Page 38 of The Fake Affair

“So you went after her other friends instead?”

I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. “None of them were you.”

She leans into my touch.

“Right.”

My thumb traces her jaw.

“Logan?” Harrison’s voice carries from the doorway. “The board’s waiting for your speech.”

Bella steps back, but her eyes stay locked on mine. The pretense we’ve maintained—both to the board and ourselves—feels painfully thin.

“Coming,” I call back, but catch her hand before she can leave. “We’re not done here.”

* * *

A weekafter the board dinner, I’m watching Bella across the Metropolitan Museum’s grand hall, trying not to show how much James Werner’s attention to her is pissing me off.

“Your girl’s quite the catch,” Victoria says, appearing at my elbow. “Werner hasn’t left her side all evening.”

I take a measured sip of whiskey. “Werner needs to back off.”

“Territorial, are we?”

If she only knew. Werner—smug bastard that he is—has been finding excuses to touch Bella’s arm and lean too close while examining artwork. Each time, her polite smile gets more strained.

“He’s being inappropriate,” I say carefully.

“He’s being Werner.” Victoria watches them with shrewd eyes. “Though I must say, your self-control is impressive. The Logan Fraser I knew would have already threatened to destroy his company.”

She’s not wrong. The old me would have already made some calls to ensure Werner never worked in tech again. But Bella doesn’t need my protection. She’s more than capable of handling herself.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as Werner guides her toward a private gallery wing.

“Excuse me,” I mutter to Victoria.

I find them in the modern art exhibit. Werner has Bella practically backed against a Rothko, his hand on the wall beside her head.

“—dinner tomorrow?” he’s saying. “I know this fantastic little place...”

“That’s very flattering,” Bella replies, her voice professional but tight. “But as I mentioned, I’m with?—”

“Logan Fraser?” Werner scoffs. “Please. Everyone knows that’s just for show. The board’s been pushing him to settle down for years.”

Something in me snaps. A sharp, visceral break, like a string pulled too tight and finally giving way. In that moment, all I see is red, and it's in the shape of an asshole getting too close to the girl I love. “Werner.”

He turns, casual as ever, one palm still resting above Bella’s head like he owns the wall and everything around it. That smug, overfamiliar grin has no idea what’s coming. “Fraser! We were just discussing?—”

“Remove your hand,” I say quietly, “before I remove it for you.”

The warning in my tone finally registers because he steps back. Slowly. Still trying to keep the upper hand, even as he loses it. “We’re just talking?—”

“I don’t care.”

He steps back, finally reading the threat in my voice. “No need to get worked up. Bella and I were simply?—”

“My girlfriend,” I cut him off, moving between them before I even think about it, “is not interested.”

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