“I heard you wanted to speak to me,” he said, coming into the room, turning the monitor, and taking back the mouse.
“Yes,” I said, sucking in a deep breath to try to bring some order back to my nervous system that felt a little fried from looking at the evidence of our wedding.
“I’m assuming you aren’t just here for access to your photos and videos.”
“I am not.”
I reached my hand into my bag, grabbing a handful of five-thousand-dollar coins and stacking them up on the desk.
“What’s this?”
“I was thinking that the chances you submitted the paperwork for my supposed wedding today are slim. If the paperwork just so happened to… fall into the shredder and those image and video files got corrupted…”
Johnny’s gaze slid to the stacks of chips. It was a lot of money. I could see him calculating just how much.
But he didn’t have that light in his eye I expected when he looked at me again.
“I’m afraid there are procedures, Mrs. Valentine.”
“Sure, but there are ways… around procedures,” I insisted, stacking more chips, wishing I’d gone back to my room to get the rest of the ones hidden in my boot. I’d put every dime I had down on this if it made it go away.
“What you are suggesting is illegal.”
“What should be illegal is allowing an extremely intoxicated woman to getmarried. That certainly seems like something she shouldn’tlegallybe able to consent to. For God’s sake, if I was too drunk to legally consent to consummating this marriage, then I definitely couldn’t consent to entering into it.”
“I assure you, everything was done legally. As you can see, we have photo and video proof that you were quite willing, one might even say overjoyed, to be married. Once the ceremony is performed, we are legally obligated to submit the paperwork.”
Hope deflated in my chest.
They probably dealt with hysterical and enraged people every day. People who were drunk when they saidYestoo.
He wasn’t going to be swayed by my emotions.
And the money didn’t seem even the least bit tempting either.
My jaw quivered, and I had to fight to blink back the tears that flooded my eyes.
“Look, Mrs. Valentine, there are plenty of people who regret this decision. Luckily, this city is full of attorneys who can… make it all go away.”
“Not without a trace,” I snapped, swiping my chips back into my bag and storming out of the room before I cried in front of the bastard.
“Can I get a copy of these?” a newly familiar voice said as I moved out of the office.
Then there he was.
Harrison.
Casually leaning over the reception desk, looking at something on her computer.
Our wedding images and video, no doubt.
“Youbastard,” I snapped, storming over toward him.
“My lovely wife—” he started as he straightened.
I shoved my hands into his chest, making him go back a step, his brows raising.
“How much did you pay him?” I snapped.
