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 fluttered my eyes open and immediately groaned, a sharp, rhythmic throbbing echoing behind my temples. The world felt tilted and out of focus.


 Disoriented, I slowly pushed myself up and scanned the room. I was on a couch—the same couch, I vaguely remembered, that someone had guided me to. Or had I stumbled there myself in my intoxicated haze?


I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. I remembered meeting Marshall, the director of the board, for a drink to discuss the project.


 After that, everything was a blur of static. I had a haunting, flickering image of Bella in my mind, but was she actually there, or was it just a ghost conjured by the drink I took?


"Mr. Flemington? Good morning. How was your sleep?"


I looked up to see Zeb Marshall walking toward me, looking entirely too composed for the hour. I frowned, struggling to find my footing as the floor seemed to sway.


Chapter 77 - ~ 77