All Chapters of Sleeping with my bodyguard: Chapter 11 - Chapter 17

Sloane“I love him.”She said it like it meant something.Like it was supposed to fix what she’d done.I blinked. My breath caught. “You love him?” I repeated, stunned.Evelyn looked down, her lashes fluttering as tears filled her eyes. And then, shamelessly, she nodded.I let out a cold, bitter scoff. The audacity.“I… I wanted to tell you, I just… I never meant to hurt you,” she stammered, voice trembling.“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.” My voice cracked. My hands shook at my sides. “You wanted to hurt me. Don’t act like some lost, confused victim.”“Sloane, no…”“We were best friends for ten years, Evelyn. Ten! I told you everything. Everything! I let you into my world, my life, my heart, and now here you are, standing in front of me, telling me you love my husband?”I paused. “Ex-husband,” I corrected sharply, my voice like a blade.Evelyn’s chin quivered. “H-He loves me too,” she whispered.And just like that, it got worse.I laughed. A short, harsh sound. “So what now? You wa

Sloane“What the actual hell?!” Her voice echoed down the hallway, heels stamping on the floor as she stormed into my office. I didn’t have to look up to see who it was; her expensive perfume already gave it away.“Hey Z,” I said casually, still scrolling on my iPad.“Uh-uh, do not, hey me, Sloane,” she snapped. Her oversized dark shades blocked her eyes, but I could still feel the dagger she was throwing at me.I sighed, getting up.“How could you? I thought I was your best friend. But nooo,” she flailed dramatically, “I had to find out on the freaking internet,” she emphasized the word like it had personally betrayed her. “That my best friend’s bodyguard is actually a billionaire. And not annnyy billionaire but freaking Nikolai Dorne”Now beside her, I led her to the couch. She didn’t resist, of course; she lived for dramatic entrances. I placed my hand on her shoulder as she lowered onto the couch, giving her light massages. “I know what you’re doing, and it's ohhh,” she groaned, “

Sloane’s POV“Wait…” I blinked, sitting straighter. “Did you just say Paris?”Nikolai, sitting across from me in that infuriatingly calm way of his, glanced at his watch like we were discussing the weather and not an international flight. “We leave in forty minutes.”I blinked again. “I…what?! Are you serious?”He nodded once, unbothered. “I made dinner reservations at Le Monarque Noir. Very public. High-profile. Paparazzi will be swarming the place. If we’re going to sell this whole marriage thing, we need evidence, photos, headlines, the works.”I gawked at him like he’d lost his billionaire brain. “But… I haven’t even packed!”My hands flew to my hair in panic. “My skincare. My makeup. My shoes! I can’t just show up to Paris looking like I rolled out of a car nap!”“You won’t need to pack,” he said smoothly, resting one arm on the armrest. “A dress is being delivered once we land. From Maison Clarisse de Vienne.”I froze. “Wait…the Maison Clarisse de Vienne? The fashion house that