Page 92 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife

"Oh?"

"You’re not fooling me any, Sin."

"Not trying, you pretend toff."

"If you wanted to marry her, you didn’t need to pull this elaborate shenanigan. I mean, you could have told the rest of us that you were in love."

Love?I cough. "I barely know the woman."

The collar at my throat digs into my skin. I resist the urge to loosen another button.

"It’s a pretense, 30 days and we are done."

He taps his fingers together, "Did you sign a contract with her?"

I freeze. I didn’t. I was confident that the incriminating video would ensure that she’d do whatever I wanted. Besides, I was planning on letting her go as soon as I sign my deal with her father, which should be happening very, very soon.

"I don’t need one."

He opens and closes his mouth, then chokes. His shoulders shake, he chortles, and tears fills his cheeks.

"Don’t die on me yet." I thump his back, hard enough for him to stumble forward.

He staggers away, leans his hip against the window. "Is it a magic pussy? Is that what this is? Is she so damn succulent that your dick overpowers your brain now?"

"Told you already, don’t—"

"Yeah, yeah." He straightens, "Don’t talk about her that way. I know. And honestly, no disrespect to whatever there is between the two of you..."

"Which is nothing—"

He cups a hand behind his ear, "Are you listening to yourself? No contract, asshole. You’ve left yourself open to some crazy-arse shit here. Possible sexual harassment in the workplace. No pre-nup either. If she doesn’t take you to the cleaners by the end of this..."

I set my jaw, "She won’t."

Fact is, it honestly hadn’t crossed my mind to draw up a contract with her. Why is that? Do I trust her that much? Am I so sure about my ability to control her? Did I really think that I would be able to manipulate her into doing exactly what I want? An interesting conundrum. One I haven’t found myself in ever before. I survey the ash building up on the cigar.

He scans my features. "You have something on her?"

I tilt my head.

"Something incriminating enough that it’ll make her bow to your every whim?"

I allow my mouth to curl with a smirk.

His muscles unwind. "Well then." He puffs out the fragrant smoke. "I want to believe you…"

So do I.

"—and for your sake, I hope you come out of this unscathed. Considering...."

I slip a hand into my pocket, "Do pray tell."

"Clearly, you are slipping."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"This may be a fake ceremony, but it is legally binding. It has to be for it to work. So clearly, that’s what’s making you nervous."