my body. I inhaled deeply around the collar and sighed, exulting in his scent.

I found my laptop sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up, humming the Twist under my breath, and went over to his baroque desk. I seated myself behind it, setting up my laptop on the glass countertop.

I waited for my computer to boot up, looking out the window. It certainly seemed like a gorgeous day. The sun was shining bright in a perfectly blue sky. The green leaves on the trees outside waved gently in the breeze, reflecting the golden light of the morning sun.

I pondered going for a little walk around the manor grounds, then decided against it. I did have a ton of work to do for the charity. The Amazon rainforest wasn’t going to save itself, unfortunately. And I knew that if it went, then humanity might just go with it.

While I waited for the computer to finish going through all ofits little boot-up operations, I happened to notice a thick manila file folder sitting face down on the desk. Out of idly curiosity, I picked up the folder and flipped it over so I could see the front.

Project Next Level. Again, with the Project Next Level. I noticed that the folder was significantly bigger than it had been the last time I saw it. I wondered what that meant.

I found myself opening the file folder before I even had time to think about it in detail. I wasn’t really snooping. It was truly just the kind of bored curiosity a person engages in when they’re stuck waiting for something to happen.

I figured that the project must have been close to completion, or the file folder wouldn’t have been so thick. I thumbed past a few pages that looked to be extra copy paper and then stared at a gorgeous-looking red-haired woman’s photo. I recognized her from somewhere, but I couldn’t place exactly where.

I turned the page and found a dossier with a name at the top. It hit me where I’d seen the pretty redhead. She was an actress whose star was on the rise.

Curious, I kept thumbing through the files. One after another, I uncovered a woman’s photo and a detailed dossier on her. Every single one of them was beautiful beyond comparison. Every single one of them was world famous for one thing or another.

As I went through the file, my heart sank. All these women were from the original list of candidates for the role of Evan’s fake wife. All of a sudden I felt mighty stupid.

He wasn’t trying to tell me he had feelings for me. He’d been beating around the bush about this. About Project Next Level.

Evan had compiled a list of celebrity women again for only one reason I could see. He was looking at them like items on a menu.

Why would a married man be looking at so many different women? Answer—he wasn’t planning on staying married for very long.

I covered my face with my hands. I wanted to cry, but it was like the tears wouldn’t come. I had been played for the fool quite well. Quite well indeed.

Project Next Level was all about finding my replacement. He was going to really divorce me out of our fake marriage. He was then going to pick a new candidate. Maybe one that was a lot less of a pain in the ass than me.

I was being replaced.

Chapter 19

Amanda

“Amanda, what in the world is going on with you?”

My lips drew into a thin, tight line on my face. I drummed my fingers on the conference table. We were supposed to be discussing charity business, but obviously that was going to have to wait until I dealt with the inevitable fallout from my recent actions.

When I didn’t answer Jennifer, she heaved a sigh and reached out to take my hand.

“It’s okay, Amanda. You can confide in me. Please tell me what’s going on?”

“We’re trying to have a meeting, that’s what’s going on,” I replied. “Shouldn’t we be discussing the upcoming charity ball in London? That’s a lot more important, I think.”

“Not to me, it isn’t. You’re my friend, Amanda. We’ve been friends for a long time. Long before all of this. You can confide in me.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

“Maybe we could start with this—why did you run away from the mansion? Why have you turned off your phone?”

“Because I’m trying to avoid dealing with Evan,” I said.

“He’s going crazy looking for you, you know. He’s called me andMarshall at least a dozen times in the last twenty-four hours. I haven’t told him anything except that I knew you were safe.”

“I appreciate that.”

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