The Ex (The Boss #4) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
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The point of no return, as far as I was concerned.

With the train attached, the dress was heavy enough that I seriously worried that it would just slip right down, but Pia used enough double-sided tape that I started to be concerned about getting the dress off. She gave a final fluff to my skirt. “All you need is your jewelry.”

“Oh!” Emma handed Olivia off to my mom. “Stay right there.”

She disappeared for a moment, and when she returned, she held a large, flat box.

“This is from Dad,” she said as she brought it to me. On top was an envelope. As much as I wanted to know what was in the box, I wanted to know what Neil had to say to me on our wedding day more.

Inside the envelope was a stiff card. I slipped it out, frowning.

“Is that your wedding invitation?” Mom shifted Olivia to her shoulder.

“It is.” I flipped it over. Neil’s handwriting scrawled over the back:

My Darling Sophie,

Since Deja has seen the dress and I have not, I trusted her to help me pick this out. I do hope you like it. Perhaps it is a bit presumptuous of me, when you have no doubt spent hours agonizing over the jewelry you’ve already purchased in anticipation of this day…but who can a man presume upon if not his loving wife? I promise not to make a habit of it.

My heart skipped a little beat, seeing him refer to me that way. I read on.

I love you. I love our best days and our worst, our arguments (and what usually follows). I love you when you lecture me about feminism, and when you listen to me prattle on about cars. I love your ice-cold feet, your magnificent breasts—

I laughed and looked up at the four women staring expectantly at me, and I whispered, “It’s private.”

—and all the rest of you. I love you, Sophie Scaife. There will never be a single day that I don’t. I am honored to be your husband.

All my love,

Neil

I clasped the paper to my chest and blinked back tears. Damn. We weren’t even at the ceremony yet, and I was blubbering. He was trying to win the stupid bet before the wedding even started. That was playing dirty.

“Open the box!” Mom practically shrieked, and Emma lifted the lid as I held it.

Inside, a yellow diamond so dark it appeared almost tan, in a perfect tear-shaped cut, nestled in a gold setting. Lengths of smooth, flat gold made up the impossibly stiff-looking chain, but as I lifted the necklace from the box, it moved easily, and branches of gold held more diamonds, brilliant white, in what seemed like every possible cut. It looked like a delicate vine that bore diamonds as fruit.

“He wanted me to tell you that if you’d rather wear the jewelry you picked out, that’s fine, but ‘for god’s sake, give it to the butler to lock in the hotel safe.’”

I raised an eyebrow at her. Neil was prone to ridiculous spending where I was concerned, but only when he thought he could get away with it without being scolded.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s over four-hundred karats total weight It’s not like you can just casually lose it. He wanted you to know that it came from one of your friends in Bahrain? Since when does my dad have friends in Bahrain?”

Emir. A fresh wave of tears watered my vision. He’d found a way to be with us on our wedding day.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” my mom said, getting to her feet. She came over and reached her free hand out to stroke the chain. She pulled her fingers from the box, as if she were afraid she’d be asked to pay for touching it.

“Here.” Holli took the necklace and helped me fasten it around my throat. Emma had been right; it looked amazing with my dress. It even went well with the small round diamond studs I’d planned to wear in my ears.

I faced the mirror. The woman reflected there was way too hot to be me. Her dark hair was too glossy, too expertly teased and sculpted, falling over her shoulders in spirals like a fairy tale princess. Her make-up—subtly smoky eyes and deep berry lips—was expertly applied, her skin buffed to flawless perfection.

Okay, never mind, I could totally look that hot. But I was amazed at how calm I seemed. I scanned my reflection for any telltale sweat beading on my powdered nose or bronzer-ed cheeks. Any tremble in my shoulders or my hands. All my inner turmoil was well-disguised.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

* * * *

Shelby brought us to the catering entrance of the Terrace Room, confirming on her headset all the while that the foyer was clear and all the guests were seated inside.


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