Page 7 of Three Billionaire Grooms and Not the Right Bride

“Mrs. Neal also transferred a hefty sum of money into our little impostor’s bank account, right before the wedding.”

Is she blackmailing Mrs. Neal and her daughter?

This just makes her more intriguing. Also, it’s evident in all three of us that we feel that way. She fascinates us and we don’t haven’t even met her properly yet.

Still doesn’t change she’s stuck with us for life.

Chapter Six

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Hadley

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Life couldn’t be better. Actually, it just got a whole lot better.

I called up both those gangster loan sharks, prepared to end our dealings for once and for all, but they immediately told me the debt was cleared and never to call them again.

So I have no clue what actually happened, but I’m not going to throw back my good fortune in the universe’s face. No way. I’m going to take this as a gift. It just means more money for me.

I thanked Aunt Heather on the phone profusely—I’m not risking seeing her face to face just yet—but I also told her I’m thinking of going back to school. She was very happy for me and sent my commission immediately. More money. Yay me. And I did work for that money. I put up with Mrs. Neal, for crying out loud. I deserve a medal for that chore. Okay, enough about the Neals and the billionaires and their fabulous lives. I too have a fabulous life now.

Since sleep was not a factor last night, I booked my vacation and packed my bags, ready to leave first thing in the morning. Paradise, here I come. Oh my gosh, life is so freaking good.

I don’t have to deal with Mrs. Neal anymore; thank goodness for that too. I did want to find out if Tatiana was feeling any better, but I don’t think Mrs. Neal would take kindly to my innocent inquiry. I’m sure she’s fine and is getting ready for her honeymoon with her gorgeous billionaire husbands.

Also, I need to occupy my mind with other things. I can’t be thinking about them 24/7, and it hasn’t even been a full day yet. Every time I blink, there they are, Breathe, oh, there they are.

I need to put them down as nothing but untouchable fantasies. There. They don’t exist in real life.

I wave goodbye to my apartment and drag my bags behind me. I’m certainly already dressed for the island in my long summer dress and pretty sandals and sun hat. It’s going to be awesome.

According to my app, my cab is a few minutes away, but I’m so excited I’m early. This is the new me.

I step outside my building and nearly trip backwards over my bags before I remember that they don’t know who I am. By "they," I mean the three billionaires who are nonchalantly standing outside my apartment building. Yes, Edison Dunn, Cristian Harvey, and Dayton Watson are leaning against a rather expensive-looking car.

Only one explanation exists. They’re lost. Billionaires don’t purposefully visit this side of town. Also, that makes it none of my business because they don’t know who I am, and it’s best I don’t draw their attention to me by falling face-first at the sight of their obscene attractiveness.

Even dressed in jeans and t-shirts, the amount of power and raw virility they portray boggles my poor mind. Nope, I have to look away and wait for my cab. Paradise, here I come.

Except my mind is fixated on them. Are they really lost? Maybe they’re visiting someone who lives in my building, and pigs have a better chance of flying. But anything is possible. The important thing is they’re not here for me. I should just carry on as normal.

My cab should be here any minute now. I try to wait as nonchalantly as they are on the curb for my cab, but inside I’m melting. My mind is playing all sorts of dangerous games with me.

They know.

They know.

They know.

Oh god. They truly know who I am and what I’ve done. It’s okay; once they hear my explanation, everything will be sorted. I should calmly approach them. I do the direct opposite. I drop my bags and start running in the opposite direction, paradise a distant memory; where I’m going could be anywhere since I have no clue. Panic makes me stupid.

I thought I was running really fast, but in truth I barely made it a couple of steps before a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, and I was tossed over a very wide shoulder.

The deep, ultra-sexy chuckle that escapes from Dayton Watson’s lips covers me in a blanket of heat so sizzlingly hot, I forget everything, including my name.

Thankfully, my amnesia doesn’t last too long, and my flight response takes over. But no amount of kicking and screaming and basically trying to sink my teeth into any part of him helps get me released.