Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 37136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Once I had only anger towards Walker, but now I have sympathy, too. Still, being so petty as to be jealous that a woman loved her child more than him is ludicrous. I don’t see one problem with Antonio making sure he won’t be a senator again. His priorities and ethics are clearly messed up.
“I saw the marriage license. Not to mention it was in the paper, Georgie. A billionaire doesn’t get married without it making the news,” he barks out in that tone he uses when he’s mad but doesn’t want anyone around us to hear.
I stand there, staring at him in shock. I didn’t get married. What the hell?
I turn and make my way towards the elevators.
“Where are you going?” I hear Walker yell behind me.
I look back at him. “If I were you, I’d stay away from me unless you want to make things worse with Antonio. He doesn’t like when things upset me. This much you’ve seen already.”
I leave him standing there without so much as much as a goodbye. He’d be wise to heed my warning, but petty men like him tend to be stupid, too.
When I finally make it back to the suite, I head straight for Antonio’s office. I stalk over to his desk and begin to dig through the drawers. I don’t give two flying shits about being nosey.
When I see a file with my name on it, I pull it out and open it. The first thing on the top is indeed a marriage license. A signed marriage license. The signature is mine.
Those slick bastards. I must have missed this. When I signed the Mistress Contract, I must have signed a marriage contract, too. I can clearly see he didn’t rip this one up along with the Mistress Contract.
I look through the rest of the folder and find a ton a pictures of me and information on Walker.
I pick up my phone and send Antonio a text.
Me: Found the marriage license. I’m packing my shit.
Chapter Fifteen
Don
I’m sitting in my office and going over mindless paperwork. Anyone in my staff could handle this, but Georgia wanted to go to lunch with Stella alone. I keep thinking about her, counting down the seconds until I get to see her again.
My assistant, Jen, walks in, and I roll my eyes. “Don’t bring me anything else for the rest of the day. I mean it.”
“Don, I’ve got ten other people who work for you on speed dial to handle this. But if you’re here, why not just take care of it yourself?”
She gives me a knowing smirk, and I lean back in my chair. “She put you up to this, didn’t she?”
Jen smiles and lays the stack of papers down in front of me. “Peaches is very charming. She told me to keep you occupied while she enjoys her lunch and gets gossip about you.”
With that, Jen walks out of the office, closing the door behind her.
Letting out a sigh, I reach for my cell phone. I put it on the far side of my desk so I’d leave her alone instead of texting her every three seconds like I wanted to.
I see I have a couple of missed texts from Charles, a friend who owns the Snake Eyes casino, asking about doing a husband and wives poker night. I laugh, thinking that nobody wants to go against my girl. She’ll take them all down.
I scroll down and see I missed one from Georgia about a half-hour ago.
Sweet Cream: Found the marriage license. I’m packing my shit.
“Fuck!” I leap out of my chair and run for my office door, flinging it open and heading for the elevator. As the doors open, I see Jen jump up from her desk, and I turn to shout at her. “Get security by the front door! Find Georgia, and don’t let her leave the casino! Now!”
The door opens, and I slide my card in, hitting the code for the penthouse.
“Please, please, please.” I’m begging the elevator. Don’t let her have gone. Let me get to her in time. I can explain everything.
When the elevator door finally opens and I walk through the double doors of the penthouse, I’m momentarily relieved to see that Georgia is standing in the entrance. Panic sets in, however, when I see bags and boxes of her stuff are sitting there. She’s packed.
“Georgia. Please, baby. I can explain.”
She puts her hands on her hips and starts tapping her high-heeled foot on the ground.
“We’re rich. We should have people doing this shit for us.”
I stand there, not knowing what she’s talking about. I open my mouth, only to close it again, not knowing how to answer that.
“Why are you standing there like someone kicked your puppy? I’m not leaving you, Antonio.”
The sense of relief that washes over me is so great, it’s scary.
“Then why have you packed?” I say, pointing towards her stuff.
“Because we’re married, and I’m not living up in some hotel like a secret side piece. No, I’m your wife. You’re getting me a house. You can afford it, so call somebody and get to it. I’m gonna be in the bathroom sorting out my make-up. That’s the precious cargo, and I need to make sure it’s packed delicately.”
She turns around and walks towards the bathroom mumbling something about making an honest woman out of her.
I haven’t moved from my spot. I feel like I got hit by a train named Georgia. What the hell just happened? Before I can think on it too much, my phone rings. I see it’s Jen. Thinking I need to tell her to cancel the security, I answer.
“Hello?”
“I’ve got a listing agent on the phone saying we have a cash offer on a house just outside the city. Would you like to make the wire transfer and have your attorney okay the sale?”
“Tonio!” I hear Georgia call from the back of the house. “I picked a house and told them you were buying it for me as a wedding present. But you still have to get me another one because it doesn’t count if I know what it is.”