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Hannah
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His Fake Fiancee Damien
TONIGHT'S the worst night of every month.My car creeps by the pristinely shaved hedges and rose bushes that linethe perimeter of my family's estate. Rounding a central water feature, I parallel park my McLaren between a shimmering Rolls-Royce and an Aston Martin.It appears most guests have arrived already for our family's monthly dinner. But I don't spot my brother's sports car.He's late, as always.Stepping out, I stare up at the building. I know those excluded from the highest echelons of society would be in awe of such a work of architecture, with its cobbled walls and tall pillars. But all I see are harrowing reminders of a past I shove deep inside myself.Taking a deep breath, I ascend the long row of steps, passing through the front door.Instantly, I recognize the foyer is different as I shrug off my long coat, studying the space. What was once gold with green accents, is now black- and-white checkered tiles and crystal chandeliers. When I dispose of my coat in a nearby clo
His Fake Fiancee Damien
IT'S AMAZING, really, how it takes a single man to ruin a family, leaving the rest obsessive, irreparable fragments of their former selves. My mother and brother bury their heads in their own unique addictions, while I strive for a revenge fantasy that might leave me more broken than before.I can never dethrone my father. I abandoned that notion years ago. His portfolio is too strong and too expansive in the tech industry. But Bass Mobile is his crown jewel, the highest grossing asset he has, and I have them in my back pocket.During the growth of my business, it was essential that they were my client. It sickened me to admit it, but I needed Oscar for the revenue, and he needed me for microchips no other company could outperform. They still can't, and now I no longer need him. Companies around the world line up to be in business with me, and Oscar knows it.He knows his time using Innovex's technology is ticking, and there's nothing he can bribe me with before I cut him off complete
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
IF WORKING for Sterling is swimming in the shallow end of the pool, then being Damien Bass's personal assistant is getting thrown out to the mercy of the sea with no life jacket."Keep up, Miss Lockwood."I'm going to drown.Trailing his long steps, clipboard in hand, my heels dig into the thin carpet. I don't know what time it is, and I sure as hell don't know where we're going. He gave me access to his online schedule—which I'm apparently supposed to run now—but it's not much help.This man is in demand. So much so, that I wonder if Sterling did any work at all. I barely saw the inside of Bass Mobile, but when I did, he was never in meetings, never on phone calls. In fact, his office was notoriously empty. I never thought it odd, but I do now.Does he slow down? Eat? Take potty breaks? I huff a breath. And does he really need to walk so fast?"Where to next?" I pump my legs harder, finally catching up to him at the rows of elevators.This morning, when I got ready for the final time
His Fake Fiancee Damien
THE WAY HANNAH paces in my office gives me the best view of her ass. "I cannot present with you, Damien. I'm serious." She whirls around, heading in the opposite direction, giving me another angle to admire. "Howcould you expect me to talk in front of all those people?"She might think she's being modest in her turtleneck top, but her skirtscreams otherwise. It's the same one she wore during her interview, black and tight in all the right places.She must know what it does to me."Because you can." I recline comfortably in my chair, stifling a groan. She doesn't have to work. I'd pay her to simply be in here. "It's not bad. There won't be that many people."She flicks her head at me, her pupils glaring.I'm lucky we're in my main office that has no glass for workers to see through. Otherwise, my employees might think my new personal assistant has lost her mind."I know what the Silicon Summit is." She pops her hip out, her hand snapping to rest on it. "There will be thousands in the
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
MY SUITCASE COULDN'T LOOK MORE WORN out. I heave my body on top of it, forcing the clothes further down. I try the zipper, but it gets stuck.Sofia sits criss cross on my bed, watching me with an amusing look on her face.She knows everything. I thought I'd keep my arrangement with Damien a secret from her, but I caved. We tell each other everything. It's been that way since we shared a dorm room in college.I'd feel bad for leaving, even if it's only for two months, if it weren't for Jenna moving into our spare bedroom next week.I glance up to find her sipping her blended beverage."It's not even Tuesday," I say.She raises her eyebrows. "Any day is a good day for a margarita. Notjust Tuesdays." Her blended strawberry concoction chills her glass cloudy. A tiny umbrella and a straw point out of the top. "You're still coming, though, right?"Practically belly flopping on top of the fabric, the zipper finally seals shut. God, it's going to be humiliating dragging this raggedy old thin
His Fake Fiancee Damien
I RELEASE her from my weight, my feet landing on the floor. Her hair sprawls out on the white cushion and her cheeks flush a bright crimson.She's dressed much more casually than when she left the office. Instead of a blouse and skirt, she wears tight jeans and a sweater. Even in less revealing clothing, she's still sexy as sin. Seeing her dress in something normal for a change gives me a glimpse at the true side of her, and it seems to awaken something carnal within me.She bristles and stands to her feet, frantically smoothing out her hair and struggling to look me in the eye. Actually, she's avoiding looking at my half-naked body altogether."I didn't expect such a warm welcome," she hisses, staring out the window with her chest heaving up and down.A dark contentment burns in my middle.I already informed my housing staff of her arrival, but they still need to see us together. I need them to believe we've been together for some time, and soon the world will think so too.A smug fe
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
I'M DREAMING.HANNAHI've never been a lucid dreamer who's acutely aware of the distinction between dreamland and reality. Every night, if I dream at all, I go about them blissfully unaware that my actions are anything but real.Except for one dream.One I wish would stop coming. I've learned to recognize its signs. An uneasy feeling prickling at the back of my neck, followed by loud blood pumping in my ears, until—The shed.I freeze in place, staring at the surrounding sunflowers and its rusted white paint.That's how it is. Average, pleasant dream, followed by a shed in the most peculiar of places. Sometimes it reveals itself while I'm walking the dreamlands of Central Park, or outside the office I work at, or in my very own living room, balancing atop the couch and coffee table.But tonight... tonight it seems to be where it truly lives, where it's always been.My family's farm.I approach it with caution, the backyard's overgrown grass brushing up against my shins. Over my should
His Fake Fiancee Hannah
I'VE BEEN in the same room with her for all of five minutes, and I already know Cyna is one of those types who thrives in madness.She doesn't have one assistant. Or two. She has five.They wrap yellow measurement ribbon around my waist, hem pantsuits and skirts on the spot here in the apartment, and refuse to slow down. No, anything below a brisk walk is positively unacceptable, like Cyna herself might pull out a ruler and smack them for slacking off.I hold my arms out as a tape circles around my breasts. I'm wearing nothing but a bra and underwear, staring into the keen pair of eyes behind round black spectacles. We're in the middle of Damien's penthouse in the living room, clean windows surrounding us on a beautiful sunny day.Anyone in Central Park or the neighboring buildings with a set of binoculars could see me right now. I chew on my bottom lip, trying to avoid the intense gaze Cyna's been giving me for the past ten minutes.She puffs on a thin cigarette held between her two
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