11. Michaela
Michaela
I drag my exhausted body from the Bentley to the front of the Pompadour Hotel. After my father shattered my existence with yet another devastating blow, I cried until I had no more tears. The two hours of broken sleep did nothing more than confuse the hell out of my system.
When I woke up at six-thirty, I was disoriented.
One look around the bedroom, and I was reminded of my grim reality.
Since I didn’t have the courage to face Keira, I sat in bed, reliving yesterday over and over in my head.
Defeated, I picked up my phone and composed twenty different text messages until I settled on one.
With a heavy heart, I offered my freedom in exchange for a piece of property.
Considering his position and responsibilities, I was surprised Phoenix had room in his schedule to meet.
What’s the point of avoiding the inevitable?
When the elevator doors open on the top floor, I smooth down my dress before taking a step forward.
As I was selecting what to wear this morning, it hit me.
My only remaining possessions are hanging in the closet of Rhys Hartford’s guesthouse closet.
A sense of sheer panic choked the breath out of me at the thought, and I wanted nothing more than to dissolve into tears again. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
So, here I am striding down the same corridor as yesterday, but instead of being fueled with indignation and fury, I’m consumed by worry and fear.
I pull open the glass door and step inside Phoenix’s world.
The woman sitting behind a desk glances up at me and lifts a finger, indicating she won’t be too long.
I nod, and my heart beats a little faster.
I take a long step back to give her privacy.
Not that I’m eavesdropping, but this close, I can’t help it.
Everything about Lydia Gillanders screams poised, but her surly tone with whoever she’s talking to indicates this has been a shit morning.
Welcome to my world.
As I wait while Phoenix’s executive assistant finishes with her call, I remind myself why I’m doing this.
I promise I won’t let you down, Mom.
As soon as the woman hangs up, I step up to her desk.
I’m going to guess Lydia is thirty-something.
Her salon-blonde hair is sleeked back in an office appropriate style.
The turquoise sleeveless, form-fitting dress with a flattering neckline she’s wearing accentuates her well-toned and well-tanned arms, her bright red lips and her light brown eyes.
There’s no denying it, she’s attractive.
Too attractive. The rock on her ring finger squashes the snarky and catty thought that pops to mind—King Kong Tycoon is probably not banging his pretty executive assistant.
Good.
Lydia glances up at me. “I’m sorry for making you wait. It’s been a crazy morning so far,” she says, pressing a button on the phone console.
“Not a problem.” I smile.
Her eyes meet mine and she offers a tight one. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Michaela Knight?—”
“You’re the fiancée.” A warm smile stretches Lydia’s lips.
“I am.” I pray my voice doesn’t betray my nervousness.
She leans against her desk.
I mimic her.
“No wonder the boss has been keeping you a secret. You’re gorgeous. Good thing the boss saw you first. He would’ve had to fight the three other Konig heirs for your attention.”
I blush from ear to ear. “Thank you.”
“He’s expecting you.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
I make my way to the wooden door I burst through yesterday on shaky legs.
What a difference a day makes.
I ready myself to knock, but the door swings open.
And there he is… my future husband.