Page 48 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

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At least he’d set the alarm for 8.15 am... which had given me enough time to make it here despite the rush hour jam on the tube.

Speaking of, why had he thrown me that little carrot?

The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I shove open the double doors, step inside, come to a pause.

At the head of the table is Sinclair, "You’re late." He glares at me.

"As you planned." I step inside; the door snicks shut behind me.

"Explain?"

"This entire sabotage operation of yours is not going to work."

"Oh?"

My knees wobble. I grip my tote bad, and lurch forward.

"Ms. West?"

I stutter. "Wh... what?"

"Lock the door, will you?"

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