I frowned at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Nah. I’m just invested now.”
“I’m leaving,” I muttered, pushing off the couch again.
“Take a breath,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Call her and ask to meet someplace public. A bar. A club. The fucking library. This is Chicago. It’s your turf. Just pick a place and tell her to meet you there.”
I paused. “We were going to do that earlier, but she canceled.”
“Sure, but she said she’s here for work, right? Maybe she was just stuck in a meeting. It’s late now. If she shows, great. You get answers. If she cancels again, then she’s not real and you can start therapy.”
“I do not need therapy.”
“You absolutely need therapy,” he said without hesitation. “Probably regardless of how this plays out.”
I exhaled slowly, tension leaking out of my shoulders as logic started settling into place. “You’re right.”
He smirked. “I know.”
“I need to meet her. Actually meet her.”
“Correct.”
Will leaned back, seemingly satisfied until he suddenly tilted his head again and let out a long sigh. “That only leaves us with one more question. What are you going to do about your feelings for your future wife?”
Unfortunately, that question was a lot harder to answer than anything else he’d said tonight.
CHAPTER 22
KATE
The weekend blurred into one long, futile exercise in trying to get over myself. Or maybe it’d been more trying to bury the dream life I thought I would have.
Same difference, really.
Either way, by Monday morning, I sat in a conference room across from Alex and Nate with a stack of finalized prenup paperwork spread out in front of me like it was a legal declaration of surrender.
Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, the polished table reflecting the crisp edges of the documents and a gold pen already waiting beside my hand. I kept looking at it rather than directly across at my future husband.
I hadn’t seen Nate since our deranged kiss, but the memory of it was on a constant loop in my head, making it difficult to keep my focus sharp as I scanned paragraph after paragraph. The provisions were all there, every protection for my father’s firm, every safeguard around the Hinds account, and every other contingency I’d demanded.
Nate hadn’t fought me on any of it. I should’ve been happy about that, but instead, I just wondered why. Why he was giving so damn much and not asking for anything in return.
When I reached the final signature page, I paused to inhale once through my nose. Then I signed, the pen scratching across paper with absolute finality—and just like that, it was done.
We were getting married.
I slid the papers toward Alex and he flipped through quickly, nodding as satisfaction settled into the tight lines of his expression. When he looked up again, he smiled at me. “That was the last major hurdle. It’s all roses and seating charts from here.”
Nate cleared his throat and glanced at his brother. “Do we know who leaked the engagement to the press?”
He sounded steady, but I could hear the strain tucked into his tenor, like tension wired through steel. Alex leaned back in his chair. “No idea, but the public is eating it up. The market response has been… enthusiastic. Even Hinds is impressed with the attention.”
A small but sharp jolt of betrayal sparked in my chest. Abram Hinds had been in my life since I was a little girl. He attended our family dinners during the holidays and he used to slip me extra dessert when my parents weren’t looking.
Now, he was proudly parading my predicament around like it was a marketing strategy. A predicament I was only in because of him.
“He might’ve been responsible for it,” I said quietly. “Public pressure makes it impossible for anyone to back out, so he benefits the most. It’s basically a guarantee that this is happening, and on his terms.”
