Chapter Seven Fake dating proposal

“Girlfriend? You didn’t have to do that,” I said once I was sure we were out of earshot.

“What are you talking about?” Adams kept a straight face, pretending not to know what I meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I snapped, slightly annoyed.

“But you played along, didn’t you?”

“Of course I had to. I didn’t have a choice. I had to cover for your slip-up.”

“Okay, it’s nothing serious. I just came up with it at the last minute,” he said, brushing it off.

“Maybe we need to revise our contract.”

I stopped walking, folded my arms, and turned to face him fully.

He paused, looking at me with his brows knitted in confusion.

“What?”

“Come on, Ava.” He raised his arm in frustration. “Don’t overthink this.”

“I’m not overthinking it,” I stated, standing my ground.

“If you want this to be a partnership, you have to keep me informed about your every move. I’m not a stray dog you can string along with your commands,” I fumed, keeping my voice steady.

“I did.”

“You didn’t.”

“I have a solution.” He stepped closer to me.

“We’re going to attend a lot of social events together. Since we have the same goal, why don’t we fake a relationship?” he said smoothly, his voice laced with teasing.

I stepped back, breaking eye contact when I could no longer stand the intensity of his gaze.

“No,” I refused without hesitation.

Deep down, I didn’t trust myself around him if we pretended to be a couple.

“I think we need to focus on getting our pound of flesh. Everything else is a distraction.”

“It can also be part of our revenge,” he persuaded.

“Besides, romance sells. If we’re going to destroy them, we might as well give them a show,” he added with a crooked grin.

The strange gleam in his eyes revealed a side of him I hadn’t seen before.

I recalled Vincent’s reaction when I called Adam baby. His clenched fist and the vein throbbing in his forehead as he struggled to conceal his anger.

“You know what? I agree. It could be part of our revenge.”

“But…” I held up my finger.

“No emotional connection, no physical intimacy, and our boundaries must be respected.”

“Understood.” He nodded. “I won’t do anything you don’t consent to.”

His last words sent a sudden wave of heat between my thighs. Our eyes remained locked, neither of us willing to look away.

Thankfully, someone took the microphone onstage and drew our attention.

“Hello, everyone. We have a special announcement to make…”

“We are pleased to announce the Harrington Group of Companies’ new project. We have purchased the Divinity Foster Home. Of course, we…”

His shoulders drooped, and the smile on his face faded.

“They’ve been moved to a more spacious building that provides everything they need, with enough compensation,” the speaker continued.

The hall erupted in loud applause and cheers.

He gripped the table until his knuckles turned pale.

I looked at him, surprised by his reaction.

I wondered what his connection to Divinity Foster Home was.

He frantically reached for his phone in his pocket and dialed a number.

Before I could ask him what was going on,

He strode away, his steps quick and heavy as he cursed under his breath, urging whoever was on the other end to pick up.

I followed him,

I watched him answer the call. I could hear him clearly, while I could barely hear the person on the other end.

“What do you mean they’ve already moved them? Find a way to fix this and get back to me!” he yelled, his hands raking through his hair. His fingers trembled as he held the phone.

I stood there, confused. There were many layers to what I thought I knew about him. A few minutes ago, he had been calm, composed, and completely in control.

“What’s going on?” I asked quietly, searching his face.

“Let’s get out of here.” Without hesitation, he held my hand and moved towards the garage.

“Are you okay?” I asked repeatedly.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked towards our car parked in the garage.

He brought out his car key and got into the driver’s seat. He opened the passenger door and beckoned me to enter.

I didn’t move. I stood there with my arms folded.

“I want an explanation.”

“Ava, get inside now,” Adams ordered, his patience wearing thin.

I opened the car door, sat down, and shut it behind me.

“Put your seatbelt on.”

“Not until I know what this is all about,” I refused to back down.

“Don’t be stubborn.” He shot me a hard glare.

He reached across me and grabbed the seatbelt. I tried to push his arm away, but he caught my wrist with one hand and pulled the belt across my chest with the other. The buckle clicked into place.

“Now sit still,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

We drove out of the event center, my mind racing with thoughts about his abrupt behavior.

We glided onto the express road, which was covered with streetlights. Music played softly through the car stereo.

“Can you tell me what's going on”, I pressed further.

He didn't say a word; his silence was deafening. I noticed his lips trembling. He was trying so hard to keep it together.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he pressed harder on the accelerator.

I looked away, trying to distract myself as the drizzle blurred the city lights outside the window.

The car surged forward and sped off.

I gripped the seat, my heart jumping into my stomach.

“Adams, slow down,” I pleaded, my voice choking with emotion.

His jaw clenched as he pressed harder on the accelerator, his eyes fixed on the road.

“Adams!” I shouted, panic rising in my chest.

Fear crawled up my spine as the streetlights blurred past the windows. My hair, pinned into a bun, loosened and flailed all over my face.

“What’s wrong with you? Slow down!”

He didn’t move or blink. The needle on the speedometer keeps rising.

My fingers fumbled against the door handle, my whole body trembling.

“Stop the car!”

He slammed his foot on the accelerator instead.

Is this how I’m going to die?

“Please, stop! I don’t want to die!” My voice came out as a desperate plea.

For the first time, his eyes flickered toward me. He saw the tears running down my cheeks. Something in his expression changed.

His foot lifted from the accelerator. The abrupt halt sent me lurching toward the dashboard, but the seatbelt held me back.

He pulled up in front of the gate. The mansion behind it was huge.

“Bastards,” he cursed under his breath, hitting the steering wheel.

His chest rose and fell violently as he inhaled sharply through his teeth. He opened his door and stepped out.

I forced myself upright, shaking so hard. My feet were rooted to the spot as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

I took off the wet strands of hair sticking to my tear-streaked face. I was a total mess.

He opened the passenger-side door and leaned closer to me.

“Follow me,” he instructed, completely unapologetic, his face serious and frightening.

He didn’t wait for me. He trudged towards the mansion. I stared after him before stepping out of the car.

I looked around slowly, taking in the environment I was in. Darkness enveloped everywhere except for the streetlights.

My eyes fell on the men standing in front of the mansion. They were all dressed in black, each holding a gun in his hand.

My fingers tightening around my clutch as dread settled in my stomach.