Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
While Adam Hallman is confined to his wheelchair, it seems Chloe Turner sure landed on her feet.
Filthy Laundry Online has it on good authority that the children of Michael Steele never requires spouses to sign a pre-nuptial agreement.
This is a blog with no other entries. It was just created for this purpose.
Vertigo briefly attacks my senses as I calculate the ramifications here. I’ll have to explain this to my parents. My friends. This means things are going to be even messier than I expected they’d be.
Derek wanted Adam to take the blame, but when people find out, they’re going to be looking at me like I’m a gold-digging cheater. A monster who got a better offer than what I was looking at with my paraplegic fiancé.
Adam’s probably at the hospital with his family, saying goodbye to their gran while they deal with the emotional whirlwind of their uncle’s death.
As I sit on the bed, my phone chimes again.
Someone tagged me several times on Instagram.
The same gossip blog’s Instagram. And it’s a carbon copy of the other article, only this one has me tagged and there are a lot of comments.
“Chloe Turner is a disgusting human being. She’s dumped her fiancé a respected journalist who lost use of his legs in an accident for Derek Steele. Gold digger or what?” - Anonymous
Underneath it, a commenter says, “Who wouldn’t? Look at that hottie. And he’s rich?”
Nested under that is a comment that says, “Yeah, but everyone knows the Steeles are practically mafioso.”
I exit the app and write back to Alannah.
FML. Check Instagram. It’s worse.
She sends me a broken heart emoji and then messages again.
I’m here if you need me. Love you.
The door clicks and opens. Derek is back. He doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t look happy.
“You’d better get a load of this,” I tell him and open up the link Alannah sent and hand him my phone.
He takes it, looks at the screen, and massages his forehead with his fingers.
His eyes close for a second and when they open, he says, “Might as well pack up.”
I frown.
“You don’t want to go on a trip with me, do you?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Then let’s go. We’ll swing by your parents’ place and then we’ll go home.”
“My parents?”
“They need to meet me. You need to tell them. This could go viral. Someone went to the trouble to put it up, they’ll undoubtedly want to spread it far and wide. Let’s go.” He waves toward the door.
I stare at the dining cart full of food and wine. At the flower petals all over the rug.
“Carson?” Derek says into his phone, “I need PR to take control of the gossip that’s come from my and Chloe’s wedding today. Yes, on the…” He looks at my phone, “Filthy Laundry site. Chloe Turner hashtag.”
God, I’m a hashtag.
“Right. I’ll keep my phone nearby.” He ends the call.
And I get up and start gathering our things.
A few minutes later, I hear him on the phone again.
“Just Jeannie blog? Yeah, not a shocker.” His voice drifts away as he steps into the hallway.
I wait for him to come back in.
“Just Jeannie?” I whisper.
“Jeannie Gilligan. Your ex’s ex.”
I frown. Jeannie?
“The one whose sister got murdered by Hallman’s uncle. So, clearly she’s feeling unhinged after his death if she hasn’t got the good sense to realize she’s fucking with my family in an effort to lash out at you.”
I blink a couple times as this permeates. The little girl who was killed by Adam’s uncle was Jeannie’s sister? What?
I finish packing up our things, mind scattered, hands shaky. It’s all I can do to make sure I remember everything.
I tie my hair up into a ponytail as Derek speaks to the driver that drove us earlier. I hear him give out gate and garage door codes to the driver, who will be bringing everything back to the house, putting it into the garage until we get back later.
Someone brought his SUV here and he got the hotel to put our meals into to-go containers and pack up our wine for later, too. Derek hands the food to Neil, telling him to enjoy the meals with his girlfriend tonight, that we’ll get food on the road. He opens the SUV passenger door, takes my hand, and leads me in.
“What are we even doing?” I mumble after we’ve been on the road for a while.
Derek hasn’t said a word. In fact, he seems like he’s a million miles away. He hasn’t tried to hold my hand or have any sort of conversation.
“I’m taking care of it,” he says.
My phone has been chiming nonstop with messages from Coraline, Maddie, Jeffy, which I haven’t answered or read.
Derek had a phone call come in that had him pull over at a rest stop and walk around the parking lot while I went inside, used the restroom, and purchased coffees for us.