He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

"I swear, I think your plan tonight is to make sure I'm stuffed to the point of no return," I teased, eyeing the decadent dessert being placed before me and Clinton.


This was our third date, and each one seemed to chip away at the ice surrounding my heart.


Since that night I'd confessed the truth about my marriage to Clinton, something had shifted. I felt accepted, even if the sadness of my broken heart still hummed in the background like static.


I hadn't heard a word from Franklin since the disastrous dinner at the estate. I felt like he was punishing me—keeping me in legal limbo by refusing to sign the divorce papers. If he didn't love me, why keep me caged? Dates with Clinton were my only distraction, a way to stop my mind from drifting back to images of Franklin and Bella together.


"Well? Is the plan working?" Clinton asked, a playful glint in his eyes.


Chapter 43 - ~ 43