Page 61 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
This entire scenario isn’t going as I’d planned. I am so close to getting my revenge… Not just mine, but a comeuppance for all the Seven, and this tiny thing is threatening to destroy every inch of my carefully orchestrated scenario.
I lean forward and grab her wrist; she freezes. Her shoulders go so rigid, I am sure she’s having a seizure. "Relax." I place my fingers on the pulse that flutters against her skin.
She tugs at her hand and I release her. What is this weird compulsion to touch her, huh?
"You don’t need that… that device for our discussion."
"But," she shuffles in her seat, "I had a presentation, all prepared for the social media plan."
"Bet you have all the highlights up here." I tap my temple, "Give me the key points."
"I don’t do impromptu." She wrings her fingers together. "Mr. Sterling, I put a lot of thought into that deck."
"So you must be bloody familiar with the gist of it. Summarize it for me."
Her chin wobbles and a bead of sweat slides down her cheek, "I… my mind is a blank."
Stage fright? More likely, she's still riled up about what happened in the boardroom. I lean back in my very comfortable leather chair, place my elbows on the armrests.
"You are going to learn a few things in the time you are with me, Pink."
"You mean like how to misuse your power." She starts ticking items off on her fingers, "How to use your money to buy the silence of your team, manipulate people’s lives as if they were mere playthings…" She draws in a breath.
"Is that how you speak to the man who holds your future in his hands?"
She blinks, looks down. "I'm sorry... I am not always this impolite; it's just, you can be annoying."
"Oh?" I tilt my head.
"I am also not used to losing." She juts out her chin.
I peruse her features, "Neither am I."
I hold her gaze for a beat, then steeple my fingers together. "Better?"
Yeah, so that little diversion had been to take her mind off of the task at hand; one way to get past nervousness. A little trick I’ve learned along the way, and apparently, it worked for her.
Her forehead furrows. She peruses my features, then nods. "As we’ve already agreed, I’ll be shadowing you—"
"Living in my house"
"—for six days more."
"Six days and three hours"
"Right." She opens her mouth as if to tell me off, then squeezes her lips together.
I frown. Is she going to behave herself? I hope not. It was more interesting when she was fighting me, hmm?
She sits up straight, "The original strategy had been to humanize the face of FOK Media, in order to generate positive PR in the hope that it would rub off on the faces of the people involved i.e., the same people who are the promoters of the 7A company."
"Agencies are always good at this, huh?"
"Huh?"
"Summarizing the brief I give them and throwing my words back at me."
She balls her fingers into fists.
I raise an eyebrow.
She stuffs her hands in her lap, then seems to compose herself.
"As I was saying, that was the purpose behind FOK Media, except I don’t think your idea will work."
