“The only time I’ll stay away from her is if she tells me herself.”
Axel tried to push forward again, but he halted at my palm. “Tell him, Sunshine. Tell him to never contact you again.”
Never again?The audacity hit me like a knee to my ribs. Our arrangement was temporary, not a lifetime sentence. Nothing in our carefully scripted agreement gave Axel Pierce the right to intimidate Mathew, to draw lines in the sand about my future, let alone issue ultimatums like he actually had a say in my life!
Rage flushed through my body. “Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped.
“He left you, Sunshine.”
“This really isn’t your concern,” I replied.
“Isn’t it?” Axel raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping. “You’re with me now. I would say that damn well makes it my concern.”
I gritted my teeth and lowered my tone to a furious whisper. “You don’t give a shit?—”
“Careful, Sunshine.” His warning was soft but clear.
The influencer was closer now, definitely recording, maybe even live streaming. I had no idea if she could hear us, but our body language—me caught between two men leaning aggressively toward each other—screamed love triangle.
A love triangle was not part of our carefully constructed PR narrative. Neither was a public fistfight.
“I have to go,” I said apologetically to Mathew, my heart twisting at the prospect of leaving him here, thinking I was deeply in love with Axel. It was bad enough that this fake relationship required me to lie to my followers. But lie to Mathew? That wasn’t something I was comfortable with. Wasn’t something I signed up for.
“She’ll never love you the way she loves me,” Mathew warned.
Something predatory shifted in Axel’s expression. “Says the boyfriend who abandoned her for some career opportunity.”
Mathew’s face paled, but his eyes hardened with resolve. “Well, I’m back now. I came back to win her over. Now that I know she’s in the arms of a monster, I’ll fight even harder for her. If only to save her from you.”
11
WHEN YOUR FAKE FIANCÉ HAS ANGER MANAGEMENT ISSUES AND A POCKETKNIFE. #REDFLAGSORGREENFLAGS
AXEL
“You complete and utter jackass!” Dakota’s voice sliced through the car for the seventeenth time. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Like she was the only one having a bad night here.
I kept my eyes on the road, my molars grinding together.
The photos from tonight were probably already online. The ones that showed a perfect couple having a perfect dinner, perfect smiles for the cameras. Each staged moment had felt like swallowing glass. Every time we attempted to look more in love, I’d thought of my mother, who used to play the perfect wife at public functions while, inside, her world was crumbling.
Those weren’t the only photos taken tonight though. I’d seen the influencers’ phones come out when Dakota’s ex showed up, their eyes lighting up like they’d struck gold. Perhaps they’d publish images of our altercation with Mathew instead. The real moments, messy and raw and human. It would make my soul feel better, but would destroy everything we’d worked for.
“Mathew is none of your business,” she continued, staring out the window now. “Our history is none of your business.”
Dakota Blackwood might look like a collectible doll—petite with those delicate wrists that seemed like they’d snap in a strong breeze—but, Christ, the woman could weaponize words better than the dictionary.
And I was giving her plenty of ammunition tonight.
“He’s a dick.”
“And what does that make you?” she countered.
The man who’s been watching you for years. The man who felt things in my office, in my bathroom while cleaning your wound, and tonight when I kissed you that I never intended to. And was so shocked by it, I did the only thing I could: move safely back into rivals territory.
“You embarrassed me!” Dakota waited while I simply stared out the godforsaken windshield. “Hello? Are you listening to me?”
